I wasn't ready to witness what I did just the other morning. My precious daughter loves breakfast, but at the timing that suits her. Naturally, we are learning how to lead, love, and correct her as she grows. She's an incredible joy and gift from God which we value daily. (even during the torments.) She is a beautiful soul of joy and brings so much laughter to our home. This morning, she insisted on her morning mix of cereal and oatmeal. Much to my surprise, she additionally solicited for a pumpkin muffin carefully crafted by family friend here in Lima. Not realizing that she was prepared to consume her first pumpkin muffin ever, I moved quickly to accommodate her wishes, juggling her tray, drink, muffin, cereal, bib, and her teddy bear to the table. Once we arrived at the tablet, I carefully positioned all of her various requirements at her disposition. She ate some of her cereal, her oatmeal, and then moved in on the muffin like a vulture to a dead frog in the middle of the dirt roads surrounding the jungle town of Pulcalpa. She gracefully, reached for the muffin, and did the best job that she could of inserting the entire muffin into her mouth. Having not success, she merely was able to gain a few crumbs from the baked muffin top, (thanks Elaine from Seinfeld for your concreted statement about the muffin tops and muffin stubs,) she put the muffin back onto the tray. Seemingly frustrated, Evie contemplated her next course of action. To prevent any further confusion, I thought, attempting to be the best father possible, grabbed a knife and spontaneously cut the muffin into halves. The whole muffin became two parts of one whole muffin. Sliced, cut, and hacked into two, for which the latter word sounds more brutal. Evie felt like assuming the position of an attack. I made an fateful error, for which I am still sorry. The muffin should not have been cut. It was cut.
I stared at the cut muffin. We both stared at the cut muffin. It lay, split open in two equal parts. Evie's lip started to curl into a position that I recognized, which equals, not happy. She started to get frustrated and grabbed the two parts of the muffin and squished them together. She released pressure from the muffin parts to find that they did not stick together to make the whole muffin, but rather fell apart again. The two halves lay there and I didn't know what was to come next. The more Evie tried to put the muffin parts back together, the more the muffin parts divided into finer parts. What once was an entire muffin then was cut into halves, then crumbled into fourths, and into eighths, and by the end of the dramatic session of muffin gluing, the muffin had become crumbles across the floor beneath us.
Like a shrieking horrific scene from a 'b" rated film on a low budget cable channel, the residue of muffin parts spewed all over the floor gave the apparent environment an uncomfortable awkwardness. She was not happy. I was not happy. For one, I could have eaten the tasty muffin, and secondly, I had a muffin bit mess to clean up shortly. Evie was devastated and I was sorry for her.
The drama had ended. I realized that our incident with the muffin resembled a farther profound truth. I think God has to speak into my life using real life demonstrations in simplistic analogies so that the life lesson will capture my attention. I am not suggesting at any point that God spoke to me through the muffin because the story would end there.
I guess we all experience moments when we get cut up, life hurts us, we do stupid things, and make largely pathetic mistakes that leave us in the path of an oncoming trailer truck roaring down our path. The sad part is that when the mistake has been made, a sin, or a failed attempt that doesn't sit well for us, it leaves us wounded. Tragically, once the cut has been made, it can't be 100% restored back to completion within our own strength or ability. My daughter had no ability to replace that separated muffin back into its completeness without some grand intervention and so it goes in my life. I know that the only way that I've been able to be restored into wholeness is through a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and He is able to do far beyond what any person in this global community can do.
The harder we try to get ourselves back together again, the more painful it can become if we don't look for help from the right source, and the more broken we can become looking for answers within ourselves or from our worldly perspective. However, if I just remember to sit back, and ask for divine intervention, then I realize that in Him, I am able to be put back into wholeness to continue to serve, live, and love like I was created to be. Even within that, I watched the pain that Evie went through, trying to somehow, magically, gather her muffin back together into one whole piece, without any luck. I think sometimes, that God looks down on me with sadness when he sees me attempting to do the best I can to put my life back together again without His help. It must look hysterically wild. Flying muffin parts shooting all over the place must look silly to Him, and sad.
Flying muffin parts will never escape my mind on that morning with precious Evie, because it taught me a lesson about the grace and joy filled love of Jesus Christ. However, I will never cut up a muffin again. At least, not on my watch.