For probably the last six years, I’ve had this little phrase in my head. Call it a mantra, if you will.
“Trust God, eat cake.”
It’s probably not very meaningful for most people. It’s profound to me, though, and for very simple reasons. My natural inclination is control over trust and there was a time in my life when I didn’t eat much cake.
(For the record, the no cake season was not a very fun time in my life. I’ll write more about that later.)
I think especially as women, it’s easy to get so caught up in the day-to-day grind, the unending demands of jobs, families and commitments. We see what’s expected of us and then we add our own personal expectations (perfectionism, being everyone’s everything) only to suck the joy right out of what’s in front of us. Surely that’s not just me?
So, this is the commitment I’ve made to myself. When things seem crazy, when moving and surgery and vacation all fall in the same two weeks and I just want to do is clench my fists tighter: I will trust God, I will eat cake. Especially if it’s caramel or strawberry.