Every culture or group have traditions that grow over time; some of them good, some of them eventually a bit pointless. One tradition that we have in the Christian community house I live in, revolves around peoples’ birthdays. Everyone gets a cake (or pavlova, or cheesecake, or fruit salad, depending on their tastes) and we all sit around, eating and taking it in turns to tell that person what we appreciate about them. We also pray and ask God if there’s anything He wants to say to them. (Disclaimer: it is my birthday soon, so this might be why I’ve been thinking about it!)
I’ve never made a cake, but this is what I think you’d need:
A good kitchen with a decent table. An oven. The ingredients. Time and no distractions. A mixing bowl and the various bits of pans and stuff to make it. (I’ve really never made one).
If you were, for example, in a warehouse, with the oven on one side of the warehouse, the table on the other side, half the ingredients missing, no mixing bowl, forklifts driving by you, and only three minutes to make it in, then the forklift drives over the pan and squashes it, you would, I think, find it very difficult to make a cake.
Recently, a few people who used to visit the Northampton Jesus Centre died. It caused me to reflect. Did we do all that we could have done? Did they experience the love of God through what we did for them? It reminds us how fragile some of our visitors’ lives are and how important it is that they are made to feel welcome and at home.