When I was in high school, I worked at the clothing store Express. As it was considered the new, trendier, sister store of The Limited, I felt like I had scored big-time, and I kept a running list of all the things I was going to buy with my employee discount. Anyone who has worked in retail clothing will tell you that it all sounds like fun and games until you find yourself elbow-deep in boxes of clothes, all waiting to be ironed and properly displayed, and you have to deal with grumpy customers while you attempt to figure out how to work the register. Probably the most essential tool for the clothing retail employee is the folding board. It looks like a clipboard without the clip part and is used to get those shirts folded like little soldiers all in a row on the display shelves. I loved this tool! It spoke right to my neat-freak heart and I got such a sense of satisfaction out of using it to get the perfect fold. And then the inevitable would happen. Some customer would have the nerve to come along and dig through those perfectly folded shirts to find the size they needed, leaving my precise little soldiers all rumpled and wrinkled and a shell of their former, perfectly folded selves.
I don’t know about you, but throughout my life, when I heard the word unfolded, it always conjured up images of a soft and flowing process. You hear someone reference the “unfolding” of a story and you envision something almost magical, holding your breath as each new chapter reveals itself. I’m always particularly reminded of this in the spring as we watch and wait for the moment when new life emerges on the branches, a bud unfolding to reveal the blossom inside. But think about what must happen for that bud to appear. There’s pushing and straining in order for it to finally break through the surface of the branch. I think the reality is that most of the time, the process of unfolding something isn’t quite so magical. It’s rumpled, it’s wrinkled, it’s messy, and it’s anything but perfect.
Perhaps, it’s only in the painful situations that strip us bare and take us to a place where we can actually see ourselves in all of our imperfect glory.
For most of my life, I tried very hard to stay folded up. I wanted my life to look like those crisp shirts, stacked up all neat and tidy on the display shelves. But God had other plans for me. My life became unfolded.
I thought that if I did everything just perfectly and made all the right choices, I could sail through life with barely a wrinkle. It wasn’t that I thought I would never face challenges, but I assumed that I could avoid most of them through sheer determination.
After I married the love of my life, we discovered that having children would be a very difficult thing for us. And with that discovery, I realized just how much in life is truly outside my control. You might think that this is the time when everything became unfolded. You would be wrong. Because, you see, this was really only the moment when my folded-up life was removed from the shelf. The unfolding began when, despite my pain and grief, I welcomed the unique opportunity that the Lord was giving me: the opportunity to peel back the layers of my heart. And as each layer was peeled away, I was startled by what was revealed. I discovered that I was a rumpled, wrinkled, imperfect mess.
What I wanted was simply to be comforted in my hurt. I just wanted God to wrap me up in His peace. And He did give me that. In the moments when I felt like I couldn’t breathe because the pain was just too great, I understood what Psalm 147:3 really means when it says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” But I also realized that, sometimes, in our most painful moments He is calling us to something else as well. He’s calling us to take a closer look at the sin in our lives. And perhaps, it’s only the painful situations that strip us bare and take us to a place where we can actually see ourselves in all of our imperfect glory.
Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:7–11)
When we are willing to look at hardship—at our life unfolding—as discipline, it changes everything. Or at least, it should. We should see it as an opportunity. It’s an opportunity to see ourselves in a new way, to see ourselves the way God sees us. By realizing my hardships are actually a way that I can draw closer to my heavenly Father and be changed to reflect His heart, I can see them in a different light.
Are you ready to start seeing the beauty in living a life unfolded? Because where you look down and see a wrinkly, rumpled, imperfect mess, God looks down and sees that you are at exactly the right place for an amazing journey to begin. A journey that will be painful. A journey that will leave you untidy, undone, and unfolded. But I can guarantee that you will not be left unchanged.
We think everything looks cuter in a mason jar, and these bird’s nest cupcakes are no exception.
INGREDIENTS
_ (1 8.25-oz.) package white cake mix
_ 3 egg whites
_ 1¼ cups buttermilk
_ 2 Tbs. vegetable oil
_ 1 tsp. lemon extract
_ 1 (16-oz.) jar apricot-pineapple preserves
_ ½ cup lemon curd
_ 1 (16-oz.) container cream cheese frosting
_ 1 (6-oz.) package flaked coconut
_ Hershey candy-coated eggs, blue
_ ½ pint mason jars
Preheat oven to 350° F.
Beat first 5 ingredients at low speed with an electric mixer 30 seconds or just until moistened; beat at medium speed 2 minutes. Pour batter into cupcake liners in muffin pans. Will make approximately 24 cupcakes.
Bake for 16–18 minutes. Cupcakes are done when center springs back. Do not overbake.
Allow to cool on wire rack.
While cupcakes are cooling, spread coconut in even layer on cookie sheet or baking pan and toast at 350° F for about 10 minutes until light brown. Stir occasionally while toasting. Allow to cool.
Place one cupcake upside down in each mason jar. Top with a tablespoon of lemon curd and spread to cover cupcake. Pipe frosting to cover lemon curd. Top with tablespoon of toasted coconut.
Add another cupcake right-side up. Top with a tablespoon of preserves and spread to cover. Pipe frosting on top to cover completely and form a slight mound. Press in toasted coconut to make “nest” using thumb to gently make an indentation. Place three candy eggs in middle.
Repeat for each jar. Will make approximately 8 servings.
