Mummy, Is It Ready Yet?

On Faith, Baking, and the Art of Waiting

Image generated with AI. (original cake photo, mine)

Baking for my kids is one of my favourite ways to show love. I will be the first to admit I am not the world’s best baker, but my children have wonderfully low standards. As long as it is sweet and serves as a snack or pudding, they are happy. I usually keep things simple, hunting for easy recipes online and try to involve them in the process. Even though the flour-covered counters and the inevitable overstimulation are a high price to pay, seeing their joy makes the extra cleaning worth it.

Last week, my daughter became obsessed with the idea of a lemon cake. She had seen one somewhere and asked for it every single day. I usually stick to a basic lemon and blueberry loaf, but she was specific. She wanted a cake with icing.

Every day she would come home from school with the same question: “Mummy, did you bake the lemon cake today?” Her face dropped every time I explained I had been too busy with work, or had not made it to the store, or simply forgot. I mean, how dare I prioritise my full-time job over her cravings, right?

By the weekend, the pressure was on. I was trying to cook actual meals, so the cake felt like a distant priority until my daughter finally broke down in tears. “Mummy, you have been promising for ages, and you still have not made it!”

My heart broke. I felt that familiar pang of mom guilt. I had made a promise, and even with legitimate excuses, her disappointment hit me hard. I made a mental note to grab the supplies after church the next day. In fact, that cake stayed on my mind through the entire service. The moment the service was over, we hit the shops. We had to try two different stores to find everything we needed, but I was determined to keep my word.

We got home and went straight to work. My daughter and I baked the cake together, and she was fully immersed in the process. As the tin slid into the oven, my daughter’s excitement was through the roof. But five minutes in, she was already trying to pull it out. I had to explain that it was not time yet. She was so frustrated. How could something be so close, yet so far?

It made me think about our often limited perspective. We think God is wasting time, delaying our progress, or depriving us of a blessing. But perhaps that thing simply is not ready yet, or maybe we are not ready yet. If we interfere before the timer goes off, we ruin the result. If I had let her open that oven too early, the cake would have collapsed.

My husband and I kept telling her to trust us. She did not understand the wait, especially when the cake looked done from the outside. Based on experience, I knew the centre was still liquid, but she was basing her impatience solely on what she could see.

We do the same with God. We get frustrated by our own ignorance. We do not have His wisdom or discernment, so we complain. So today, instead of grumbling, I want to share some other ideas of what we can do, following the rhythm my daughter eventually adopted:

1. Ask with boldness: After her initial irritation, she started asking for answers instead of demanding results. “Mummy, is it ready now?” “Can I check?” Every time, I gave her an honest update. God invites us to do the same. We do not have to guess or suffer in silence; we can bring our questions directly to Him.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” — Philippians 4:6

2. Trust the Master Baker: She had to trust me. I was the one who had the recipe, I bought the ingredients, and I knew the oven’s temperament. She had to believe my intention was always to provide that cake. When we feel impatient, we have to remember who is holding the recipe. He is the author of our story, and He knows the timing better than we do.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.” — Proverbs 3:5-6

3. Release the outcome: Eventually, my daughter stopped hovering. She pulled out her craft box and got so engrossed in making a paper bag that she did not even notice when the timer finally dinged. She let go of the control she never really had. When we release our grip on when and how things happen, we find a peace that allows us to actually enjoy the present moment.

“Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteous reward shine like the dawn.” — Psalm 37:5-6

4. Rest in His love: When I shared the photos of the cake on Instagram, a friend messaged me. She said, “You could have easily bought a lemon cake, but you made the effort because your child asked. How much more does God care for us?” That hit me. To me, it was just a cake. But to her, it was a core memory: Mummy keeps her promises, and I am worth the effort. Our Heavenly Father feels the same. He thinks you are worth the sacrifice. He did not take the easy way out; He sent His Son because He loves us deeply. It is not because we earned it; He made that decision before we even knew we were hungry.

“If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” — Matthew 7:11

You are so loved. I pray that today, you remember that when God looks at you, He is not frustrated by your impatience. He sees a child He loves deeply, and He knows the wait will be worth it. Don’t forget, you have a father who can and will ALWAYS keep his promises.

Did any of this resonate with you? Have you had waiting stories? Do share. I will be reading.

Much love,

Tito.