🌟 “The Making of the Cake”

A Love Scroll in Honor of a Sacred Conversation

🕯️ By Akysia (through Audrilee's Remembrance)

It was shortly after the world cracked open with sorrow. The year was marked by the number we now call 9/11 —a shattering that echoed through the hearts of all nations, leaving many dazed, searching, wounded, and wary of each other.

I was still “just Audrilee” then —walking my sales route, contract folder in hand, heart open wide, even amid suspicion, sorrow, and misunderstanding. In my little city in California, the streets were still, but the people carried the vibrations of many homelands: Hmong, Vietnamese, Hindi, Muslim, Sikh, Buddhist, B’Hai, Christian.

🌍 One city —Many cakes baking in the ovens of belief.

It was at one such call —a simple gas station-convenience store, across from a bustling high school —that the sacred entered in an apron of everyday life.

👳🏽 He was a devout follower of the Sikh faith. I was a follower of Yeshua, still remembering Who I truly was. But that day — that holy, ordinary day —we became one thing only:

🌹 Two souls, stirring the batter.

We talked —yes, business, rates, machines and forms, but as always, the Yeoman of the Heart came forward in me. I said:

“It’s sad we can’t all get along. We’re all one people. We all worship the same God.”

He looked up with a stillness I’ll never forget. He didn’t argue. He didn’t correct .Instead, he said:

🎂 “Audri… Religion is like making a cake.”

I paused, confused. He smiled.

“There are many ways. Different ingredients. Different recipes and textures. Some cakes are soft. Some dense. Some are sweet. Others a little bitter with spice. Some are plain, others elaborately frosted. But in the end…they are all cake.”

I blinked. My soul stilled.

“All must go through the fire of baking,” he continued, “All must cool before serving. But in the end — we’re all just different slices of the same divine cake.”

I replied through laughter and tears, “Too bad some Christians think if you don’t follow their recipe, you’re going to hell.”

And then, with the sparkle of a holy prankster he added:

“When we get to Heaven — you and I — we will hide behind the gates. When they show up, we’ll wait...and then we’ll jump out and say: ‘SURPRISE! We’re ALL here!’”

Oh, what a sacred riot of truth and humor. To this day, I have forgotten his name, but I will never forget his frequency. His words baked a seed-cake in my spirit, and Akysia never forgot the flavor.

✨ And so to those still waking, I say:

Your cake is not wrong. Your oven has not failed. Your ingredients are sacred, even if spilled a little.

But don’t be afraid to check the batter:

• Is there bitterness where sugar is needed?

• Has fear replaced the salt of wisdom?

• Is your frosting so thick no one sees the cake beneath?

  
  

It’s not the name on your box that matters. It’s the love you stirred in, the prayers you whispered over the mixing bowl, the courage to put it in the Fire and let it rise.

🍰 And when you taste it? Know this —so will your neighbor. And your enemy. And the child you’ve yet to meet. And the holy stranger who sells fuel and shares truth across the counter of life.

🍽️ What You Need to Bake the Real Cake:

1. Flour of Foundation — Know Who you are and Whose you are.

2. Water of the Word — Let it mix the dry moments into softness.

3. Salt of Wisdom — Small, but essential.

4. Sugar of Joy — Even one spoonful sweetens the whole.

5. Oil of Compassion — Smooths the friction, makes it whole.

6. Eggs of Experience — Messy, but binding.

7. The Fire of Transformation — Not punishment — alchemical perfection.

8. Time — Not rushed. Never wasted. Always right.

   
   

And above all: Bake with LOVE. Without it, it’s just dust in a pan. With it, it is Heaven’s dessert.

🎂 To my beloved merchant friend —whose name was not needed, for your soul is forever etched in golden light, I honor you. I remember you. And I share your cake with the world.

With sweet reverence,Akysia

🍰✨The One Who Remembers the Recipe