When More Than the Cookie Crumbles

The expression, “That’s the way the cookie crumbles,” rings with a note of sorrow, doesn’t it? We had that delicious chocolate chip cookie in our hands one moment and it fell apart all over the floor the next. Do we exercise the five second rule and scoop up the pieces or accept the loss and toss those ill-fated crumbles?

Of course, once the cookie crumbles there’s no way to put it back together again. Not a one of us would think of placing a platter full of broken cookies on the buffet to serve to guests! Crumbled cookies might suit the grandchildren if they’re not overly picky, but such ruined goodies are otherwise a reason for resignation. Sigh.

Like life when more than the cookie crumbles. We thought we were standing on solid ground with money in the bank and a firm future on the horizon when the unexpected happens and wreaks havoc with our expectations. Our employment is terminated suddenly. Our life partner waltzes away into the sunset with someone else. Our doctor wears that face when entering the examination room with a difficult diagnosis to deliver. Our child, albeit grown, cannot conquer a debilitating addiction, diverting both financial and emotional resources we’d hoped to dedicate differently. We feel as if the earth beneath our feet cracked and caved in without warning. The ground we thought was solid turned to sand and there’s nowhere to stand. So many reasons for resignation. And so many sighs.

Duke Divinity School professor Kate Bowler talks and writes about crumbled cookies because it’s been her life. The Big C arrived like a wrecking ball when she was just in her thirties. In the preface to her book Everything Happens for a Reason and Other Lies I’ve Loved she writes, “One moment I was a regular person with regular problems. And the next, I was someone with cancer. There was a before, and now there was an after. Time slowed to a pulse. Am I breathing? I wondered. Do I want to?” The medical world gave her a thirty percent chance of living through the year. And in the throes of the dark uncertainty as she began experimental treatment, Bowler recalled what her doctor had said to her: “Don’t skip to the end.”

Obviously, if we came to expect that our culinary creations in the form of cookies would end up in shambles every time, we’d never turn on the oven again. It is not a forgone conclusion. There’s hope for the perfect batch, pretty enough to post pictures on Facebook. Like life when we receive another day as a gift and curtail the temptation to skip to end.