Sprinkling Powdered Sugar: "The Covering of Grace"
Sometimes the most profound truths are found in the simplest moments. In a humble kitchen ritual and the memory of resilient mothers after disaster, we discover how God's grace transforms our brokenness into beauty not by erasing our scars, but by covering them with His tender mercy.
Wandering Armenian
8/9/20252 min read
Sprinkling Powdered Sugar: "The Covering of Grace"
Scripture: "As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us." — Psalm 103:12 (NIV)
The metal sieve trembles slightly in my hands as I lift it above the warm chocolate cake. Through its tiny holes, powdered sugar cascades like snow, each particle catching the kitchen light before settling into the cake's imperfect surface covering the small cracks where the batter had pulled apart, softening the rough edges where I had turned it out too quickly.
This simple act always takes me back to that sweltering night in coastal Bangladesh, three years after Cyclone Mora had swept through the region. I was volunteering at a temporary shelter, helping distribute supplies when evening prayers began. The corrugated metal walls still bore dents from flying debris, and the concrete floor remained stained with flood marks that no amount of scrubbing could erase.
That is when I heard it a soft humming that grew into gentle singing. Following the sound, I found Rashida, a mother of four who had lost her home and her husband's fishing boat in the storm. Her weathered hands moved rhythmically as she braided her youngest daughter's hair, weaving yellow marigolds between the strands. Around her, other mothers joined in the familiar Bengali hymn, their voices carrying notes of both sorrow and inexplicable hope.
"Why do you sing?" I asked Rashida later, my broken Bengali mixing with her limited English as we shared sweet tea from chipped cups.
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, "Brother, look," she said, pointing to the marigolds now adorning several children's heads. "Flowers cannot hide the broken places or gaps in hair they make it look beautiful anyway."
Now, watching the sugar settle into every crevice of my imperfect cake, I understand what she meant. God's grace does not erase our failures or pretend our wounds never existed. Instead, like powdered sugar on a cracked cake or marigolds in storm-tangled hair, His forgiveness gently covers what is broken, transforming our scars into something unexpectedly beautiful.
The sugar does not lie about the cake's flaws I can still see where it cracked and pulled. But covered in that soft white blessing, the whole creation becomes something worth sharing with family and friends, something that brings joy instead of embarrassment.
As I set down the sieve, I whispered a prayer of gratitude. For Rashida's song that still echoes in my heart. For grace that falls as gently as sugar through a sieve. For a God who removes our transgressions as far as the east is from the west yet honours our stories by weaving them into His greater tapestry of redemption.
Just every crack tells a story, so does every covering reveal His love.
Your grace like sugar gently falls,
It covers wounds, it soothes my walls.
From east to west, you cleanse each stain,
And heal my soul with love again.
