Cupcake Atm

Cupcake Atm

On the back side of a cupcake store in my town, I saw a bright-pink “ATM” that claimed to dispense its frosted wares the way a regular one spits out cash. Truthfully, I was afraid to test the machine to see if it worked; it looked too much like an invitation to be “punked.” Besides, those cupcakes are diet killers.

I did a little web research when I got home, though—just to satisfy my curiosity. Turns out, the cupcake ATM is real. You touch the screen, select your cupcake, swipe your credit card, and wait for the magic door to open, revealing the delectable and perfectly boxed evidence of your transgression.

So promising, that bright-pink machine. So tantalizing with its lure of instant, automated gratification. And so much like this world we live in. How many messages do we receive each day that insist the next delight is ours for the taking? That life is just one sweet cupcake after another if we swipe the right card and wait a mere second or two? That if we pray the right prayer, God will answer as we wish him to, and when? Or that if we are faithful church attenders or we tithe or support missions or volunteer in the nursery, God will be so pleased he will rain blessings down on our heads in return? If we’re honest, we may have been duped at times into thinking, That’s the real gospel. But it’s not.

We follow Jesus Christ, the living stone who was rejected by men. Goodness didn’t ensure ease for him, and it won’t for us, either. He was ridiculed, mocked, persecuted, and murdered. He came to die, and he bade his disciples to take up their own crosses and follow him. His call to us is the same.

Don’t fall for the pink facade that promises ease and satisfaction for a song—or a cupcake for $$425. We can expect hardship; we can expect to suffer if we follow our Savior for long. Because he did. But we can also expect to be sanctified, glorified, and eternally satisfied in him. Just not here. ’Cause this world ain’t no cupcake ATM, no matter what it promises. And it was never meant to be.

Suffer hardship with me, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

2 Timothy 2:3, NASB