There is the table...and the cake. Wait, there is no more cake. Just one last piece. You sit there, on the table waiting. Waiting to be picked, to be desired, to be wanted and enjoyed.
You started out as a piece of a whole cake. You were still an individual piece but part of something. Then one day the Master Chef comes in and begins to divide and seperate. At first you ask, "What are you doing? I like where I am and my role here." The Master Chef replies, " Yes, but the time has come to go on your own." "Ok," you decide and you prepare yourself for the selection to begin. You know you have much to offer and cannot wait to nourish and delight the one who selects you.
One by one you watch each piece leave the table. Expectantly you await your turn..but sadly that time does not come. It has been months and there you still sit. The Last Piece.
"Master Chef!" you call out. "What is going on? I thought I was supposed to go!" But no reply comes. It seems He has left you to. It seems as though He was wrong.
That poor piece of cake. It must be awful. Not to be wanted, desired. Just to sit there and wait. Alone. The Last Piece.
But maybe things aren't as they seem. Maybe there is a reason you are The Last Piece...
Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you here a voice. "Help!" "We are starving!" "Is there any food here??"
"Please, come in." the Master Chef replies. He leads them to the table where you sit. Beaming with pride, the Master Chef says..
"I have saved the very Best for Last..the Last Piece!"