Yesterday I managed to mix a huge batch of bread dough which Crystal and I turned into rolls, bread, and cinnamon rolls. Our chickens are laying fewer and fewer eggs, now just six a day, what with the short days and long nights, and I have to come up with different breakfasts than eggs.
Cinnamon rolls sounded good for the family, I thought. It had been a while since we made those.
I had no idea how I would use pictures of the proceedings in a blog post, but I was sure I would.
There was just something so tantalizing about showing the gooey honey cinnamon rolls as I was cutting the slices. Despite what is going on in my life right now, it is satisfying to still be able to keep meals on the table for my family, and to even sometimes help with the baking of huge batches of rolls to keep my work guys (and an extra one or two) fed with homemade lunches each day.
A few days ago, in between two medical appointments that the cancer center had insisted on setting up for me (one of which was obviously unnecessary we discovered) Jonathan was heading inside to talk to the financial aid department while I tried to make my whoozy way out to the van parked at quite a distance because of the trailer on behind.
Jonathan had pulled a trailer because he always has materials to purchase at Menards or Lowes for the mission, for the reservation jobs, or us personally. This time he would run across a washer/dryer combo set that was needed for the Rosebud parsonage and we'd add that on top of the lumber and other material he had already purchased.
But back to my walk out to the van. Despite how I was not feeling very good, I couldn't help noticing first the cool, fresh autumn air, and then the autumn foliage. I found myself reveling in the beauties of autumn leaves--right there along the drive into the hospital.
Later, as we pulled into McDonalds to get Jonathan his coupon special
and "comfort food," an iced coffee, I noticed that roses were still
blooming there! I had to jump out to take a good picture.
And there on the stones was a single rose petal, still beautiful,
like a single beautiful day in the midst of my cancer journey.
Just one day, one beautiful day when I am still able to get about on my own, still able to enjoy beauty, still able to be thankful instead of moaning to my heavenly Father with too much pain to do anything but endure.
And I thought what a grace it was to just take one day at a time. For today, to not take on the worry of what tomorrow holds--of pain or overwhelm or burdens too heavy to carry without His help.
I think of the beauty of just doing one little job at a time--even if baking bread is the only extra job I get done in a day besides taking care of myself and seeing that my family's meals are made.
I am glad I have the energy to carry the rolls to the oven and scrub the mixing bowl right away under the wonderful faucet Jonathan installed in our kitchen sink. And the words to an old hymn that my sister Dorcas used to sing comes to me.
"Lord for tomorrow and its needs
I do not pray;
Keep me, my God, from stain of sin
Just for today.
Help me to labor earnestly,
And duly pray;
Let me be kind in word and deed,
Father today.
Let me be slow to do my will,
Prompt to obey;
Help me to sacrifice myself,
Father, today.
Let me no wrong or idle word
Unthinking say;
Set Thou a seal up on my lips
Through all today.
Let me in season, Lord, be grave,
In season gay;
Let me be faithful to Thy grace,
Father, today.
Lord, for tomorrow and its needs
I do not pray;
Still keep me, guide me, love me, Lord,
Through each today.
Amen."
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