Making Cookies, And Trusting, One Step At A Time

These days are glorious. 

The color, the sun; all magnificent displays of God's handiwork.

I still long to feel. . .

I try. 

I sit on a rock overlooking the meadows.

I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun. 

But my heart still aches and longs for what it can not have.

I make cookies for the first time.

The memories of Elijah come like a flood.
The last day he was here; the day we had no idea would be his last.
He had come home all excited from a shooting match.
I had made cookies.
He stood in the kitchen and ate one after another. . .dipping them in milk.
Drinking a half gallon of milk as we talked.
I tell him to take a plate of cookies and sit down.
He was spilling crumbs everywhere.
I turn around and he had taken the WHOLE plate of cookies with him.
I smile at the memory.
I place dough onto the cookie sheet.

So much of my life with Elijah centered around food.
I cooked for him.
Drank coffee with him.
Planned meals around him. . .he was the busy one.
Our dinner conversations now stilled.
We don't seem to have the enthusiasm without him here.

Everything is just wrong. . .
But is it?
God sits on the throne.
He is the glorious One.

Psalm 18:32
It is God who arms me with strength, And makes my way perfect. 

And this is His will.
And all I need is Jesus.
And so to that Rock I am clinging.
As the world turns chaotic around me.
As I feel like I can't breathe some days. . .
As I miss with all my heart the child I birthed. . .
As we figure how to step into sweet peace with a fractured family.
I look to Jesus.
He is all I need.