Lessons in Cookie Decorating

'Tis the season for holiday cheer and one of my most dreaded tasks: decorating Sugar cookies with the kiddos. My mother did this with us when we were little, so it's a family holiday tradition, yadda-yadda-ya. But here's the thing: I really, really hate doing it. I dread this every year. The mess, the sneezed on cookies, the frosting smashed in shirts/hair/noses, the wasted blobs of frosting, the lack of appreciation for anything artistic, neat or orderly. I'm not proud of this...I wish it was different. But, every year, I grit my teeth, paste on a fake smile and pretend to love cookie baking time. I love my children so much, I tell myself, that I will suffer in silence for them.



There's a "but" coming...ready for it?


But, I never seem to manage to fake it that well. Mommy is so tense, nervous and short-tempered that the activity my children are thrilled with turns to misery quickly. Why? The cookie cutters overlap previously cut shapes and chop off a reindeer's head? The frosting is just a disgusting blob of blue, purple and orange and do you KNOW how much it cost to buy/make all of that?

'Tis the season for holiday cheer and one of my most dreaded tasks: Decorating Sugar cookies with the kiddos. My mother did this with us when we were little, so it's a family holiday tradition, yadda-yadda-ya. But here's the thing: I really, really hate doing it. I dread this every year. The mess, the sneezed on cookies, the frosting smashed in shirts/hair/noses, the wasted blobs of frosting, the lack of appreciation for anything artistic, neat or orderly. I'm not proud of this...I wish it was different. But, every year, I grit my teeth, paste on a fake smile and pretend to love cookie baking time. I love my children so much, I tell myself, that I will suffer in silence for them.

This year, I snapped at Monster Boy over the mess he was happily making on top of a cookie. Why? Did it matter that he used half a tube of red icing on one cookie? Probably not. If I was that worried about money, I would have made the frosting myself rather than buy the tubes. He was reluctant to pick up the icing tubes after Mommy's outburst. I apologized and encouraged him to resume. He carefully picked up the tubes of icing and resumed work. Only, this time he asked me if what he was doing was OK....every step of the way. There was a whole heap of lessons in this moment. 1. My temper made him uncertain of whether or not he was walking on solid ground. 2. My desire for control had killed his joy for the activity. 3. My sense of "right" took away his appetite to explore, create and imagine.

As I sit here and write this, I have no inspiring or uplifting thoughts to temper these heart breaking lessons. My only hope is that I will remember them. I'm thankful for the forgiveness offered by our Heavenly Father, thankful that that I get to try to be a better mother again tomorrow and try to demonstrate His gentleness and forgiveness better to my children.

Icy Sidewalks

Responding to God's instruction when we receive it has really been on my heart lately. It's super easy, in theory. We hear THE WORD and we do it, right? Except, I don't ever get a nice, clear, booming voice from a mountain, an Angel appearing to me or a burning bush. Seriously, If I had that, I feel like it would be much easier to obey. Instead, I have a small voice waaaaay deep inside that talks to me. It's so easy to overlook that voice, to let the voices in my head (hahah) over power it and to let the din of life and the world around me drown it out. But it's scary to follow it. Really scary. He doesn't ask anything nice and simple, right?

There's a big hill here where I go to PWOC every morning. I park at the top, walk down the steep hill to the watchcare building and then hike back up to where PWOC meets. It's a bit of a long walk and it's been snowy and icy lately. This is such a small post that maintenance crews are nearly non-existent and they pretty much stick to the main roads. The chaplain's can be out there the sidewalk so that sidewalk is rather dicey. Every Tuesday, I start praying at the top of the hill as I creep down the icy, snowy sidewalk, clutching my sweet DeeDee in my arms.

It occurred to me during one of these walks that obeying God is like that. No one takes a running leap onto an ice patch..that would just be foolish. We all know that we'd end up sliding across the ice with a bruised behind and maybe a cracked skull. Instead, to get across an icy patch, we have to take it sloooow and easy; we gently step out on to the ice, placing our feet carefully and take teeny, tiny shuffling steps. One foot next to the other, I don't even put one foot all the way in front of the other because that's reaching too far. I test the ground and make sure I'm on solid footing and keeping my balance before taking another step. 

It can be terrifying to obey, because He doesn't generally give us easy things.  He gives us the big, scary, uncomfortable, impossible-to-do-on-our-own tasks. I usually take one of two approaches:  I get so excited that I take off running and sprinting to the finish line in a fit of passion or I'm so overwhelmed with the enormity of that task that I'm paralyzed with fear. I take off down the slipper hill, my feet fly out from under me and I end up bruised and battered or I stand with fear at the top of the hill and miss out because I'm afraid to walk.

I need to remember that I don't need to take any running leaps, I don't need to cover all the distance now, and I don't need to know worry about the bottom of the hill. But I do need to take a step forward; just take a teeny shuffling step in faith and keep my focus on HIM to ensure I am on solid footing.