There is just something about the feel of it in my hands.
The entire process is a joy, as it allows me to express my creative side.
This afternoon I decided to make dinner rolls to go with the chili our friend was bringing over.
I stirred in one ingredient after another; blending carefully.
The beaten egg whites resisted becoming part of the whole for a short time, but the folding of the spoon became too much for them!
The fun began once the mixing was accomplished.
It was time to knead that lump until it came to life under the push and pull of the palms of my hands.
This was followed by a time to allow it to rise and then came the shaping.
If that lump of dough could think and speak, it might have imagined what it was going to be.
Would it have protested as I pulled it apart into eighteen small lumps?
Would it have understood that it was going to offer nourishment to many?
As I shaped each piece into a little roll an analogy came to me.
My day had been just like this dough....
Every morning I commit my day to the LORD; seeking Papa's guidance and blessing upon it.
Often I think I really am just telling Him what I plan to do with my time rather than getting any direction from Him. It is important for me to picture placing it and me in His hands.
The day begins as one big piece with a variety of ingredients to be divided to some degree and then given shape.
Today I thought I was going to keep it in a few larger pieces.
After the usual morning routine I headed off to a prayer group, which focuses on the ACTS4 ministry.
I planned to chat afterward with my friend and then deliver a car seat to a young mother.
All of which, I did.
The delivery of that car seat didn't go as quickly as I expected.
Suffice it to say that it resulted in me carrying it a block in the pouring rain.
I had encountered one in the "Entitlement Generation."
The choice was to not make the delivery and be party to a small child unsafe in a car or go the extra 'block" to insure the child's future safety.
No choice there.
The rest of my morning was slated for more prayer. Just Jesus and me sharing some alone time.
So I thought.
One little piece was torn off at a time.
A call from a son that needed some assistance handling an issue right then.
That particular issue raised others that needed exploring...
And so it went.
With each interruption I had the sense that they each were God ordained and not simply distractions.
Finally, with effort, I left what could wait and sought to have a little of that one-on-one, when the phone rang once again and I knew it was yet another call that I was to answer.
A distraught mother.
I am happy to report that Papa and I did get that one-on-one, albeit a much abbreviated version of what I had anticipated.
In quieting down before Him it seemed as if both of us were just settling down together after our mutual busyness.
It was a sweet feeling.
Life is so much easier when I don't insist on my own way and remember to stay flexible. Then no matter how many pieces my day gets pulled apart into I will be free to offer nourishment to others.
"So teach us to number our days, that we may present o You a heart of wisdom." Psalm 90:12