it ended with molasses.
first came a week-and-a-half of stress on stress. work (both ministries, no less). family. a sick daughter-gift. more questions and paperwork on our house closing. one thing after another. it felt like each day added to the day before.
then came a day of running around, getting ready for Thanksgiving. the to-do list seemed reasonable at the start. a trip to the grocery store. make a salad for Thanksgiving dinner. pack for the mini-retreat/vacation we had planned for the weekend. make the pepparkakor cookie dough so we can make and decorate cookies on said retreat/vacation. a full day, but not unreasonable. but I could the soul-zapping pressures of the last weeks draining me further away from the spirit of Thanksgiving and into the vortex of commercialism and priorities of the world.
an email invitation came, reminding me of a community Thanksgiving service. shared desire to attend as a family, but the reality of two days gone awry.
progress was being made on the to-do list. cookie dough, laundry, and packing remained.
despite the careful grocery run earlier, the molasses was missed. the anticipated vacation highlight of Christmas cookie baking together could not happen without it.
back to the store. a moment alone in the car with my heart and soul. the clock ticking down to the Thanksgiving service. and much still to accomplish before days end.
as I exited one store with its Christmas craziness already in full swing, it hit me that an hour of sleep was less important than thanking God for His bounty. before entering the second store in search of the elusive molasses, I called home, saying my soul needed the service and could survive without the sacrificed sleep.
a terribly hurried run through the grocery store (and an exit with the molasses!), a quick dinner, and we were off.
we’ve not been to this church before. tradition washed over us before we even reached the building and continued for the next hour. the booming pipe organ. stained glass windows. a joyous choir. hymns of gratitude to the Father. familiar and not. healing to a weary and stressed soul. reminders of how deeply thankful every day can and should be.
the troubles and worries of the last few weeks melted as we soaked in the words of hymn and prayer. His goodness pervades our lives in so many seen and unseen ways. in the middle of tough decisions. among the myriad details each day brings. in quiet moments and loud clash of the season. woven throughout are His graces and provisions. painted across our days are His fingerprints, often the mark of which we cannot trace until later. the gentle and heart-wrenching lessons run together in the tapestry of our faith journey. and our souls are better for the time spent acknowledging His hand.
the forgotten molasses afforded me the quiet moment to hear the cry of my soul to rest and intentionally join with others in thanks. what seemed another stress became a beautiful evening together with our little family and the community. the cookie dough was accomplished. the bags and car were packed. the Thanksgiving holiday enjoyed.
and after all was said and done, the cookie dough was left behind!
(sugar cookies to the rescue! the pepparkakor will wait for us to get home…)
abiding one 