This week…

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I have seen beautiful sunrises and breath-taking sunsets.

I have been hugged by family.

I have laughed deeply with friends.

I have been spoiled by my husband

and encouraged by co-workers.

I have designed

and instructed

and dreamed.

I have met God’s blessing at every turn.

This week, I have been anointed by the beauty of the ordinary and flown in the company of angels…

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a familiar feeling

It was nice to be back at home last weekend for my son’s graduation from the University of Missouri-Kansas City. The Loyce (my dad and Joyce) drove to Omaha to pick me up then turned around and drove back to Independence – all in one day. We had a fun trip, hovering around the Nebraska, Iowa and Missouri borders. I stayed in the same bedroom, the same bed, that I grew up in. So many hours were spent daydreaming in that room. At 48 years old, I am happy the majority of those dreams have been exceeded. I am relieved, as well, that some of those hopes turned out to be unsubstantial.

My parents have always tenderly cared for their yard and gardens. It takes a great deal of patience and foresight to grow trees from saplings and young bushes into flowering displays. They possessed that ability. Teachers, even among outdoor life. After all the graduation hoopla was over, it was nice to walk through the yard with Dad, looking at the peonies and Japanese iris, ready to burst. To celebrate with the festive snowball bush, heavy-laden with beautiful white blooms. To inspect a rosebud, just beginning to unfold its layers of fragrant petals. All along the walk, Dad would bend and pull stray weeds, so typical of many days before in my childhood.

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The whole weekend we watched a mother robin fly in and out of the nest built in the corner of the back porch. The nest was filled with hungry, churping babies. She brought the fattest worms to them! She was also very protective when anyone got near enough to hurt them.

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As we all sat around on the back porch after Baird’s graduation…Anna-Margaret, Craig, Jacqueline, Lauren, Dad, Joyce, Larry, Baird, Hannah, me (& Scott on his way), the mother bird flew in and out of the nest, keeping a watchful eye on us all. It was evident, in the midst of all the commotion and animated conversation and eating and laughing, there was an ever-present Mother, proudly watching her brood…

Resurrection Rolls with Hannah

This Easter was certainly different. With all the surgeries and doctor’s appointments lately, Scott and I needed to stick close to home. This meant that for the first time in 48 years, I didn’t have an Easter basket. For the first time in 25 years, I was not with my children. I was not around any family.

Yet God, in His infinite wisdom, allowed Scott to be home the entire day. His work schedule rotation just happened to allow him to come home the night before and not work again until the next morning. Absolutely perfect timing.

So Hannah and I planned a cooking time together on the phone. We made Resurrection Rolls. I read about them on a blog somewhere and we gave it a try.

The concept was to dip marshmellows in melted butter then roll them in cinnamon and sugar. We then wrapped the croissants tightly around the marshmellows, sealing all the edges.

As we worked through the above procedure, we talked about the service Scott and I attended that morning (different blog post). We talked about things going on in each of our lives and plans for the immediate few days ahead (yet another blog post!) We gave suggestions back and forth about what was working and what was not.

Then we put our wrapped marshmellows in the oven and hung up the phone while they cooked. As the oven buzzer went off, we called each other back. We laughed over the results and ate the yummy rolls.

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The marshmellows (representing Christ) and the butter and cinnamon sugar (representing the ointments placed on Christ’s body) ‘disappear’ when they’re cooked leaving any empty roll that is filled with delicious sweet cinnamon.

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Mostly though…Christ’s body kind of oozed all over the cookie sheet. A slightly disconcerting feeling. (The edges need to be VERY tightly squeezed together before cooking. Oops!)

Marshmellow body resurrected or not, the rolls were VERY, VERY yummy!

And the conversation on the phone…the shared experience of trying this new tradition out over the phone…hearing my daughter’s laugh and voice…

truly a sacred experience.

Thank you, Hannah, for sharing such a silly new experience with me! It felt a little, like I was at home.

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(view from Hannah’s side)