Breann baked a cake. She did a wonderful job!
I didn't lift a finger for it, really. Other than helping her to make sure the cake was done baking, she did everything herself. Wonderful, I'm tellin' ya!
This weekend. I did a bit of Bible Journaling.
Proverbs 31. It tells us how we need to live as women. As Wives. As Moms. This Scripture has so much instruction. So in our Journaling Group, we've been studying the book of Proverbs. Last night though. At my kitchen table, I sat across from my daughter. As she was decorating an Easter cake, I was Journaling. And this is what I journaled. And I put the date incorrectly. I put the 14th instead of the 15th. But once I realized it, I realized I had to keep going. And. That just made this stand out even more. Through the mess ups, God is still working in us. He's amazing. He makes women amazing creatures, we just have to let Him work through our messiness, and work for His good. Other than the date, this turned out okay though. Maybe even the date is okay too.
And. Then. This, though. Friday evening. I was asked "who is your dad." I'm young (kinda, especially if you don't ask my kids). And people sometimes automatically think my parents are still living. When I'm asked this question it throws me off guard. "Who IS your dad." Until Friday night I didn't know how to say anything except to answer in past tense. It rattled me. As it always does.
My parents being gone is the root cause of my anxiety. Not their fault for this, I don't blame them. Death happens, it's just accepting it that's sometimes hard. And when I say I have anxiety I don't mean that lightly. Only my family and close friends know the pure heck I've went through, alongside my doctor who diagnosed me with anxiety. It's a hard, hard thing and I wouldn't talk about it for a very long time because I was ashamed, when there really isn't anything to be ashamed of.
Anyhow. Back to how to answer that question. I still answered it like I shouldn't have Friday night. "My Dad WAS from Dickenson County." Instead I've come to realize my parents are still my parents. Death hasn't taken them away from me. They're just gone for awhile. Because of what Jesus has did, I can answer just as I would if my Dad was sitting beside of me. "My Dad IS Robert Taylor. He's from Dickenson County." My Dad IS. NOT he was. Oh. Death where is thy sting? Jesus conquered you!!
We celebrate Easter this weekend. We've made so many wonderful memories!
Be like Habakkuk. That's what I'm telling myself. It's Sunday evening, I'm sitting here. I'm trying to find a way to encourage and it's because of the One who encourages me.
You see. Our daughter. I can still see the light in her eyes as she talks of her State Competition for FBLA at Reston. I can still nearly hear her heart pounding with joy and excitement at her anticipation for the competition. Something she (and we) highly hoped she'd win and be able to then compete in nationals in California in the Summer.
But. Then. I got the text message. We didn't even place, she tells us. And. She's disappointed. She's mad. She's hurt. She expected to win, and she didn't. And. While that's okay with us. She's had a hard time grasping that it's okay with her.
So I'm trying to Mother her as she needs me. She's sixteen, but this is the way I can Mother her in this season. I'm trying to show her it's okay that she lost the competition, because she gave it her best. She had a memorable experience. She made memories. She's disappointed now, but she can, she will, and she should move forward. I am encouraging her to do this as today's Sermon rings in my ears to be like Habakkuk. So. Be like Habakkuk is what I encourage. Now. Naturally we're not Habakkuk. If the Lord wanted us to be him, then we would've been. But the Lord created us to be us. And while I say be like, I don't mean it so literal. You see. Habakkuk trusted in the Lord. When things failed, he trusted. In the good and the bad we should trust. We should lay it all at the feet of Jesus, just as Habakkuk did. And. Trust!
Then. There's this evening. Monday is coming on full force. My husband is listing all of the places he has to travel for his work. Neither of us liking it. Anxiety easily creeps up on me. Be like Habakkuk, I tell myself. We need to be like Habakkuk, and lay it at the feet of Jesus.
Then. There's this new business adventure I've started, a boutique. Oh, yes! It's definitely exciting. But. Yes, it could definitely be scary. Be like Habakkuk.
There's farm life. There's house building. There's life. When life has a lot of what-ifs, live by faith. Be like Habakkuk.
Behold, his soul which is lifted up is not upright in him: but the just shall live by his faith. Habakkuk 2:4 KJV
Other photos from the last week or two:
Breann and I went shopping.
