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!
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