a trying one.
Daily cares weigh heavily, yet ...
we have sandwich rolls to make.
I like to know
what's in the food my family eats,
...and who put it there.
The rhythm of kneading begins.
I think of the centuries of women who kneaded cares away before me...on rocks, in backs of covered wagons, before the campfire. Women who worked the dough in tiny cottages, and expansive homes...on plantations and farms, in tiny apartments.
It is a rhythm that women understand. It is a dance we dance together, across the generations.
There is value in the kneading...
...the day falls away.
.... all is well.
There is love
in the bread...and all is well.
Jesus said to them, I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungy, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.
May all your cares be light.