And then my nine year old daughter makes cookies. All by herself. Perfect little ones. She's careful and precise and doesn't burn a one. She even successfully doubles the recipe.
As I munch on a dainty morsel, so cute, it nestles on the rim of my garage sale find saucer,
I know I can't do and be everything she needs me to be. I'll teach her what I know and when I lose my patience and take it out on her, I'll apologize, and start with fresh resolve to die to self. Again. And the One I trust her to will fill the gaps because she is His and I am His and He is our God.
And at least she knows how to make cookies.
Unwrapping the gift of cookies I didn't have to make for Tuesdays Unwrapped:
