A day of rest

On this Sabbath day, we found many ways to rest. At times, resting meant napping or reading with Maggie. For me, resting also meant baking. Ree Drummond has this awesome cinnamon roll recipe which takes a little work with hours of rest in between. The perfect recipe for a Sunday of healing. There is something prayerful and meditative about feeding yeast and kneading dough.  After I was done making three large trays of cinnamon rolls, I realized it was a lot of work...but it seemed a perfect way to connect with my word for the year, "savor."

My word for the year almost seems like a cruel joke to me at times now. How can you tell a young mother to savor each moment when she just lost the child who should be feeding and savoring the milk from her breasts? How can you tell a no-longer pregnant woman to savor the delicious food in front of her when suddenly she can eat whatever she wants and everything tastes a hundred times better, because her taste buds have finally re-turned to normal, because she is no longer supporting the baby she used to have inside her.

At other times the word seems like an essential and necessary gift for me in this process. Choosing to savor the moment, means choosing not to resent this pregnancy, this baby boy. Choosing to savor this moment with my spouse, means choosing not to shame him or myself by continuing to question if we could have done anything different to prevent this from happening. Choosing to savor the moments I will have with my friends, means choosing to share our pain and our hope, instead of hiding in a cave or rejecting their help.

It reminds us to savor each other, to savor our joyful memories from the last 24 weeks. It helps understand the words of our dear friend Rose, "The gift of joy that you have been given can never be taken away." Savoring those memories instead of resenting them helps us to grasp onto the joy which feels out of our reach.