dinner rolls—day thirty one

My hand aches as I continue to turn the dough. I feel my grandmother’s eyes watching me, calculating how much flour should be put in. I know she is thinking of the hundreds of times she has made the dough, remembering how the smooth bread dough should feel.

She is patient when I am not. She waits and knows that a little of this, and a little more of this makes magic happen. She understands that good things (food included) come to those who wait.

This Easter season, I have so much to learn from her. While waiting for Jesus to rise again, I feel myself becoming impatient and just wanting Easter. But the process makes the product worthwhile. My faith is not defined by the end result, but by the journey I took. By the moments where Christ carried me through.

Just like my grandmother, I need to wait. I need to trust that more of this, and more of that will get the job done.

nine year old dreams—day twenty eight

The giddiness hasn’t worn off yet. The thought of winning a varsity match has lingered in my head for so long, that the reality seems unobtainable. 

However, I’m not the same nine year old. I’m not the same player, nor am I the same person. I have been through so much that has helped to mold the person I am at this very second. Everything I have worked for has led up to this point. 

rising heart rate—day twenty seven

As I look around my freshly cleaned home, the excitement of Easter is upon me. With the joyous celebration comes a lot of housework that is time consuming as well as mind numbing. While I’m working, I can daydream about the upcoming season & all that it will bring into my life. The amount of blessings that will be highlighted in the next week makes my heart leap & heart rate rise in anticipation.

dancing—day twenty two

With the final sounding of the buzzer, the Loyola Ramblers keep on dancing. 

Fans across the nation cheer, some in praise of their alma matter and some for the sake of their brackets. Either way, the Cinderella story continues and the magic of March Madness continues. 

sweatshirt—day twenty one

Spring is coming. 

Longer & warmer days are ahead. 

Days full of humid sunshine & lots of pool time.

Days that start with air conditioning, and end with sweatshirts and heavy blankets. 

The snowfalls can try to fool, but we know the heart of spring lies within the Michigander. When the sun comes out, our lives move outdoors so we can be with it. 


cardboard boxes—day twenty

The chicks let out sounds of distress and concern that immediately send me into “mother hen” mode. I wrap my arms around the cardboard boxes and squeeze them tightly, doing my best to reduce the shock of turns and potholes on the roads. They quiet eventually, and I smile softly. My work has only just begun.

“the look”—day nineteen

My fever reaches higher and higher, and I feel my control of my body slipping away. 

The doctor tells me the results don’t point to anything, but I know she thinks there is something much larger going on. The way she looks at my parents when she thinks I don’t notice tells me everything I need to know. 

This isn’t my first go-around, nor is it my last. 

red alert—day sixteen

My phone’s battery is turning red and I know I need to make this quick.

My eyelids grow heavier with each blink, begging me to let them sleep a little longer. 

My muscles ache, letting me know that I did all I could today. 

I have worked hard, and am ready to rest even harder.