Update

So in my absense, we have moved to a different city (only 20min away) and I have moved my blog elsewhere. I have bigger ambitions with both our new house and my new blog so follow me on over to the new dwelling place for the adventure:

http://demannfam.weebly.com/

those cinnamon rolls.

Just a miniature little thing,
In my miniature red apron,
I stood on a chair pulled up to the counter top & watched the art that was forming in front of me.
Now, my mom didn't cook but boy, could she bake.
Sweet, doughy creations were the smell of home.
But my favorite of all these were the cinnamon rolls [with no icing I might add].
The cinnamon rolls that took an entire day to prepare,
The dough resting on top of the TV in the orange mixing bowl with a towel draped across,
& then from the kitchen, I'd hear about how I was walking too heavy and the dough was going to fall [was this just a myth to get us to settle down in our playfulness?],
Either way, I took no chances and sat quietly anxiously awaiting my favorite part.
And then it was time.
Time to punch the dough with my bony little fists in my miniature red apron.

& now, I have a family of my own.
In my own kitchen, I call on my mom for her special recipe,
Vague memories of watching her at work flash back as I try to create like she did.
To create those precious cinnamon rolls that were like pure honey to the lips and filled the home with the most delectable aroma.
I try my hand at the art,
Some of the steps a bit hazy in my memory,
But the one thing I didn't forget was to walk softly as to not cause the dough to fall.
And wait for the best part,
The part where I get to punch the dough with my slightly larger fists in my black&white apron.

thankfulness & how it humbles.

As I sit here on Thanksgiving morning eating pie and sipping on hot coffee in the comforts of my home, my heart strings are being pulled every which way. Joy for the life, families and freedoms the Lord has blessed us with. Shame for everything I tend to overlook in the hustle and bustle of everyday life.  But mainly this morning, I think of those who's circumstances are complete opposite of mine. Specifically, I think of the children who don't have a permanent roof over their head or a family that loves unconditionally.  I think about those same kids who long for exactly what I take for granted.  I wonder if those littles know the love that God has for them which exceeds all else or if they have ever heard the name of Jesus. & I think of what I am called to do about something that weighs so heavily on my heart.

Sometimes it's through the circumstances that we can't understand that God works to open our heart to something we, in our selfish desire, would not have pursued otherwise.  This year, he's given me a tender spirit for these orphan or unloved children. Children not birthed from me, but children who I could love as my own.  I want to live with an open door to my home to those young spirits who need a little extra love and attention.  I want to live a life seeking God's heart for the least.  I want to live with the realization that all little ones are Christ's children first and foremost & we are called to disciple them to be warriors for His kingdom.

It's my prayer this year, that He will reveal a glimpse of what he has in store for us as a family.  That he would show us his will and continue to grasp my heart in such a way that brings me to my knees in humbleness. & with that, I am thankful for the molding He does in my life & the heart for children He continues to bury deeper in my being.