Today’s plans were cancelled (again) due to austere winter weather
conditions (again). Instead of briskly
circling the track during my husband’s cardiac rehab session (think hamster
wheel, only flat, with a revolving oldster going in circles rather than a furry critter) and then
hosting our 5-year-old granddaughter on a Fancy Day Field Trip to The City, I’m home in my small kitchen baking cinnamon rolls.*
As I wait for the yeast-infused dough to rise, I reflect on the reality of being
snowbound. Yes, there’s an element of cabin fever and the inevitable urge to
GET OUT. And yet as the hours slow
down, I see life through a magnifying lens that zeroes in on intrinsic values more
than action.
Time becomes more
meaningful. I savor each moment for its own worth as a precious, valuable,
cherished measurement of life. In the midst of the creeping minutes, presence also becomes precious. The
people in my life seem more obviously endearing to me.
Even as I type this, my sweet, cinnamon-struck indulgences bake
in the hot oven. Heady aromas slowly
waft through the house like dreamy, aromatic wands opposing the sharp winds outside - gusts that alternately shred and sculpt snowdrifts. I’m held captive by the spicy,
butter-logged smells from freshly-baked goods that will also soon delight others,
and the magnificence of God’s blessing right here and now: mercy to see, magnify,
and glue together the smallest, most elemental and precious aspects of life as viewed
through His lens.
* * *
*I should clarify that we will not eat even one of these rolls – they are disqualified from
our current gluten-free, sugar-free diet – but rather they will be given to
family and friends. However, we will
salivate freely and enjoy the smells.
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