Sugar Delight

I'm not one for anticipating Mother's Day, though with all the advertising hooplah, it's sometimes hard not to in spite of deciding this. Expectation for the extraordinary most often leads to dissatisfaction with the ordinary, which, though ordinary, is no less full of beauty and the extra-ordinary if one is open to see it. It's just harder to see when you're looking for something Other.

Mother's Day was ordinary and good and full of dishes and girls to wash. We went to church, we came home and lounged, John blessed me by washing the morning's dishes, making lunch, and grocery shopping so that I wouldn't have to do it after the next day's sonogram, and things whirred along very much As Usual.

That is, until Millie whispered to John, and he smiled and said, "Go ahead! Maybe Mom can help you." Millie immediately ran outside, returning with two fistfuls of freshly picked lilacs ("for Mother's Day, even though I give you some every day," said she). When she donned the chef's hat we'd picked up for free from an ended garage sale the day before, I knew I was in trouble. I was banished to the living room, and she proceeded to order the younger two about like a chef on fire. "Bring me honey-brownsugar-marshmallows-raisins-
crispricecereal-water-and so it went until 20 minutes later, they'd single-handedly created a a bowlful of Love For Mother and a gooey mess in the kitchen I'd just finished cleaning.








Millie named her creation aptly. "It's called Sugar Delight, Mama," she said with sticky lips, and we scooped out some for all of us. Buster ate a double portion.






Overheard in the frenzy of culinary creation:

"My recipe needs a tad of salt," Millie muttered as she retrieved the GIANT CARTON of salt from the cupboard and began to tip it toward the bowl. I did briefly step in at this point to hand her a small salt shaker, but only for the sake of the dish's integrity.

"Since I'm the cook, I'm giving them special treats." (This gleefully said as she stuffed the faces of her loyal--no wonder!-- minions with marshmallows and chocolate chips.)

What I'm ashamed of is that after thanking, hugging, and kissing their beaming faces...AND eating a small bowl of Sugar Delight, I had to go outside for some quiet in which to adjust my rotten perspective before I came in to clean the kitchen again. Motherhood allows such joy in the form of children, and I was short-sighted and shallow enough to wish that it had also come in the form of a sparkling kitchen and a lazy mama. When I see, really see, what this calling of motherhood is-- what lies beneath, beside, between, all around, and stuffed in the ordinary cracks of each day-- I am utterly smitten by the glorious truth. It's all too easy to see the common tasks that each day resurrects from the day before, but these are nothing. They're only the minor trappings of a worthy and beautiful life, one with a value that endures, with God's preservation, to and through the end of our lives and the lives of our children and their children's children.

Look at the pride on this girl's face. It's a look worth more than ten million Hallmark Mother's Days, and God has heaped John and I with blessings. May He give us the grace to raise them rightly so that they go forth in joy to live His truth.



I've posted the recipe for this gooey goodness on buildabelly.
Have at it!