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Bread.



 I am certain written on my gravestone will be the words: everything can be solved by homemade bread. 

I am firmly in this camp. I try to give it up, to eat eggs, and I can’t. I literally can’t. 

And you know what. it's ok. 

We had a no school day and I made bread and bagels and granola and homemade meatballs and this also gives me life. Cooking when there’s time and there’s no timeline and the kitchen will get cleaned up again because I don’t have to rush off somewhere. There are moments that I think I could stay home while the kids are in school. Where I could be a stay at home-r, long term. but then I think about the joy of the weekend, and the way I’m kind of falling in love with what I do, and that I still have the ability to still see my kids a lot but also have a totally separate life, and I think: this is truly what God wants for me right now. It’s a re-building in a way. It’s a re-learning of who I am. I went through the last year and a half a little lost. I felt untethered sometimes and extremely wobbly all the time. And I am still teetering on the edge of wanting to run away and wanting to see what God is teaching me. I know He is faithful, I've witnessed it. I know He is steadfast and good. I know He provides. He gives us our daily bread. My reminder of my daily dependence on Him. 

xo. edc

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