Yesterday I made sugar cookies to take to school at lunch time for Cole’s birthday. Evidently it is still cool for mom to show up with cookies at middle school lunch as long as she doesn’t hang out too long. The cookies were homemade slice and bake, but I wanted to ice them to look like baseballs.
One thing to understand, I am not an artist and if I can’t just shoot a fun shape out of a cookie press and add sprinkles, I’m stretching my talents. Standing in the kitchen icing these cookies, I began to think about my son and how he is growing into a young man. I felt thankfulness for the grace and encouragement God had delivered over and over to us throughout the years. I thought about the day he was born and the first moment he looked at me as if to say, “so that is what you look like, I only knew your voice for these nine months.”
Then it came time to add the red icing to make the laces on the “balls”. It wasn’t great. Some were ok, and then I remembered my recipients, middle schoolers. The cookie that looked like home plate was good and I eeked out five or six good baseballs, the rest got sprinkles. I was running out of time and needed to get them over to school.
At one point I thought maybe I should scrap the idea and go buy the pretty ones from the bakery. But then I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to reflect and embrace the blessing of a birthday many years ago and yesterday.
I have no idea how Cole will remember his 2012 birthday. Maybe we will laugh about my attempt at cookie decorating; but I can almost promise you that he will know that every swipe of the icing spreader, and every squirt of the icing decorator was done with love. Yes, I could have easily swiped my debit card and bought pretty cookies, but it wouldn’t have been the same experience for either of us.
Think about it,