I made two batches of Christmas cookies yesterday and found myself reminiscing over how the process makes me feel connected to loved ones of Christmases past. For example, I remembered the special way my grandma stored her cookies. She kept them in tins on the floor of her front coat closet. The cookies stayed cold there because she had a mail slot in the wall that let the winter chill leak inside. I shuddered to go in there but the reward was worth a hundred shivers! As I flipped through old cookbooks, I found a note from 1994 showing we made 75 dozen cookies that year. Four families gathered with our little ones for a whole afternoon and made nine different kinds. As the kids got older, we got even more productive but the pizza bill in the evenings also got quite a bit larger.
Baking, in general, makes me feel more connected to my roots. As I considered which traditional cookies to make this Christmas and imagined the similarities of my process to other women in my family, I found myself cherishing those relationships and generations.
I also thought of friends. One of my girlfriends made a traditional British cookie. It was only her third Christmas in the US at the time. Another friend used salt in place of sugar in a recipe one year and we still laugh about those first confused bites of recognition. Another friend made huge monster cookies when the rest of us were making dainty and fancy Christmas morsels. She grew up on a farm with six kids. I’m sure that situation played a significant part in forming her family’s tradition. It was fun to see our unique histories reflected in the variety when everything got plated up.
The way I feel connected to my fellow bakers during cookie baking is much like the connection I feel to other special needs moms at holiday time.
When my stressors are high because Carly’s routines are out of whack or when family games are interrupted by a diaper catastrophe, I’m tempted to feel sorry for myself. Holidays have a way of shining a spotlight on the many ways my life is vastly different — more complicated and more demanding — than it is for most of those around me. I long for more freedom to experience the ease and spontaneous joys of festive seasons. And those thoughts can make me feel emotional, depressed, frustrated, guilty and different or isolated from the rest of the world.
Reality is I am not alone. There is a world full of special needs parents who know a great deal about challenges just like mine. They are in their own homes, often feeling very alone amidst the merriment too. That’s why one of my favorite go-to verses during holidays and vacations is 1 Peter 5:8-11. I am comforted that others understand my challenges and I find great reassurance that God is a warrior advocate for me.
Cast all your anxieties on God, because he cares for you. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up and resist him. You’re not the only ones plunged into these hard times. It’s the same with Christians all over the world. So keep a firm grip on your faith in Jesus Christ. The suffering won’t last. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are! — will have you put together and on your feet for good. God has you on a firm foundation.1 Peter 5:8-11 (paraphrased)
He holds dominion and He gets the last word. Yes, he does.
Friends, let’s praise God we are interconnected around the world and through the generations! I’ll be praying for you while I bake.