This morning I'm making homemade chocolate chip cookies to take to a Labor Day party.
Somehow I grew up believing a lie. I thought I had to be perfect to be loved. My mother didn't like her kitchen messed up. One thing I always wanted to learn how to do was to make Christmas cookies--the kind you decorate with icing and sprinkles--the kind they show in magazines around Christmastime.
But we never made cookies when I was little.
And remember, I thought I had to do everything perfectly. What if I tried and they were terrible?
Last Christmas, I made cookies with my kids for the VERY FIRST TIME. They are 25, 23, and 16.
Katie, my middle child, made the ugliest Christmas cookies you can imagine--even used ORANGE and BLACK colors--hideous-looking.
As I stood there in the messy kitchen and laughed at her cookies, the truth hit me. AGAIN. (Sometimes it takes a few times for a truth to sink in--at least for me it does.)
I don't have to be perfect to be loved. And neither do my cookies.
Thank you, God. You continue to teach me about Your love through my children. You love us with an EVERLASTING LOVE.