Of bread, belief and bungling

     Sometimes, I am not Betty Crocker. It isn't that I don't want to be the woman whose husband comes home to a sparkling home and a delicious nutritious dinner hot on the table. It isn't that I don't want to stare smiling into my  perfectly organized closet and see linens and clothing neatly hung and folded like little soldiers. My intentions are great. But sometimes, actions and intentions don't fit so neatly together. The bread dough splatters all over the kitchen, then doesn't rise in time for dinner. The cake turns into a pudding. I forget to put tenderizer on the meat. The laundry sits unfolded on the couch. I am not, most certainly, the vision of loveliness I had in mind when I woke up this morning.  Then my wonderful husband walks in the door after a longer, harder day at work. He smiles at me gently. I am too stressed out to appreciate this. 

     After he leaves to deliver dinner to the missionaries, I sit surrounded by all of this. I feel like a failure. He doesn't deserve this. He works hard. He is the kindest, most compassionate man I know. He is so strong and endures trials with faith and trust in God. I sit and think on our marriage and the joy it has brought me. I feel deeply ashamed.  I want so much to do and be better for him. 

     I know I am making efforts. Small, seemingly inconsistent efforts, but efforts none the less. I am trying. My goal is to do one more thing for Greg each day than I did the day before. The rolls now finally ready to bake are filling the house with the smell of baking bread. I am waiting for Greg to return.  I think on the made beds upstairs, on the clean sink and the linen closet. I know I need to do more, but  I am also filled with hope that this is possible.  Through the grace of God and the love of my husband I can become all I am meant to be. It isn't easy, but it is possible. I am ready to get back to the dishes and labor with a smile.  I love Greg for his patience and am grateful to my Father in Heaven for his love for me, even in sending His Son, Jesus Christ, and then his son, my husband to help me be who I am meant to.