I was a bit off-kilter over the weekend, since I got word late last week that my uncle was in a coma, dying. We are not close, but he has always been kind to me, and unfortunately my father’s other brother died only a matter of months ago. Because of the suddenness of the crisis my dad was unable to fly out. It made me sad for him.
I suggested that my father could call one of my cousins and be put on speaker to talk to his brother. He did that, and it provided some comfort.
There was nothing else I could do, so I decided to busy myself Sunday afternoon baking bread. And then as the dough was rising, it occurred to me to turn it into sweet rolls. My father bakes sweet rolls for the family at Christmas, sending them out via overnight mail. It seemed a fine way to honor my dad.
Read More: A Fall into God’s Grace
My kids got up this morning, excited at the prospect of sweet rolls. As they munched happily, I thought of my dad and his brother, and prayed for them both. There is bitterness in life and there is sweetness. In this case, at least, the sweetness is being passed along to the next generation.
