Monday morning I was making breakfast and talking with Kaleeya and Tytus as they sat very chatty at the bar. In between flipping crepes I was trying to get all the clean Sunday dinner pots and pans put away so we could see the rest of the counter top. In mid sentence Tytus stopped, pointed and half laughing joked, “Hey Mom...maybe just buy a new pan that doesn’t have your life history on it.” I looked down to the oldest cookie sheet man has ever known...with two last names scribbled out and one more written boldly. We all burst into hysterics—I haven’t laughed that hard in such a long time. These kids are so witty.
Since Dateline first told about Emmett’s affairs and shooting 6 years ago, and many other murder mystery shows have since, I always know when an episode about our story—or Dr. Phil—has aired again. I gain a lot of new friends, but I also find enemies—messages of hate trying to make me feel as if I should be ashamed of myself. This week has been one of those weeks. Yesterday as I read a message from a very passionate soul, I sat stunned at the gumption of her direct words about who she believes I am. In a moment of being human, I let her words enter my heart. Weirdly enough they came in the form of my own fears...”Wow. Your relationship with a cookie sheet has lasted longer than any marriage you have had”.
It’s true. This cookie sheet has literally stood by my side longer than these five kids got to see their father and longer than I got to be Jordyn’s mom. I remember the exact moment we started out—me and this cookie sheet. We thought we had the world at our fingertips. We dreamed of one day cooking Christmas ornaments with tiny baby hands. We dreamed of the cookies we would bake on their first day of school. Birthday cakes and card game trays on road trips. Brand new and shinny it glistened with promises of years to come. We both couldn’t wait to get started.
As I stare at this old cookie sheet, I have begun to realize how different real life has been from the one we imagined...but...most of our dreams have come true. We are both a little stained and burned in some spots...but we have lived our dreams—just in a whole different way than we had planned. Well guess what? I made cookies on that tattered little pan and they cooked just as they always have. They were delicious and toasty brown—just as they were 15 years ago—and everyone loved them.
I used to spend a lot of time feeling ashamed that life has handed me so many struggles—and just as many last names. I used to think that happiness was never having to change—living without loss and failure. I used to think that what others thought of me was important. Now I know...this was always the plan. We get to keep finding our worth even when others can’t see it.
Kind of like my little “life history” cookie sheet...we all find ourselves in different circumstances. Some might be ideal, others might be a season of maturing and growth. We might get burned. Some days we might do the burning. We might get lost for a while when we get dropped behind a broken drawer. We will make mistakes, forget to set timers, forget to prepare for the heat, or forget to dust ourselves off...but we are still worthy of making greatness. Capable of bringing smiles simply by doing what we were created to do. Bake cookies. Live life.
You aren’t alone. You have been burned and sometimes forgotten. You have felt broken and have looked back and wished you could shine like you used to. Just keep baking anyway. You have so much to offer, and if no one can see it right now...just know your worth simply by all you can do for others. Know your worth doesn’t come from another person—but from within. Truths about who you are will never be replaced by what another believes you to be. Truths about who you really are don’t come from years of searching...they come by moments of remembering. You were born for greatness. Keep baking.