Just a Little Help

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While my nephews were here, I couldn’t wait to make them cinnamon rolls.  I don’t make them often, but they are so yummy and I really enjoy the process!  So I got up early on the last morning they were with us and started the process of the 90 Minute recipe I have come to love.  If you’ve ever made cinnamon rolls, you know the process.

mixing, kneading, waiting, kneading, rolling, spreading, rolling, cutting, waiting, and finally the baking and the smelling, anticipating, mixing, waiting, frosting, anticipating, waiting and at last the enjoying

I had made it to the smelling phase of the project before the boys woke up.  I had just begun to mix the frosting when my youngest nephew came up and asked if he could help.  Of course I scrambled to find whatever I could think of for him to do.  Just the thing!  He could hold the measuring spoon for the vanilla for the frosting and dump it into the bowl of powdered sugar, milk and cream cheese.  So, he joyfully did just that.  He held the teaspoon over the bowl.  I poured from the [massive] Costco bottle of vanilla and he watched it splash into the pile of goodies below.  He put the measuring spoon in the sink and before I was even through putting the cap on the vanilla bottle, he had disappeared upstairs, distracted by one thing or another.  Okay!  I guess he had his share of helping 🙂  I proceeded to mix, wait, spread, wait, serve and devour with our little family.

Later that day, the boys and I met my step mother, their Nana, at the pool and we brought some of the cinnamon rolls with us.  My nephew was so excited to share that he helped make them!  It was so important to him that she knew he helped.  He said it multiple times with great enthusiasm.  “Nana, Nana, I helped make them!  I helped Nana!”

It struck me as so funny.  Of all the steps of making cinnamon rolls, my nephew contributed one teeny-tiny thing, but in his sweet little mind, he had contributed; he had helped; he could put his name on the finished product with pride.

I wonder if God ever looks down and sees me doing this same thing.  I do a little something, help out a bit, water the seeds, toss in my teaspoon of vanilla, and viola!  I’ve helped!  I can stamp my name on it!  I’ve contributed!  God did all the work, and even though He doesn’t need me, he delights in finding jobs for me to do, tasks that with His help, I can contribute.  Thanks, Dad!  Yours is ALL the glory~ thanks for letting me help just a little.  Help me to never forget how small I am and how big you are.

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