Why “My Banana Bread?”

My marriage was falling apart. I was barely functioning most days. But on this day, in the summer of 2015, I was having a good day. I decided I wanted to make banana bread from scratch.

I doubled my favorite recipe. I added whole wheat flour and chocolate chips just like I liked it. After I poured it into my 9×13 glass pan, I crumbled a butter, brown sugar, and oat mixture all over the top to create the final sweet, crunchy touch.

After I cooked it to perfection I looked at it sitting on the counter and decided I wasn’t in a sharing mood. I decided to hide it in the laundry room away from the curious noses and hungry bellies of the neighbor kids who were over playing. My kids rarely had a treat like this through those difficult days and I wanted us to be able to have a treat that would last a few days.

I carried it into the laundry room and set it carefully on top of our washing machine. Then I decided to be ultra amazing and start a load of laundry since I was feeling so good!

I shoved the laundry in the front of the machine, dumped the soap in the dispenser, chose my setting, and hit go. I felt like a responsible adult in that moment. I could do this. I could adult today.

Then I left the laundry room and sent the neighbor kids home so I could run an errand with my kids.

The whole time we were driving home from running the errand I was dreaming about how good this home-made banana bread would taste. I was salivating as I opened the door and headed through the kitchen to the laundry room.

As I came around the corner, the first thing I saw was shards of glass scattered across the floor and I instantly remembered- our washing machine was off balance and shook like crazy. My beloved pan of banana bread was shaken to it’s death.

The machine was off now and sat in innocent stillness, but I knew what it had done. I looked down in saddened defeat at my banana bread that had landed crunchy-topping first onto the disgusting rug that lead out to our garage. As repulsive as that rug was, and as dangerous as the shards of glass that had landed in it were, I was pretty desperate for a taste (and I’m kind of disgusting I guess), so I squatted down and started poking around for a part that maybe didn’t have dirt, lint, or glass shards in it.

It was still warm and it smelled so good… and it was also useless. As I got looking closer I realized it was a total shimmering hazard. The whole thing was a loss. I pulled the rug out of the way, opened the garage door, picked up the rug with both hands, banana bread and all, and walked toward the garbage can to dispose of it all.

As I walked, I looked down at the bread in depressed defeat. The glass in the bread shimmered like glitter in the light and I realized I literally lacked the ability to pick out the shards to salvage it. Suddenly, in that crushed moment, I heard a voice in my mind say, “I could’ve saved that. You couldn’t have, but I could have.”

And that is what He has been doing with my life and with my marriage ever since.

This blog is made up of the lessons I’m learning, the miracles I’m witnessing, and the love I’m feeling as I heal and become a new person thanks to the atonement of Jesus Christ and the love of my Father in Heaven. They are rescuing my family and I.

I dedicate this blog to Them.