The other day a group of girlies asked me what my favourite food was. At that moment it hit me that losing my memory also meant that my taste buds and their stories also took a back seat. Eventually I said in a low voice ‘pancakes’. It’s not a crepe versus American pancakes question. The bottom line is I have a soft space in my heart for well cooked pancakes.
Yesterday, was a bit of a hard day. To counter the lows I asked a friend if I could come over for breakfast. She said yes.
When I came and found pancakes, I felt a divine embrace. Witnessing that God sees and God cares. He knows what pancakes mean to me.
My new prayer is derived from Luke 12:28
‘And if God cares so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little Faith?’
Little did I know those pancakes were so strategic to help me remember how wonderfully God is as I settle down.
Today my heart is on the heavier side, as I also plan to go back to hospital. I feel the tears threatening to flow. Many questions shuffling behind the scenes. Quieting anxiety that wants to speak. Overthinking, analyzing and sorting puzzles.
My heart is pegged on God’s amazing promise to care for me. In the good report or bleugh report. In the good days and not so good ones.
I pray that you may also get to experience a reminder of how wonderfully cared for you are, a sweet love like pancakes.❤️
Bibi2Be 
For sure God doe’s cares about our desires.
One reason I don’t like pancakes is because if they are well cooked, you shouldn’t serve me less than ten😜😂
Hahahaha I see we both like well cooked pancakes. It is hard to stop.