- Speaker #0
Welcome back to Season 1, Chapter 3, Daily Bread. Hello, I'm Kimberlee Herman, your host. And today we're stepping back into Mira's journey, one that speaks to the hearts, memories and the sacred gift of the present moment. In our last episode, Mira spent more time with Grandma Eden in her garden. She learned that hardships reveal our character. And in hardship, we have two choices. and complain and stay with what's familiar or choose to dig deep for transformation. She also met Nathaniel, the wood artist. Today, Mira spends time with Charity who helps her as she prepares to see her mom. I'll meet you on the other side of the story with reflections, live it out action steps and prayer. Let's listen in.
- Speaker #1
Mira sat in silence at her kitchen table thinking about ancient well story, and then the phone call from Nurse Rose. She was preparing herself to see her mum, Ruth, that afternoon.
- Speaker #2
My mother called out for me by name.
- Speaker #1
Just then, her phone rang again. She pulled it from her pocket and saw Mum flashing on the screen. Her heart tightened. Her mother, Ruth, rarely called anymore. Most days, dementia kept her wandering in a fog, confusing past and present, forgetting even Mira's name.
- Speaker #2
Mom? Where are you?
- Speaker #1
Mira's breath caught. That voice, clearer than she'd heard in months, slipped through the static like sunlight through storm clouds.
- Speaker #2
I'm on my way, Mom. I'll be there soon.
- Speaker #1
Mira stood up, the chair scraping back. She grabbed her bag and keys, already moving, heart pounding against her ribs. The neighboring city of whispering trees was only about an hour away, so she had time to think. Should she expect a breakthrough? Or another heartbreaking disappointment? Halfway down Dahlia Drive, something inside her whispered, stop at Daily Bread.
- Speaker #2
This makes no sense. I don't really have time for cinnamon rolls or small talk.
- Speaker #1
But the feeling tugged at her.
- Speaker #2
Maybe I just need to see Charity, who always, somehow, cuts through the fog in my head the way Mom no longer can. Okay, I'll stop. I could use some coffee for the road, too.
- Speaker #1
The scent of warm cinnamon honey bread wrapped around Mira like a familiar blanket as she stepped inside. Sunlight spilled across the wood floors, dancing over glass cases filled with baked comfort. The bakery always felt safe, like a hug made of butter and flour. Behind the counter, Charity worked dough with quiet authority. Her blonde and silver hair pulled back in a neat bun. Her sleeves were dusted in flour. and her bright brown eyes lit up when she saw Mira.
- Speaker #2
Oh, Mira
- Speaker #3
I haven't seen you in a while.
- Speaker #1
Mira offered a faint smile.
- Speaker #2
Yeah, life's been... a lot to handle.
- Speaker #1
Charity wiped her hands on a towel and gestured toward the stools by the counter.
- Speaker #3
Sounds like you need something warm. Cinnamon roll?
- Speaker #2
I can't stay long. My mom... She called me today. I'm heading there now.
- Speaker #1
But Charity was already sliding a plate in front of her. The icing glistened, the scent rose up like a memory. Mira sat, tension still coiled in her shoulders. She tore a piece of the roll, savoring the soft, warm dough.
- Speaker #2
She hasn't called in ages. Most days she doesn't even know who I am. So I guess I'm trying not to... Hope too much.
- Speaker #1
Charity's brows lifted gently.
- Speaker #3
Hmm, could it be a gift?
- Speaker #1
Mira stiffened.
- Speaker #2
I think it's a trap. I think I'll get there and she'll be staring past me like I'm a nurse she doesn't trust. I think it'll hurt more because she remembered me for just a moment.
- Speaker #1
Charity didn't flinch. She turned back to her doe, working it in slow, circular motions.
- Speaker #2
Any thoughts?
- Speaker #3
Yes, I'm glad you asked. Feel the pain. Let it ache, but don't let it steal the moment. These little flashes of light, they don't fix everything, but they do mean something.
- Speaker #1
Mira stared at her.
- Speaker #2
It feels unfair.
- Speaker #3
Of course it does. Human love can feel unfair at times, but maybe today is less about what's fair and more about what's still possible for today.
- Speaker #1
Charity's words settled over her like sugar dust. Mira looked down at the cinnamon roll and finally took a bite. The sweetness grounded her. She had spent so much time grieving the mother she used to know. The one who had always been sharp, strong and steady. She had focused so much on the days when dementia stole her away that she hadn't thought to just be present when the light broke through.
- Speaker #2
So you're saying I should just be there? Be there. Hold her hand.
- Speaker #3
Laugh with her if she remembers something funny and let her know she's loved. Even if she forgets later, she'll feel it now.
- Speaker #1
Mira exhaled slowly, nodding. She had been so afraid of the pain of her mother slipping away that she hadn't realized the beauty of now.
- Speaker #3
Today is a gift, Mira.
- Speaker #1
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment. Then Mira's gaze drifted to the back wall. A few new framed photographs hung there. Charity as a younger woman, arms around a girl with bright auburn curls and a wide smile.
- Speaker #2
Who's that?
- Speaker #1
Charity followed her gaze. A wistful smile touched her lips.
- Speaker #3
That's my daughter Lily. She's very lost, but I still have hope that she'll find her way back.
- Speaker #1
Before Mira could ask more, the bell over the door jingled. Nathaniel Ember stepped inside, carrying a small wooden box. His presence was calm and quiet, like a whispered prayer in a still room. He set the box gently on the counter and nodded toward Charity.
- Speaker #4
Hi there, Charity I hope your day is going well. Your order's finally ready. I'm sorry it took a little longer than expected.
- Speaker #1
He turned to Mira with a kind smile.
- Speaker #4
Good to see you again, Mira.
- Speaker #1
Mira returned the smile.
- Speaker #2
Delivering another beauty, I see.
- Speaker #1
Charity ran her fingers over the carved wheat stalks inside and outside of the box. She looked at the wood with reverence.
- Speaker #2
Oh, Nathaniel,
- Speaker #3
it's so perfect
- Speaker #1
He nodded, bashful. Mira leaned closer, fingertips brushing the intricate pattern.
- Speaker #3
It's beautiful,
- Speaker #1
she whispered, and then declared,
- Speaker #3
You're really gifted.
- Speaker #5
Thanks, Mira. You are going to make my ego grow too big.
- Speaker #1
Charity handed the box to Mira.
- Speaker #3
This box will keep my written prayers safe. Once they're answered, I'll hang them on this wall for all to see.
- Speaker #1
Charity pointed to the wall where the new pictures of Lily hung. Mira swallowed hard. Her fingers lingered on the grooves in the wood.
- Speaker #2
I don't understand why people take the time to write out prayers, let alone pray. What's the point? But it sounds sweet.
- Speaker #3
I understand. It's not something you're familiar with. I'm happy to answer any questions you have about prayer when you're ready.
- Speaker #1
Mira smiled.
- Speaker #2
Thanks, Charity. Okay, I'm off to see my mom. Can I get a cinnamon honey for the road? That's my mom's favorite bread.
- Speaker #1
Charity handed her a warm loaf.
- Speaker #3
On the house, here's some coffee for the drive too. Remember, today is a gift.
- Speaker #1
Mira waved goodbye to Nathaniel and Charity while holding the warm loaf of cinnamon honey bread under her arm.
- Speaker #2
My heart feels steadier, like I can face what is waiting without breaking.
- Speaker #1
As Mira stepped out of the bakery, a man caught her eye from across the street. He stood still for a moment, then disappeared into the shadow of a brick storefront, tall, with dark eyes and something heavy about him, like a grudge he'd been carrying too long. It made her stomach turn. She slid into her car, unsettled. But then the warmth of the fresh loaf in her lap helped to quiet the unease that tried to cling to her as she drove toward the small, quaint town of whispering trees where her mother waited. Friends, today is about presence, about rising however slow, because today isn't about what had been lost. It was about what can still be found. Take it away, Kimberlee.
- Speaker #0
Let's walk this story home and step inside the meaning. Many of us have faced seasons where someone we love begins to fade, whether through illness, distance or time. It's easy to grieve what once was or fear what's ahead. But what if instead of focusing on what's slipping away, we learn to embrace what's right in front of us? I have three reflections and three live it out action steps today. Number one, the fear of loss can steal today's joy. Mira spent so much time mourning the mother she used to know that she almost missed the moment when her mother Ruth reached out. It wasn't perfect or permanent, but it was real. Fear of the future can quietly steal the joy that God places in front of us today. When we live in tomorrow, we miss what's happening now. Hear it and hold it. Matthew 6 verse 34. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. This is an invitation to presence, to stop rehearsing what hasn't happened yet and receive what's here. So I want you to practice something. Notice what you can see, hear and feel right now. Feel not emotions. Feel with your like fingertips. Take a slow deep breath and let this moment be enough. And what you're practicing is being intentional with time. You're being mindful of the present moment. I encourage you to try that throughout the day to bring all those thoughts that are swimming around in your head right back to this moment. Right back. to the present moment. Reflection number two, the power of small sacred moments. Charity tells Mira moments of clarity are like fresh bread. You don't worry about yesterday or tomorrow. You just savor it. Sacred moments are often small. Birds singing, a shared smile, the first sip of coffee. Presence matters more than words and love doesn't need to be remembered to be felt. Hear it and hold it. Ecclesiastes 3 verse 1. There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens. Some seasons are simply for being there, sitting, listening, holding a hand. Those moments matter more than we realize. Number three, trusting God in the unknown. Illness, loss, and change bring uncertainty. Like Mira, we don't always know what's coming. but we can trust the one who does. God is working, even when we can't see it, like bread rising quietly in the dark. I know what you're thinking. We don't know what's coming, and I'm telling you to trust God. What I'm also saying is that we don't know what the future holds, and sometimes things go in a direction that we don't expect or we definitely don't want. But The promise is that God is with you. He has sent his son Jesus and the Holy Spirit to bring comfort to you when you're going through hardship. So there's no promises that everything's going to be rosy on the other side, but we can trust that God will carry us through dark times. Hear it and hold it. Proverbs 3 verses 5 and 6. Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Trust doesn't mean having it together. It means turning towards God even after fear shows up. When control slips through our fingers, peace often enters when we ask for help. All right, let's turn to our live it out action steps. Number one, shift your perspective. Instead of focusing on what's been lost, ask, what can I cherish today? Number two, be fully present. Put down distractions and truly engage with those around you. Listen, hold space, and love without fear of tomorrow. Number three, look for the blessing in the moment. Whether it's a smile, a laugh, or a few clear words, acknowledge the gift of now. Mira walked away from that bakery with more than just a loaf of cinnamon honey bread. She left with a reminder that today is a gift, that even in loss, Something beautiful can still be found. Maybe you're facing a similar season. Maybe you've been holding your breath, fearing what's next, mourning what's changed. But friend, don't let today slip away. Be here, start digging deeper, and trust that God is still at work. Let me pray for you. Heavenly Father, I lift up the one listening right now, the one carrying more than they let on. Life has felt heavy and change has been hard. I ask that you help them slow down, breathe and receive this moment as a gift from you. If they are grieving loss of a person, a season or relationship, remind them that you have not changed. You are their refuge and steady foundation when everything feels uncertain. Help them stay present when their heart aches for what was. Open their eyes to what is still here. When they feel helpless, remind them that you are still working. quietly, faithfully making a way ahead. Thank you for meeting them here today in this moment. In Jesus's holy name, amen. Until next time friends, may you find peace in the presence and hope on the hilltop. This is Kimberlee Herman cheering you on from Promise Hill.