My daughter tutors children in an elementary school by day, goes to grad school by night.

Tuesday night she made the dough for her favorite cookies, which must chill for 24 hours before baking.

Last night at 10 pm she returned home from class and, instead of going straight to bed as she often does on a Wednesday night, she retrieved the bowl of dough from the downstairs fridge and spent the next hour and a half shaping it into spheres the size of tennis balls, baking, cooling and packaging.

She texted a picture of the cooling cookies to the young man she’s dating.

“Any of those for me?,” he texted back.

Love.

On the counter this morning sat three packages:

A large, rectangular Rubbermaid tub full of cookies for her students – a special treat for their last day before Easter break.

A small purple box containing three cookies for the sender of the text.

And a small chinet plate, covered in foil. The two cookies beneath the foil saved for the hub and me – re-wrapped now and in the freezer until after Lent.

Three packages of cookies and all of them shaped like love.

This morning I read a beautifully written article that set my mind on Jesus’s ongoing humanity. I had never thought of the Holy Spirit living in us as Jesus’s ongoing humanity, and I like it. I like that He didn’t just come and go and will come again. He stayed. He stayed in the form of His Spirit. He stayed in the form of us.

He continues to dwell among us as He lives in us.

That thought is blowing my mind today.

Last night He was a baker, standing in my kitchen sacrificing sleep to transform dough into love for children who so readily embrace it.