I was up early this morning, slicing and beautifying the key lime pie and cheesecake I had made last night for today’s service project. One doesn’t realize just how many times we pick, lick and nibble while doing this…until we can’t. It sucked.
Our church planting team {for the Alma Vineyard} volunteered to provide desserts for the alternative school up in Alma, for their family Thanksgiving meal. We had various pies, brownies, cakes of different flavors and sizes, we had cookies, we had cream puffs, we had rice pudding…we had it all. If it had exorbitant amounts of sugar in it…it was on that table. The spread was glorious. And painfully untouchable.
I knew full-well going into this 40 day stint that it fell during the most sugar-intense season of the year. And that was okay. When you feel so charged to do something, the sacrifice pales in comparison to the end result. Yes…I’m just that strong.
Until I had chocolate silk cake and creamy key lime pie remnant on my fingers {from setting up the table} and couldn’t lick them off. Suddenly my grandiose plans didn’t seem so smart. They were down-right retarded.
Hygiene issues aside, it was bad. I tasted more accidental sugar today {I had frosting and pie crust stuck under my nails} than I have in the past few days and didn’t even enjoy it. Not because they weren’t outrageously decadent…but because I felt I was cheating myself.
Oh well.
As the saying goes…”success consists of getting up just one more time than you fall”. Tomorrow is another day. Up we get.
It was fabulous watching the faces of the kids and teachers as they walked into the room…their jaws dropped and their eyes bulged as they scanned the dessert spread. “This looks like something from a magazine…it’s beautiful!”. They were tickled pink.
It was a delight spoiling these kids as for many, it’s the only Thanksgiving meal they get to enjoy this year.
The rest of the day seemed somewhat uneventful in the light of yesterday's rollercoaster ride.
I’m so aware of my heart being molded and my hope being sparked even this early in the ‘game’. Laughter has abounded in this house…and it’s exhilarating!
I have such ridiculous anticipation for these next 36 days.
I have been sweetly blessed by simple things people have said over the past two days. Yes, I’m very definitely a “words of affirmation” person {referring to ‘The 5 Love Languages’}. Something I was known for as a teenager – my inability to laugh at myself – seems to have come full circle, praise the Lord. My mom said yesterday…”you know, honey, you have a lovely ability to laugh at yourself”. What a delight to realize I’ve changed so drastically in this area. And a darling friend of mine called me today, simply to tell me how thankful she is for me and how much she appreciates our friendship. I was so blessed beyond belief.
Oh, the power of our words…I was so tanked up by those few exchanges…why don’t I take the opportunity to verbally love on and encourage the people in my life more? I need to work on this.
My hubby also happened to say, after reading my journal, how much he enjoyed my writing style…that he was having visions of us moving to a vineyard in California so I could write…and support our family. HA! I laughed out loud on that one, for sure. Gotta love the man for dreaming big. But this too meant a great deal to me as I was surrounded by incredibly good writers growing up. I, on the other hand, was not known to be one of them. In fact I clearly recall one occasion in 9th grade when I read one of my papers out loud to my dad and older sister, in an effort to get it proof-read, and they burst out laughing. I had written…”the ball was suspended on the ground…”. No matter how well they argued their point ~ that it was indeed impossible for a ball to be suspended if it was on the ground ~ I loved how it sounded and refused to change it. I have since heard this phrase a time or two {or thirty} when, over a family dinner, my sisters feel the need to remind me of my unimpressive paper-writing skills. But according to my proud hubby, my writing has developed a little since then. Good to know.
On another note…I’ve struggled a little with our living/job situation today. We saw two State Troopers, which is unusual in the city, and it’s been a painful reminder of the long 10 months my husband spent working to wear that uniform. And the long 10 months I spent as a mostly-single mother, putting my husband back together on the weekends and then sending him back out the door for another week of hell. While we’re truly thrilled for the 55 officers who have been recalled, we’re constantly wrestling with discouragement over the remaining unemployed 45.
The hardest part of the job situation is seeing how it weighs on my precious man. While I’ll never fully comprehend the burden he bears, as a man, feeling the urgent push to provide for his family, I do see the weariness in his eyes and sense the heaviness of his heart. That is the heartbreaker for me. I long to see him doing what he was born to do, what he has dreamed of since the tender age of 4. I want this so badly for him it hurts…to see him fully alive again. I realize this is a good season for us to be shaken…to find out what we’re truly made of and where our identity and value lies…but it’s still hard.
Another dimension of our current situation that weighs on my mind and heart, constantly, is my consuming passion to be in a home of our own. While I was preggy, not being able to nest was incredibly hard {Aiden is now 3 months old}. We’ve been in limbo for almost a year now and I yearn to grow some roots and make my mark on a house again. I frequently look at homes online, mentally painting the walls and unpacking our lives from the cold storage unit that has held them hostage over the past 6 months.
I frequently struggle with envy over the beautiful houses my friends have made into even more stunning homes {I have such stinking talented friends}, and yet at the same time, am so aware of the blessing of having a roof over a heads, food in our mouths, and loving family around us. It is bitter-sweet, but we truly are blessed!
So while the “house thing” is a big battle for me…it is also a great sense of delight. I dream often of the day we will get to unpack…get to rediscover what has been in boxes for almost a year {I was convinced our house would sell once Joe had been posted in Saginaw last December, so I wanted to be ready. Despite my packing like a mad woman, it didn’t sell}. I can’t wait to unpack our dishes…our sexy salt & pepper grinders we bought in South Africa. The chocolate brown pillows, still in their plastic, I bought for our “new” living room. All the girlie decor I bought for Ali’s big girl room in the new house. My winter clothes would be nice. All the things we haven’t seen for months. But the knowledge that we will, one day soon, unpack our lives excites me to no end!
While we will actually miss my fantabulous family…we crave more solitude and space. I experience the full spectrum of emotions whenever I think about Joe’s job {and the resulting change in living situations it will bring}.
Sadness. Hope. Disappointment. Excitement. Impatience. Trust. Envy. Peace.
I really do know that our God has awesome things in store for us…I just wish His timing was a little closer to how I envisioned it unfolding. But, it’s not, and I have to choose to rest in the fact that He knows best…He knows the desires of our hearts…and He loves us more than we could ever begin to fathom.
And I can live with that.
No comments:
Post a Comment