Sunday, December 27, 2009

Curves in the Road

I was driving home from the reunion at the Parker's house tonight, the same way I've always driven. As I rounded the last curve over the little hill exiting Hampton Cove, I replayed moments from the night, the good time spent with friends, the last year's turn of events. I drove on autopilot (admittedly taking the curves too fast), the orange and white barrels on each side of the road barely registered in my mind. What if the friends I was attempting to match-make actually ended up together? How DOES Melissa assist with surgery and enjoy holding back internal organs while the surgeon snip, snips away? Why did I eat 3 of those yummy pumpkin cookies? And then--- a quick jolt to reality and out of autopilot--- as my car bang!thump!whammed! over rough, unfinished road-under-construction. That is when I remembered that road has been under construction since before I last came home at Thanksgiving. That is when the orange and white barrels began to register. As I struggled to regain control, slow down my petrified car and turn around, my scared and angry thoughts turned to which construction company failed to properly blockade the road and display adequate signage. To whom could I address my letter of complaint?

A little further down the detour road and a little less shaken up, I had to laugh at my own mistake. I was simply going down a familiar road thinking I knew what lay around the corner. And then I hit upon what has become something of a theme for me lately: How similar life is to a country road. When I think back over the last few years, all the times I've been coasting along down the road I think I should be travelling, when I think I know who and what lay ahead, how many times have I been detoured? Shaken up? Lost?

Who would have thought I'd be where I am today, in life, in career, in relationship? When I had my sights set for a front porch swing and life-long commitment, I ended up in the ditch with dreams dissolved, a revived spirit and renewed sense of freedom I still thank God for to this day. When I was a bit more naive and dead-set on DC, I was detained for the campaign experience of my life where I gained some valuable perspective as well as dear friends. And who would have thought that the little old couple in the back of their church would become my family away from home? Or that we'd see the death of Miss Elizabeth so tragic and so soon? If you had told me a year ago that I'd move to DC to see my first rodeo, do my first two-step, and own my first pair of cowgirl boots, I would have laughed and told you you're crazy.

But that just goes to show you, you never know what's around the next bend or just over the hill. We can coast or move along with heads in the clouds or the best-intentioned plans, but you never really know where life, or the Lord, will lead you. This gives me hope. While sometimes what's just around the bend can throw a kink in my plans 0r may even bring tragedy, I know that in the end I only have to hold out to see what's around the next curve in the road. I never really know how far or how close I am from the career-changing opportunity, some defining spiritual revelation, or, heaven forbid, the man of my dreams. And when someone bigger and better than I is directing my path, what may appear to be a bothersome detour or bump in the road might just be steering me exactly where I need to be.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Bob and Laura's Thanksgiving Dinner

One uncharacteristically-glorious November Sunday afternoon, Bob and Laura sat at Bob’s kitchen table, having a nice cup of coffee as they always did, talking about the upcoming week, as they always did.

“Bob,” said Laura, “Did you ever get a chance to make another pie?”

“No, hon,” Bob replied. “All of my pie filling was too old and I had to throw it out. But I sure would like to get some more some time. I still have that extra crust in the freezer from last week.”

(In a previous adventure, Bob and Laura had set out on a quest to make pie from canned pie filling Bob had found in the basement. Later, they realized the pie filling had been in the basement far too long, but that’s another story…)

“Say, Bob,” Laura asked, “What’s your favorite kind of pie?”

“Mmmm, I like me some coconut cream pie,” Bob replied. “And then there’s pumpkin pie, cherry pie…”

“Well then, I’m going to make you a coconut cream pie!” Laura proclaimed.

And then, inspired by visions of a coconut cream pie, it hit her. If Laura were to go to the trouble to make a coconut cream pie, it had better be good. It had better be FANTASTIC. It had better be from scratch. And one could not make a from-scratch, fantastic, coconut cream pie without all of one’s friend’s knowing about it, now could one? Otherwise it just wouldn’t be worth the trouble…

“Maybe we could just invite a few people over for coconut cream pie?” Laura thought aloud. “Bob, would you mind if we had a few people over to your house, if I make coconut cream pie?”

“Why sure hon, that’d be fine,” Bob replied, as he picked up the wooden tee brain-teaser game sitting on the table and began to play.

Laura watched him for a moment, as she took one last sip from her "We love you, Grandpa!" picture mug. She thought aloud as she walked to the coffee pot for a refill:

“Hmmm, say Bob, Thanksgiving is coming up.... and you know I won't be here because I’m going home. But I'd love to still celebrate with you... What would you say to the idea of doing a little Thanksgiving dinner here at your house?” she paused, watching his face for a reaction.

Bob lifted his head, and a plastic tee, and glanced through the thick of his glasses, "That sounds real nice honey, we can do that."

Laura continued as she poured creamer into her coffee and stirred it from a deep walnut hue to a milky chocolate:

“Let's see...my friends from work have been wanting to meet you… oh and we need to invite Pastor Steve and his family to show them our appreciation for all they do. Hmmm," she paused to take another sip of we can’t forget about the Maxwells--- you remember they said they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving with family?” Laura paused, studying the yellow-flowered wallpaper that had yet to lose its grip after 20 years of use. “Why don’t we do Thanksgiving for all the people we love and want to show we care, and maybe some of the ones who don’t get to have a large family meal?”

“Why that’d be fine, hon,” Bob smiled. “Let’s see we need to invite Johnny and Carol..."

As she sat back down at the table, Laura set down her coffee, and reaching for a nearby pen and the back of discarded envelope, began to scribble profusely.

"Put Harvey and Joyce down. I’d like to have Harvey and Joyce---”

“---Oh! I know, what about Paul? And the Lilly’s?” Laura chattered, excitedly now.

“What about Jeff and Faye? Don't forget Ahmed is by himself these days, we better have him over, too. Sweetheart, how many people is that?” Bob queried.

“Hmmm, let’s see--- six, ten…er, oh and I almost forgot--- …” Laura continued to tally the list, as she glanced nervously across the table at Bob. “Ew, let’s see, it looks like we’re up to…18?”

“Well that’s ok, hon, we’ve had a whole houseful before, we’ve got plenty of room. And we’ve got the downstairs too,” Bob offered, staring down the last 4 tees left on the wooden triangle.

“Well, in that case,” as she struck out names on the list, “Let’s just invite the whole church…”

“That’s fine, hon. Sounds good to me,” Bob laughed, then, under his breath, as he left the two remaining pegs on the board,“Looks like I’m purty smart.”

“Ok, well let’s think about what we want on the menu,” Laura said, as she began scribbling another list on the page. “What do we want to serve?”

Without hesitating to look up, he began to list: “Coconut cream pie, pumpkin pie...”

“Ha ha, but of course. Do you prefer ham or turkey?”

Bob took a moment to adjust his "Don't forget my Senior discount" cap: “---Let’s do ham.”

“Oooh, and green bean casserole?”

“Yah, yah. We can get some of those little onion things to go on the top. And I’ve got a bunch of potatoes in a bag downstairs we can use.”

“Nice, ok mashed potatoes.... mmm, oh and fruit salad; this is simple enough. Yeah, we can do this Bob. This will be a good meal,” Laura assessed. Then cautiously, “Wait, have you ever cooked a ham before?”

“No, but it shouldn't be no problem. And we’ll go shopping on Saturday and get everything ready, if you can come up?” Bob tested.

“Of course. Yes, of course we can do this. It will be fine.” Laura said, reassuring herself as much as Bob. “This is perfect. I cannot wait! Bob, don’t you think this sounds like a good meal?”

Laura pushed the menu toward him as he peered through his bi-focals.

“Mmmph, it’ll make your hair grow,” Bob grinned.

And that, dear friends, is how a simple Sunday visit turned into a Thanksgiving feast for fifty.

Dinner’s at 6. Ya’ll come.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

It's all personal

Time for some emotional honesty. Ah, my favorite topic...

I believe we all tend to swing back and forth along the pendulum of personal risk at various times in life. I know I have spent weeks, even months, in a state of paralyzing self-defeat, only to wake up one day and realize I have lost all self-respect and motivation. To realize I am frozen in fear. At those times, I have to rally, so to speak. I dig deep within, seek counsel and encouragement from my closest confidants, and scour scripture to 'swing' myself mentally back to the point where I am free, to where I can once again take a leap of faith. Too often it takes me getting to that miserable, stagnant state to be able to move. The risk of putting myself in a vulnerable position outweighs the alternative of becoming a weak-minded individual, not merely influenced by, but living in, fear. There's a wise philosopher who once said "That that don't kill me, can only make me stronger" - or wait, was that Kanye? I have learned this lesson many times, and I know all the right answers to the questions; yet too often I forget, and allow myself to swing back into a state of "safety," of doubt, of fear. Too many times I'm sidetracked, stopped in my tracks by the Goliath of a self-defeating attitude. Sometimes, I even internalize others' doubts and fears and failures, so that I live under fear.

It's easier for me to examine my life in terms of risks when I look at my (somewhat scattered) career path. I've been blessed with some amazing opportunities, but I've struggled, I've fought, and I've had stake my claim each step along the way. Not that my path has been all that impressive, and not to say I have arrived, but baby, I've come a long way. I've tried new things, I've moved cross-country, and I've started all over again from scratch. All this with providential help and guidance, when I've had the sense to look and listen.

When I look at my personal life (and yes the two intertwine) --- well, that's a little harder to analyze. My journey has been equally challenging, the pendulum swinging back and forth just as often. As I'm swinging back toward risk in looking for my next step on the career path, I realize: I cannot truly be free until I'm open to others, in friendships and every type of relationship. The same kind of security I must draw from Christ and my community to take risks pertaining to my career, I must also take in my friendships and every type of relationship. I cannot allow hurt, anger, pride, or worst of all, fear to trap me, to stifle, to defeat me.

There have been times I feel my own God-given sense of survival surging up within me to object to complacency as my conscience calls me out. At times I've felt the supernatural- that's right I said it- hand of God himself lifting me out of my own mess, or at least to a place where I can deal with it with a clear head. I can't take the credit. Regardless of whatever area of life I need to step forward in, I know that the bottom line is this: God has given me the resources to be victorious. He didn't say "I've come to give you life, so that you can get by" - NO! He says "I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." Living abundantly doesn't leave me room to live in fear. It doesn't allow me to shrink back from every obstacle because of unsurety. It doesn't mean keeping others' at a distance because people might hurt me.

Sometimes I will fall flat on my face, but hey, I've already been there, right? I may face personal rejection, but eh, my skin could stand to be a little thicker. Those whose approval I really care to have will cheer my successes and respect my attempts even in defeat. The rest don't matter. At the end of the day, if I can stand before my mirror and before Christ and say, "I gave it all I have, and I lived more abundantly," I'll be satisfied. And I think He will be as well. The rest don't really matter.