spring into step

There’s certainly something special about living in the middle of no-where.  Maybe it’s the trust people place on others, or the way everyone knows everyone.  Could it be the fact when you breathe in deeply, you don’t have exhaust fumes overwhelming the nostrils but just fresh, spring air?  Maybe it’s the fact that you can walk down the middle of the street and not have to worry about being hit by a car, or maybe it’s seeing the excitement on a friend’s face trying to capture the first moment a train whizzes by on the tracks (of course in P-ville there’s about 110 of those moments).  Whatever it is, there is certainly something marvelous about living in a small town. 

I’ve come to accept the fact that I am an introvert.  I honestly, just don’t like talking.  I’d rather be quiet and listen.  I’m old.  I’m coming to accept that I’m a young person in an old person’s body.  (well, at least that is what Barbara declared this morning….I didn’t think I looked that bad.)  I want to be Miss Social Butterfly and see all my friends, but the fact is, when I’m home I just want to be home.  I need break time to be ‘me’ time.  Of course, I worked every single day this week, including today (impromptu cake decorating), so spring break didn’t really feel like spring break to me.  It just felt like a normal week at home and then crashing on the couch or the floor when I got off work….whatever I touched first. 

I had to deal with a hyper dog/and then a spiteful one (ha.), killing a squirrel, passing it on the road, and then passing it again with turkey buzzards picking at it (very traumatizing), fake proposal with a nasty-as abc gum ring suggestion (gag reflex ensued), cashiering/deli switcharoo to which I ended up making the lunch for the boys in high heels (fashionable lunch=twice nearly wiping out), accidentally assuming the stuffing was hard as bricks when in fact there was steak underneath (loud resounding NO NO NO NO from Carol as she stopped me from pounding it to pulp with the spatula), seeing a dear friend to which we exchanged boy stories (Gossip girls), slicing six pounds worth of corned beef (imagining Justine’s gag reflex), making breakfast with Jon and Jane for tea (burnt fingers), and getting up before sunrise and seeing the moon in all it’s glory (the awww moment).

I’m getting old, I have declared.  One day the wrinkles will catch up with me, and the cracking knees and hurting hips will finally fit in with the body.  I’ll look back on this moment and think, wow…. what a wonderful spring break, how could I have ever thought that was so exhausting?  Ahh the days of young life.

Of course I better be galavanting around the world when I’m looking back.  Shannon and I are praying hard so that I marry a billionaire, and can just spend the rest of my life doing volunteer work.  I would be so happy if I could do that.

I also think I should just quit school and get into cake decorating.  I love it.  I would be happy if decorating cakes all the time was to be my job.  I’d be happy baking, period. 

So now that this week is over, I’m ready for spring break.  I need a weeks worth of sleep to catch up on, a normal dog, a living squirrel, a real proposal with at least a push-pop ring,  a weeks worth of warm weather and laying outside underneath a tree with green leaves and getting to read books for fun, and building a flying contraption to instantly transport me in a millisecond to see friends in other countries.   Oh and maybe rhubarb crumble with custard and a cup of hot coffee.  No tears, and a smile that reaches from one ear to another.  Yeah..that sounds lovely.

But I will admit…this one was quite hilarious (at times),  memories were made and memories were reminisced over. 

Happy belated spring break to me.  🙂


Elijah moments

I was reading a chapter from my writing book and in it the author mentioned a scene from the Holocaust documentary Shoah.  They interviewed a Polish engineer who was in charge of one of the trains that took many people to their deaths.  “Now an old man and still operating the same train, he was asked how he felt now about his role in World War II.  He said quietly, ‘If you could lick my heart, it would poison you'” 

Tears came to my eyes as I read that passage and could envision the pain he must carry because of that role he played a part in.  I cannot even fathom how he was able to sleep at night, with all the images he must carry in his memory.  All that burden that probably rested on his shoulders. 

Those moments in life, you know,  the ones where we question, ‘Why God?’, ‘Where are you God, in all of this?’, ‘I just don’t get it’. I’m learning, as I wander through this journey called life, it’s Act 1…or the first part of the story.  At my church, Genesis, we have been covering the topic of Elijah.  The first part of the series we talked about these moments, what I have lovingly dubbed  Elijah moments, where things could possibly be going well, and then all of a sudden plans change and it doesn’t make sense anymore.  It’s in those moments where you have to be fully dependent on God, for everything.  The moments where in the midst of pain and suffering, full dependence on God is essential.        

We don’t always understand the first part to the story we are in.  We don’t always get the straight answer.

These past two weeks I’ve sat in shock in front of my laptop as I had learned about events unfolding with people that I have held so dearly to my heart.  Once again I felt the tears rolling down my face as I whispered, ‘Why God.’  I certainly do not understand what has been transpiring, and I may never understand.  Amidst the pain and the hurt, it’s these moments I’m learning to be totally dependent on God. 

The most terrible poverty is loneliness and the feeling of being unloved.
                                                                        *Mother Teresa