A Very Hard Thing

I had a really good thought today. This afternoon, I was in that dangerous place of succumbing to what I believe Joy the Baker calls the Sunday Afternoon Blues-that spot of feeling down because the weekend is ending, the work week is looming, and there’s just so much to do that another TV marathon seems the only option. So I pulled out my pumpkin coffeecake recipe and got to work. I pulled out my coconut oil, my rice flour, my local honey. I put my coffee grinder to good use-ground flax seeds mixed with warm water make a wonderful egg substitute. In the middle of melting oil and mixing dry ingredients, I realized that I was doing it. I was doing A Very Hard Thing without even thinking about it.

Let me back up a little.

Back in July, my results for food allergy testing came in, and I was diagnosed with dairy, egg, and wheat allergies, as well as bananas and pineapples. For this girl who loves food, who heartily believes baking is a perfect joy in this world, the news was heart-wrenching. While nice to finally have an answer to some health issues I’ve had, this sort of answer wsasn’t exactly welcomed. It came over me in stages what having such allergies meant, and I found myself saying goodbye to favorite foods: butter, milk, omelets, baked goods, Nutella, cheese, sour cream, cream cheese, alfredo sauce, half and half, etc. I went through a kind of mourning, actually. But I mustered up the courage to research what to eat, new meals, new ways of eating, and working at making these new foods delicious.

Back to the present.

This afternoon, I was going about my daily life and indulging in one of my all-time favorite things: baking. I didn’t stop to think about what I’d lost in not being able to use “real” flour, “real” butter. It felt so good to realize that this new way of doing things, of doing life, is my new normal. It feels normal and easy to reach for once-foreign ingredients like coconut oil and rice flour. It’s such a sigh of relief to be satisfied with how these new ingredients taste. My very taste buds have changed. This feels really good. Four months ago, baking with these ingredients would have been daunting, even emotional. But today, this Once Very Hard Thing turned out to not be so hard after all.

Apparently, it can take the body months to heal from years of food allergies. I can’t say that all the changes have made life perfect or my body completely happy. But today’s realization was a major triumph and a huge step in the right direction. In seeing that one of my favorite things can still be enjoyed, just in a different way, and with a lot more coconut oil.

Psalm

Day of aches means day of rest.
Self-imposed Sabbath, unavoidable inaction.
Movement becomes awkward, hard.
Hands-dull ache. Feet-tense and curled.
And all else in between reminds me
I am but dust. A broken temple.
A sacred moving hospital.

To really feel is to slow down
And care for this earthly shell.
Even with water, sleep, food
And advice from doctors
I still ache.
And when I can only sit in the sun,
Instead of hike and run and play,

I close my eyes in blinding light
And give thanks.

Give thanks for this broken jar of clay.
For Christ alone can console and redeem
And give hope in the midst of pain and inactivity.
He always remembers I am at once both
Only dust and made in His image.

One day, all will be well and restored-

Life and movement and energy will surge and bound.

For now, I rejoice in these struggles and bless

Him who gives real health, real healing,

And newness of life each day and every night.

Self Portrait

I happen to be a beautiful space cadet.

Head in clouds, feet on busy ground.

I am a wonky princess, a gorgeous human being,

A tragic masterpiece, a mighty force, a weak heroine.

This form is a bastion of untried potential.

An unspoken sermon, a quiet storm.

Work of progress, fearless bumbler, the queen of all this.

Faithful mess, a jester of all things me.

Redeeming the Ridiculous

Love me tender, love me sweet, never let me go.
-Elvis

It is as healthy to enjoy sentiment as to enjoy jam.
-GK Chesterton

I have a certain love for the ridiculous. There is a special place in my heart for b-movies and sappy songs. I can’t get enough action movies, 80s TV shows, and tidy British murder mysteries. I will happily watch gooey alien movies, predictable musicals, and sweaty-palmed thrillers. And when it comes to music, my favorite singers are usually unapologetic crooners and seemingly over-the-top feelers, including Chris Isaak, She & Him, Brandi Carlile, Patsy Cline, Elvis, and Roy Orbison. The ridiculous can be a marvelous way to break through our modern cynicism and embrace the wonderful, silly, and even heartbreaking things in our lives.

For instance, I love most genres of film, and there are so many reasons for loving each. You have to read each genre differently. The reason I love b-movies, for example, is that they are remarkably like real life. In a b-movie, the script is usually flat, never delivered pitch-perfect, the casting feels off, and the props probably came from Goodwill. And how much like everyday life does that feel like? How many times do I feel like I messed up all my lines with friends and family? I wince all the time at my delivery. I playback scenes in my head and laugh at myself. I look in the mirror and see the opposite of an A-lister. B-movies are worth watching because they remind us that life is not perfect, that you can’t take it too seriously, that you have to laugh at the ridiculous that happens all the time. They also remind us that even though our artistic visions or life goals may not always be realized, it’s still worth it to create, to try, to give something to the world. I think that’s really wonderful.

Jesus’ life on earth was actually full of strange plot points, crazy cast members, and unlikely settings, too. He should have come to earth like a celebrity, shrouded in mystery and glamour and totally un-relatable to the everyday person. Yet Jesus was born to poor parents in a scandalous situation, worked long days as a laborer most of his earthly life, and had the most contrasting company of friends ever described. He should have shown his power to everyone, yet chose to live a common life, and He was no stranger to the sorrows of humankind. I would say He was no stranger to the joys of humankind either. He must have taken great joy in having His first miracle be at a wedding celebration. He loved community and friendship; He even said to His disciples, “I no longer call you servants but friends.” What a thing for the King of the universe to say. This could be an unbelievable story, if it were not for the presence of the ridiculous, the miracles in our own lives.

I love expressive, emotional songs, too. During a very dark time in my life a few years ago, I would lay on the floor in my little studio apartment and listen to Patsy Cline and Pat Green over and over again. I had become icy and hard, staring without seeing. These songs taught me to feel again. Patsy’s crooning reminded me that it was okay to feel whatever I was feeling. Sappy songs show us that feeling is normal, and that feeling makes us human. Feeling is not everything, but we must know what we feel to make sense of our lives. To feel is to know ourselves, to begin moving in a right direction. Emotional songs remind me a little of David’s Psalms, which are packed with feeling and emotion and questioning and sorrow. David, though, always ends on a note of determined hope, of a settled center in God’s faithfulness, no matter the circumstances. I really love that. To feel what we feel and always return to the God who is bigger than our fears, our regrets, our disappointments. Return to the God who can and who will redeem all things. Return to the God who feels. The God who wept over his dead friend, the God who was touched with compassion for the demanding crowds who followed him, the God who freely forgave His enemies.

I want to practice looking for the things that make me laugh and embrace my life as it is, the things that help me feel my way through this world, whatever they might be. The Apostle Paul says that God chose what is foolish to shame the wise, what is weak to shame the strong. I love that.

The Art of Graciousness

We got to learn to love.
-Third Day

Let your speech always be gracious.
-The Apostle Paul, in his Letter to the Colossians


I’m a girl. I have opinions. Let’s face it, I have a lot of opinions. On.Freaking.Everything. On myself, on the world, and everything and everyone in between. As a girl, I also have a lot of moods that strike at any time, without warning. I also have urgent needs for cookies and quiet and organization. Friendships and relationships are everything to me. I am eternally processing my life to people or a flat piece of paper. I feel the need to express all of these things at all times, to tell everyone my feelings on all my favorite and non-favorite things, and for you to really stop and LISTEN to me. Maybe this sounds familiar.

I’ve noticed, and maybe you have too, that a gracious woman is a truly noteworthy one. It seems to me, and I realize this is horribly general, but women as a group are not always known for their graciousness. Sometimes women can be hormonal, conniving, dramatic, and generally ill-disposed, and I find myself guilty of all the above at different times. I decided a couple years ago that I wanted to be a gracious woman. A gentle one. An inviting and hospitable female. And promptly fell flat on my face. It so happens that as soon as one makes an inward resolution to be more awesome, the world asks if you’re really sure about that, and sends you frustrations, awkward situations, and downright hard crap to deal with. Let it be known I brought loads of this on myself. Some of it was free. Anyway, I find myself now in a much better position to reevaluate this desire of mine.

I still want to be a gracious and awesome woman. There are quite a few wonderful examples in my life to look up to, as far as inspiration. They come to me in forms of co-workers, relatives, friends, acquaintances, and even authors. They have been women of faith. Some of them only go to church on Christmas. But they all have certain characteristics in common.

For starters, The Gracious Woman really.just.lets.others.be. She allows people to just be who they are. She doesn’t expect you to give what you don’t have. She also gives to you and doesn’t need anything in return. How cool is that?! And how often do I do the exact opposite of that? Don’t answer that. Gracious women understand human nature, really. They get it. They get that people mess up, that they are going to fail you, that accidents happen, and that favorite wedding presents are going to break. And she still wants to hang out with you. She still thinks you are a lovely human being. The Gracious Woman also inspires you to be better. Without imposing rules or threatening to withhold, her very existence makes you aware of how you could do things differently, do them better, be a pretty cool individual yourself. I love this artful balance-letting you be you and helping you be better. This is truly one of the Christlike aspects of graciousness, I think.

Allowing everyone else to be themselves doesn’t steal anything from The Gracious Woman, though. No sirree. She knows who she is. She knows what she needs. She knows what she can give. She sticks to her boundaries. I really love this part. This part makes the above part possible. The Gracious Woman is-gasp-NICE TO HERSELF, too! She doesn’t expect crazy things from herself. She probably eats fruits and vegetables on a regular basis, exercises sometimes, and thinks about going organic. She makes an effort to not beat up on her body, even though everyone’s doing it. She realizes that we’re all in changing seasons, and we all need different things at different times. But she doesn’t freak out when she fails at some of these things. Pretty awesome way to see the world. I think she also struggles with depression and sadness sometimes. She’s real, and sometimes things really, really, really, suck. She knows this and allows time to mourn and grieve, knowing that hope is just as present.

I’m verging into Proverbs 31 Woman territory now, but bear with me. These women allow their mindset toward themselves and others to flow into their homes. I’ve been in homes that are incredibly peaceful and hospitable, where I feel I can just be. The hostess let her house be a conduit for true hospitality. These homes may not always be the most clean or organized or magazine-perfect, but they are full of welcoming presence. Gracious women invite you in, you know? They want you to know that you belong, if you want to. But no pressure. It comes full circle with the whole letting you be you quality. Their homes reflect that. It’s really a beautiful thing. I love those homes and seek to make my own that way, too. I want others to love coming over. To say that Sarah’s house is always warm and welcoming, and full of freshly baked brownies and pots of steaming soup and mugs full of hot tea, even if there’s paper everywhere. To say that they felt like themselves at my house. That is such a precious goal of mine.

Another amazing characteristic of gracious women is that they don’t always say what they’re thinking. This is a big one. Women like to talk. I always want to tell you whatever I’m thinking RIGHT NOW. But…it’s not always a good idea. A lot of the cool women I know…well, I don’t know always know what they’re thinking. They don’t over-share. They are cool with themselves enough not to seek validation from every person they meet. I am learning this one. Always. These women have opinions to be sure, but they don’t feel the need to always share. They’re probably right, and we should all listen when they do share, but sometimes we’re just left in curiosity. They don’t gossip, either, which is definitely counter-intuitive. They usually have something good to say about everyone. I really like that, too. They know how to express frustrations and good things appropriately and with the right people at the right time. I’ve come a long way in this, but there’s always more to learn.

These are a lot of really shockingly wonderful qualities that seem impossible to attain sometimes. I’m not overwhelmed, though. Becoming a gracious woman, learning to love people no matter where they’re at, being cool with myself, letting others in, and controlling my big mouth is such a process. As one of my favorite authors, Brother Lawrence, says, you can’t become holy all at once. These women that I know  have been becoming themselves forever. They weren’t built all at once. They’ve chosen graciousness when bitterness and hardness would have been so much easier. They learned the hard way to let others be. They’ve messed up a lot in all these things, but they keep going. They keep choosing compassion and love for themselves and others, even when it doesn’t make sense. They have learned over time to be gracious. I am so inspired by that. It gives me hope that I can be gracious, too. That I can choose gentleness and joy, to learn to love the hard things. That I can invite people over even when my house is a mess. That I don’t have to share the latest gossip. These are pretty cool things to be excited and hopeful about, in a world that encourages women to be the opposite of these qualities. Let’s do some hard things!

Run

Let the waters run down the mountains!
Let the downpour overflow the dry lands!
Raise your hands and watch
Watch the rain flow like floods of silk

Let the rain renew your dry hands, your tired feet
Feel the water run over your head
Feel the dirt and ashes wash away
Dance and splash and laugh

Run to meet the rain!
The floods sweep away the old
Bringing the new for you
Rise up to meet new life, rain upon rain