Snacks

I am aware this week how many days are snacking days, not feasting days; random moments of need or responsibility or someone elses' crisis. How much of my life is just ditsey minutes strung together by nothing more than a common date or time.

Since I'm a big fan of feasting, the snacking days can leave me feeling hngry for some significant accomplishment. Yet, as with wisdom about money, I must be true to the small as it accumulates into the large.

Rather than give into the scattered texture of time that has bits and pieces of non cohesive activities, i must remember how the overall pattern of those moments creates grand forward motion in my goals and God's dream for me.

Write blog entry-- check!
Off to the next thing.
Love,
Deborah

Peanut Butter and Jelly

Treading water in a pool for  an hour while I play audience to a six year old totally smitten with swimming and completely outfitted with flippers and goggles is exhausting

So upon returning home I wanted only a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Two of them in fact.

I use grape jelly or jam and creamy peanut butter. Sometimes I'll put a little real butter under the peanut butter. It's a lovely ooey gooey mess. I make sure it's not too full between the slices. White bread is best because it compresses when squeezed. I eat the sandwich in a circle starting with the crusts and continuing inward. I take teeny tiny mice bites. I wash it down with milk or water or some other neutral flavoured drink.

It is utterly satisfying.
There are lots of opportunities for sophisticated  moments in life, at least in the first and second Worlds.  But there are also those moments that demand simplicity, ritual and comfort.

Such was tonight. I brought a little balance to the adventure in my life right now.    Now, I'm going to bed.

Love,
Deborah

From Whence I've Come

The direction of the Spirit was clear this morning. 'Forget the past. Do not dwell on the things of old.  Behold, I do a new thing.' (Isaiah 43:19)

So what did I do? Jumped in the car and immediately drove a complete loop around every place I had lived in the last twenty years.

My disobedience notwithstanding, God rode with me and showed my heart , simultaneously, what I was leaving and how far I'd come. I sat in the presence of my former unbelief , or rather my believer's mind that had no root in my heart. I remembered when I friend asked me, almost two decades ago, ''Don't you believe God has a plan for your life?'. I searched my memory files and answered, in "'No.' In the next instant, having realized that was not the correct Jeopardy answer in the game of theological assumptions, I let my answer move from response to an item on my 'to do list': find out God' purpose for my life.

As I realized how far I've come, how far God has brought me, I realized leaving the past in the past,
letting the dead bury the dead, is letting go of nothing  more of memories that, if deleted or put in a folder would make more room for living in the present.

I'm taking a deep breath and examining  the possibility that what I'm really afraid of is not letting more God into my life. As I remember God loves me and is completely trustworthy, I can move forward more in tune with my present circumstances and God's purpose for me. The issue becomes not release, but surrender.

Somedays my baby steps embarrass me and somedays my baby steps feel like giant leaps of faith.
Love,
Deborah

Potluck

Summertime, and the All American potluck is in full swing; as sacred a meal as God ever created.
It's the event that taught me the existence of Maifun Chicken Salad and green beens with bacon.

For a meal, it's awesome. A buffet of cultural variety with each cook bringing their best. Yum... Definite happy mouth experience!

In life, not so much. I am a person who can deal with many situations at once; vastly  differing situations. I don't like to, but I'm good at it. I like things tidy and neat on a smaller scale.  Nonetheless God has dished out this life that is akin to Mr. Toad's Wild Ride at Disneyland.

So I've decided that just as I learned not to go through a potluck line scooping up a big spoon of each dish, I need to be circumspect about what I choose to respond to or who I choose to be in relationship with. Call it 'relational or event portion control'.
There. That's better. Much easier to digest and a happier experience.
Love,
Deborah

Wontons and Meatballs

I moved two weekends ago ...long story...and beyond worrying about logistics  I was concerned about not losing any food. The refrigerator wasn't all that full but I didn't want to lose what I had.

After the move I had the opportunity to chill, relax, recoup at a friend's condo. She's in rehab for a terrible injury so I had the place to myself.

Schlepping the groceries into the condo from the original house = that would eventually make their way to my transitional housing situation = I recognized the bag of frozen won tons and the bag of turkey meatballs were definitely thawed. I was, am , pushing my luck with them still being good to eat.

I'm about to get up and cook them up  when I recognize the irony of the combination. East meets west. Gratitude moment for Marco Polo blending wontons and meatballs. Worth the trek, man


We need to celebrate the reality of meatballs and won tons being common fare that millions can pick up together in the frozen food section.

We need to celebrate the original places thousands of miles apart where won tons and meatballs are being freshly made.

We need to think about increasing reconciliation and cross cultural appreciation because it's possible for an Anglo Saxon white woman in America to step to the kitchenette , pull out a fry pan andsear some  meatballs  and won tons. Now we're goin'' in the right direction.
Love Deborah

Eating Pizza

Having won a free pizza this past Wednesday, I'm still noshing on a few slices.

Here's the curious thing about my pizza habit. I eat my slices with a knife and fork until I get about an inch away from the crust. Then I pick it up with my fingers.

The world seems quite defined by who eats with fingers and who eats with utensils. Now it seems to me that is the starting point for practicing conversation and engagement.  I mean if we can begin to accept the differences with how we shovel food into our faces then we can start to find the common ground of digestion and elimination.

Once food is in our mouths, the process of our bodies using it is all the same.

Am I suggesting that an occasional reference to digestion and the ability to accept the differences in how we deliver that food to our teeth = or gums as the case may be= is the beginning of world peace?

Yasureyoubetcha! Next time the food is near your lips remind yourself what happens after it passes into mouths is all the same the whole world over.

Love,
Deborah

Beans 'n Rice

I'm moving this week. It's an odd move. I'm putting everything in storage so I can do a little self imposed sabbatical and get lots of writing done.

Most of the world would welcome my make shift accommodations . And I've loved assessing a n of my things as I pack them away. Each item has a story, a lovely story that has added to the family story. Some of them are stories the family inherited.

Downsizing is making me think about simplifying the decisions I have to make each day. Simplified decisions means more time for the creative.  So I think about making a pot of beans and rice and calling it good for eating off of during the days ahead while I focus my attention on the creation of documents that will , hopefully, be encouraging of either support or courage.

And then I realize that what I consider a simplification in my world is a staple in the rest of the world.

I count my blessings and promise myself I will think of it, consume and savor like a feast.

Love,
Deborah