Savor

Savor: taste (food or drink) and enjoy it completely; enjoy or appreciate (something pleasant) completely.

~Synonyms: relish, enjoy (to the full), appreciate, delight in, revel in, luxuriate in, bask in

I am enamored with this word and for all it means. In terms of food, not many have this down. To truly savor something, there is a strategy. One must eat slow, enjoying each and every little bite. Savoring involves the smell, the look, the feel, and the atmosphere. One cannot simply make eating food a matter of the taste buds. Every little aspect counts, for, a good cookie is not as good in front of a television at midnight as it is right out of the oven, next to your mother who took time and care to make it with you. The food needs good company. No one should savor alone. One must focus on only the piece of art that they are eating when they are eating. The food must be pretty. As I learned in What's 4 Dessert, presentation is everything. Take a lesson from little kids,  any food that is not beautiful is not worth eating. If the texture or smell is not perfect, the consumption will not be savored. Finally, the food needs good company. If anything throws off the experience, why eat it? Why even waste the calories?

Before you think I am food critic, I will tell you that I am more of a life critic. Isn't that what we writers are anywho? I am not so much interested in savoring my chocolate chip cookie as I am in savoring my life. Although, savoring a chocolate chip cookie right now would probably be a very good idea.

There is also a strategy to savoring life. I want to savor every morsel, every bite. I want to make it beautiful and worthwhile.  I don't want to waste time with diverted focus. I want to be fully present in every single moment of my life. The details count- the smells, the textures, the atmosphere, the company, the presentation. 

I wonder, how much of my life am I truly savoring? How much am I living each moment? Enjoying it, appreciating it to the full?

Have you ever seen someone who does this? They don't waste time with the food that isn't worth it. They don't eat the food that isn't the best for their life. That is to say, they do not worry about the things that don't matter. They purge their lives of the cares which cages the world in such obsession. Their lives are void of absent minded meals. Instead, they live every day, enjoying every moment to the full, with good company and with beauty.  

Abundant- existing or available in large quantities, plentiful; extreme

~Synonyms: rich, lavish, abounding, bountiful, overflowing, prolific

In return for savor, one receives abundance. 

Savoring life means living life abundantly. The two go hand in hand. 

Please, do not miss your life. Do not forget to savor. Focus on the eternal- what matters.  Close your eyes and smell the aroma. Open them and behold its beauty. Bite slow, chew on every morsel, swallow with care. Share it with others. Do not savor alone. 

And finally, live life abundantly.

Onions

I just finished a book that tastes like onions, long after the last page is turned.

I am vexed.

The book's premise was based on the idea that because someone is in love, they can be as obnoxiously selfish as they want to be. Love explains and excuses every action. Love is the quintessential band-aid for all evils. Love yada yada. After reading this book, if this is what love is, I simply don't want anything to do with it. 

Onions also make people cry. Doesn't anyone feel their stinging eyes?

This is reality people. We live in world that believes this. I can leave my husband if I fall in love with another man. I can sign the divorce papers and force my kids to watch their world fall apart. I can ignore my friends and family to be with the person that sucks up my existence. I can have sex with a guy when I'm 14 and have his baby with no money or maturity to support because we are "in love." I can abuse, steal, kill, defile- I AM IN LOVE. I mean, no one can help their feelings, right?

Is this love? Or onions?

New York Times Bestsellers List- you failed.

I need to go brush my teeth. If I am to find true love today, I refuse to find it with onion breath.

A Greater Love- A Journey of Pink Tricycles and Gum Balls

When I was little I used to think that Pink was the ultimate door to perfection. Anything pink made me a princess. Pink could send you to the moon. Pink made things look, smell, feel, sound, and taste better. The color pink gave or elevated any object's worth. Pink was my childhood juju.

For instance, I always wanted the pink gum ball at the machines. I would waste quarter after quarter trying to get the pink gum ball. I was convinced the other colors did not taste nearly as delicious. I devised different rituals to ensure I would get the pink one. I would spin around in circles, jump up and down 2.5 times, stomp 4 times, and kiss the quarter for a perfect delivery. (Okay, maybe not quite that exotic but you get the idea). Unfortunately, most times I didn't get the pink gum ball. Usually I got stuck with the other dopey colors. It is a traumatic experience, let me tell you. 

Of course then there was safety town- abounding with Smokey the Bear, stickers, and a fake town that you ride around in a rainbow array of tricycles. Everything was going great until they let us loose on the tricycles. I soon realized on the first day that there was only ONE pink tricycle. ONE!!!! Are they crazy?? What are they thinking? Everyday of safety town my new mission was to get that pink tricycle. Okay this is where the obsession bit comes in, but I prefer to look at it as driven. I don't think I actually learned anything in safety town because I spent the whole day devising ways to win the pink tricycle. I was convinced nothing would stop me.  I RAN every day, saddle shoes to the pavement, shoving other kids nonchalantly on the way, to achieve my mission. Day after day, my mission failed. At least my pink fantasies, Mr. Tricycle and Mr. Gum Ball, could be friends in their continued defeat. 

In my nineteen year old life, I have come across many different colored gum balls and tricycles in search for the pink one. I mean, in a more literal sense, I have searched for the best thing, the right thing, the pink tricycle or gum ball so to speak. 

In recent weeks, I have realized the rules have changed. They are even more complicated. Many times, I have thought I arrived at the pink in victory, only to realize that the pink wasn't real. Gum balls and tricycles decked out in camouflage to get me to next step in my journey for the real pink.

It is disappointing, you know? It hurts to separate from that which I have come to love. It is painful to break off another relationship that I thought might be IT. It pangs me to leave a church that I came to love so much. It aches to withdraw so suddenly from the closest people to me. Maybe it stings more to separate from the idea that I finally found the pink. 

God has taught me that he doesn't want us to find the pink right away. We need to learn from the other colors he puts into our lives. He wants us to live by faith that he will get us there. When God separates us from something we come to love, it isn't because he doesn't love us. He just knows that what we love isn't really pink, even though our own eyes deceive us. We spit out our gum and step away from our tricycle.

I am a little girl, waiting at the gum ball machine, running toward the tricycles at safety town. I can feel my hand in my Daddy's hand, waiting and running, together. I imagine after quite a bit of blues and greens and yellows and reds and oranges, I finally get to ride the Pink Tricycle. There will be a Pink Gum Ball in the basket. 

 

 

After a long, painful absence, Only Questions

Questions I have been asking as of late:

What is the church?

Since when did it become a black widow and decide to eat its own?

If it can't take care of its own people, then how the hell is it going to reach out to other people in the world? How can it take care of all the other crap?

How does God manage to take such a tormenting situation and turn it into a refreshing one?

Why do my glasses always have spots on the lenses?

Do I eat too much chocolate?

When was the last time I really thanked God for everything he has done? 

Am I going to pull a B in Politics Class? Do I care?

How am I going to survive a month without Stephanie Taylor?

Should I get people anything for Christmas this year? Would I be contributing to the Consumerism that dehydrates our society? 

Is it possible for a 19 year old to write a smashing book full of everything she needs to say? 

Have I become too cynical? Do I sound like an old bitter woman with her lips pursed too tight?

Why do I even wonder at these things when next door, someone is probably wondering things like, "Where is my next meal coming from?" and "I wonder if anyone loves me?" 

Answers:

According to Mrs. Smith, my Junior High History Teacher, the answer is always 2. 

According to Paul, my attitude should be like Christ and become a servant. He also advised that I should rejoice no matter the circumstances.

According to the ceiling tiles I am staring at, well, nothing. They are rather indignant in their silence. 

There is no more time to wallow or to question. I have no more time to wonder at the things I cannot control. Only time to act. 

It is the end of this day and my body will surrender to the flowered sheets. Yet I hope for tomorrow. I pray for a will empowered by the Spirit to leave behind all unanswered questions. I suppose I do not need them answered anyway. At least not in one sitting. Or maybe not all in one lifetime. I am convinced the only essential is a God who knows all of those answers already, and now is the ultimate time to strip down to the essentials. 

To Do? Life!

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat (insert healthier foods). Smile. Brush teeth. Apply for Grad School. Write book. Sleep. Stop eating. Better tomorrow.

Stop. 

Study. Workout. Call (insert name). Write (insert name). Eat...don't eat. Write book. Grad school? Whiten teeth. Ministry Team. (insert org) Meeting. 

Stop. 

Recycle, Recycle thoughts, recycle onto yet another doomed piece of paper. Monotony. Check Check Check. Cross Cross Cross. Sleep. Repeat.  

Stop. 

My life is a great monument of post-it notes. Pile them up in an enticing, technicolor sculpture. Let them stick, stick, stick. Indefinitely. Immobilizing. Paralyzing. Don't let one fall! They are arranged perfectly, a rainbow of neon accomplishments. DON'T TOUCH! Burry me as the silent, unmoving post-it note statue that still has more to do.

STOP NOW!

I don't wanna die! I haven't yet lived! I reach through and painfully rip off one from my eyes. I can still see that there is a light out there. I tear yet another from my mouth. Is that real air I am breathing? 

A To Do list is not a map to fulfillment. Treasure is not located at the bottom of it. The check-marks do not gain you more points towards understanding, success, perfection. The day-planner does not contain freedom. The palm-pilot does not provide the path to happiness.  

The post-its cages me in. The To-Do List equally thrills and kills me. I need to feel in control of my life. Organized. Successful. Yet I lose focus when I am enslaved to a 3x3 inch neon colored piece of paper. Since when did I stop controlling it? Since when did it start controlling me?

My miniature idols lose their glory as I realize: God measures us by who we are, not by what we do. Conversely, we do not find fulfillment in what we do, but by who God makes us to be. God wants our holiness more than our happiness. Conversely, holiness reshapes the very essence of happiness. 

I want to be present in my life. I want God to make me holy. How in the world is he going to do that if I am living vicariously through my post-notes?

Do not worry about tomorrow for tomorrow will worry about itself. 

What is on my To Do list now? 

1. Throw away my post-it notes.
2. Live. 

The Gospel According to Lorenzo

For those of you who don't know, my car's name is Lorenzo. (Why you say? Well if you need a reason, it is foreign and nifty. I prefer you just accept the fact that I name inanimate objects.)

In the two and a half years that I have owned Lorenzo, he has had many a thing go awry. To be specific- the alternator, the transmission, the oil pan and gasket, the battery, the radio and all the buttons to go along, the brakes, etc. In short, you name it and Lorenzo has a new one. 

Now I don't know much about cars but I usually know something is wrong when my car stops working on a country road at one o'clock in the morning. (Problem #1 and revised version of problem #2) Sometimes I catch the problem while I'm still in denial of the problem happening. Every visit to the mechanic is pretty much the same. "Hey Tarry, I need an oil change. Oh and by the way, can you maybe poke around in there a bit?" "Why is something wrong?" "Oh not much, it just takes five minutes to start and makes a sound that makes me think that Jesus must be coming back, but all cars do that right?" Tarry looks at me with a blank stare with the occasional blink. Yeah, Tarry and I have great communication like that. (Problem #3-15)

Every time I have the exact same thought pattern throughout the whole process. It usually happen in this order. 

1. I think maybe I should get that checked out. No big. Just a checkup.

2. Dang it. I don't think that Tarry's look is very promising.

3. ARE YOU SERIOUS????? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????

4. Oh shoot-that is a dang lot of money. My parents are not going to be happy. I hope they help me pay for this.

5. That's it. I'm just going to have to become a superhero and fly everywhere instead. It not only saves money, but it is good for the environment and I hear that guys really dig the challenge of getting a girl who can fly. 

Yet my parents always end up being so great about the whole ordeal. Thank goodness Lorenzo is once again all fixed and rarin' to go.

I can't help but wonder at the whole application of this process to our spiritual lives. (Disclaimer: I realize that the process of fixing a car and fixing a person is not even close to the same thing, but there are some parallels. Usually boys like to compare cars to important things, and this is the one exception where I will follow suit.)

Like Lorenzo, I wonder at how many times and how many places we need help as human beings. God's reaction is the always willing and ready mechanic. He understands when we tell him that we have a problem, even if we do not completely understand the terms to tell him. He understands our simple language. When we tell him that we are having trouble starting, he knows that our battery is almost dead. He sees the details of the charges, the smallest electrons taking a vacation, the lack of connection that makes everything else run in perfect harmony. When we say that something is leaking, he knows the exact place our oil pan gasket has rusted over to the point of weathering away a hole in the pan. 

Tarry explained to me the depths of the problems with my poor Lorenzo. Denial at that point was long gone as I took in the reality of the seriousness of the problems that I had just come to understand. In my life, there are days when I come to understand just how deep the problems of the world reach. Sin is so real.  We are rusty and we are failing to start and we are leaking and we are broken and we are disconnected. 

I can't help but think of how he reacts when we come to him with our problems. I'm so thankful he doesn't react like I do-"ARE YOU SERIOUS???? SOMETHING IS THAT WRONG AGAIN????" In fact, his reaction is more akin to that of my parents. He understands that something is seriously wrong, he looks at the price of the repairs, and he pays cash out of pocket to fix it, no matter the price. 

Why? Well...Grace. Love. That's why. 

In some corky way, I am reminded of God's grace by my car. I thank God for another reminder. I am always in need of a reality check. GOD GAVE HIS SON FOR MY SINS! He payed the ultimate price to fix me. Understanding the depths of my need for repair, my failure to function, and all of my rust-filled parts, I come to a better understanding of just how amazing God's grace is. There is no good reason why he saved me. No good reason why he paid the price. 

So now I am Lorenzo. I am repaired and running well. God is driving me where he wills me to go and I have never been quite so alive. 

Yay for Election Day!!

I voted today for the first time ever in the General Election. Yay for being an American Citizen. 

First Pic: After the big vote. Notice the kick a** sticker. Also...notice the perfectly placed American Flag in the background and my pumpkin spice latte (thanks Dad). Ironically, I am actually supposed to be studying for a Politics Test in that picture.

Second Pic: My BFF Stephalumps and I with the nominees. Disclaimer: the direction of the kiss is not necessarily an indication of who we voted for. ;) I would like to take this opportunity to thank the Cedarville Photography Club for supplying this grand photo. This one will go down in blogger history.

Did you vote? GO DO IT!!!!