Awakened

I attribute much of my growth as person to those rude awakenings we all have in relation to one another. I vividly recall the feeling of confusion and disillusionment I experienced the day it dawned on me that my mom was not, as I had previously thought, perfect and all-knowing. That of course happened during my daunting climb into adolescence. In college, I realized that there was no such thing as a perfect roommate. I would do selfish things and they would do selfish things. Harmony wasn't destined to exist in our house without fissures. Following college, I learned that churches don't exhibit perfection in their members or in their leadership. I came to understand that I would never find the perfect church. And most recently, I have discovered for myself the truth that everyone with an opinion shares with engaged couples: marriage will not be perfect. Rude awakenings.

It would be easy to read what I've just outlined and feel a sense of depression or despair. Do I mean to say that every human relationship we have will fail us at some point? Absolutely. You see, I have this nasty little habit of pinning my hopes and dreams on people. I put expectations on myself, on the other person, and on our relationship that can't possibly be met with perfection. And when the illusion of those "met" expectations are suddenly shattered, or when I wait and wait but they are never met at all, I am ruined. I know with as great a certainty as I know anything, that God chooses to use rude awakenings in my life to point me back to the only perfection I can know on this earth - His.

Disappointments hurt. They make us angry, they frustrate us beyond belief, they leave us with a sense of hopelessness. If I can't make this or that function in the way I think it should, where is the control? How do I fix it so that it works like I want it to? That's just it. I am ultimately not in control. I can't fix another person; I can't even fix myself! So where is the hope in all of this? My hope is found in Jesus Christ. I am ashamed that sometimes it takes a catastrophic awakening to remind me where I belong, but thankfully His patience with me is far greater than my stubbornness. I belong at His feet. I cling to the Rock that is higher than I. I dig into His Word, I meditate on His immense love for me, and slowly He heals my hurt. He whispers His affection to me and wraps me in an indescribable yet almost tangible peace. When I am broken, He is whole. When someone disappoints me, His perfection is constant. When no one understands my pain, He reminds me that He bore the worst of my suffering on a cross. And it's only when I remember these things that I can learn to embrace my imperfections and those of the people I care about. It's only then that I can start to love people because of their brokenness, to love them even knowing that they will disappoint and hurt me; that I will disappoint and hurt myself. Perfection doesn't exist this side of heaven, but that doesn't mean we can't strive toward loving our world by the example Christ set for us. There's so much freedom in knowing that we can try, that sometimes we will succeed and sometimes we are destined to fail, but His love for us isn't contingent on any of that.

I need Him. You need Him. He wants us, and He will remind us by whatever means necessary. Hallelujah! You are worth it all, Lord. My heart breaks for the millions of people who don't know where to turn when their "perfection" falls apart. Help me to remember that my perfection is only You.

One Hot Frittata!

I had a friend over for brunch yesterday. She herself could be Paula Deen's progeny, so I wanted to cook something semi-challenging to impress her. Well, I found out that the old adage still rings true, folks. Pride does go before a fall.

My initial thought was to make, via youtube instruction, The Perfect Omelette. What I created turned into more of a frittata, complete with sauteed mushrooms, a blend of cheeses, and fresh tomatoes. The end result was beautiful...for the food. You see, the cooking process was humming along wonderfully until I decided to transfer the first frittata from skillet to plate. I was deliberate in my sliding on of the oven mitt to retrieve the skillet from the broiling oven. The rotund gentleman with a New Jersey lilt had reminded me of that on the video. When he warned about putting on your mitt, I scoffed. Who would be idiotic enough to grab something out of a hot oven barehanded? So I sheathed my hand, pulled the lovely concoction out of the oven, placed it on the stove, and removed the mitt to busy myself with something else on the counter. When I returned to the stove to transfer the frittata to a plate, did I reinstate the mitt? Of course not. I seized the handle of the one-minute-out-of-the-broiler skillet with my gosh darn bare hand. HOLY RICE AND BEANS.

Needless to say my friend, who arrived a few moments later, had to help me finish cooking our brunch as I nursed my scalding hand on an ice pack. Thank goodness my husband keeps a stock of those in our freezer. Almost three hours and three ice packs later, my hand started to feel somewhat normal again. It officially stopped screaming at my nervous system by mid-afternoon. All that remains a day later and an oven mitt wiser are a few deep purple, mushy bruises that I'm praying won't blister. Mr. Home Video Chef Man, I think I owe you an apology.

school's out for summer

...which means I am left gazing out over a welcoming expanse of free time and having no clue what I'm going to do with it all. Every year during the last week of school, whilst sitting at my desk proctoring final exams, I inevitably begin compiling long mental lists of the fabulous and creative things I plan to accomplish over the summer. My track record for actually bringing these ideas to fruition over the past five summers of my teaching career is about 1 of 8 ideas. One of last summer's undertakings was to create a personal blog. One measly handful of posts later we see how that went! Here are the vacation aspirations I've come up with so far for 2012. Let's check back in this August and see how I've done.

1. Actually post new blog entries. Is once a week too ambitious of me?

2. Read approximately 1200 pages of rhetorical theory in preparation to teach rhetoric to high school juniors this fall.

3. Get some concentrated vitamin D a couple of times per week.

4. Read at least four fictional books purely for pleasure. Any suggestions? The last exciting and no-brain-power reads I devoured were the three Hunger Games novels.

5. Start and successfully complete the workout DVD I purchased today: Jillian Michael's "Ripped in 30." She does look pretty intimidating! I think she'll frighten me into submission!

6. Choose the next play I'll direct at school this fall (this one's not really an option).

7. Cook some of the 256,347 scrumptious-looking meals I've pinned on Pinterest.

8. Go through all of my clothes and make an extra special trip to GCF.

What summer endeavors are you planning?