back to adventures

The month of this experiment with fasting is complete as the month ends. I will be back to regular life. All spiritual conclusions are not ripe to be revealed. I'll write more as I see more come to fruition. My major human conclusion is that I'm tired of eating alone. So I just stopped doing it. I'm pretty sure a lot of other people do this as a normal course of life.

I have not become a saint. Instead, I still long for everything earthy and solid. Heard a sermon today about setting your mind on thing above instead of earthly things. But I just want to know God's companionship as I walk along right down here.

Birdie Understands

I was overreacting a tad yesterday about the anchors. My friend Birdie understands me, and offered the following:
"...here is some guidance... I just pray for the Lord to bring some man along who could do it for me or better yet, TEACH me how... teach a man to fish ... " Okay Jesus, please bring someone who loves power tools, intimidates mechanics, and has a great sense of direction-- even better if they're good with investments and enjoy filing taxes.

I get mad when I have to do man jobs-- fix things, make car decisions, pick up things that are too heavy. Do men get this flustered when they have to sew on a button, choose throw pillows, or plan a menu?

My pastor surprised me today. Usually his sermons make me sad because they're about how it's not about us and our desires, but it's all about God's plan. Today he said that we try to fill our own wells with supplying what we think will fill us up. But those wells crack and dry up. So God lures us into the desert to speak tenderly to us in the places we have lowered our expectations. I am weary of filling up this well by the spoonful or scant cup of what I can acquire. Hoping I can hope again for God to hit the vein of water that rises effortlessly.

Julie

In Julie & Julia, the girl who is trying to learn from Julia talks about the great comfort in recipes. That when everything else is out of control, she knews if she follows a recipe precisely she'll produce something perfect. Today I can relate.

I attempted using a power drill for the first time in my life. This I can do. I kept drilling larger and larger holes for the anchors I'm supposed to use in these ancient plaster walls. Problem is that I can't get the anchors to work. They bend when I try to hammer them. I currently have a large pile of tools on the floor that I'm inept at using and no pictures hung. I believe I could bribe Greg to do the task for me with a perfect recipe.

My little brother is in love with an interior designer who graduated from Cornell. He's moving into a house he's renting from an ambassador. I am cutting my hand while trying to make crostini. Hoping to produce some tiny bit of perfection for book club to make me feel like I am capable. Is there a troop of adult girl scouts where I can earn a badge for this and learn how to using these f-ing, flimsy anchors? Pioneer Girls only provided craft lessons.

What I Need to Know About Being an Acorn

Susan and Tara have both sent me acorn quotes this week. I love how acorn knowledge has fallen into my lap. My talisman. My totem. Do you have one? I remember before my old roommate got engaged that she was looking for signs that the marriage would be blessed by God. She asked God to show her mushrooms in the middle of winter. And He did several times out of the blue. Most girls would pick a rose or a bird as a sign. But I think your totem has to come upon you instead of letting you find it.

The classic, again Great oaks from little acorns grow. -old English proverb

Think of the fierce energy concentrated in an acorn! You bury it in the ground, and it explodes into an oak tree! Bury a sheep and nothing happens but decay. -George Bernard Shaw

To be an acorn is to have a taste for being an oak tree.- Thomas Merton

The oak sleeps in the acorn, the bird waits in the egg, and in the highest vision of the soul a waking angel stirs. Dreams take are the seedlings of realities. -James Allen

Permission

Have you ever had words spoken over you that felt weird, wrong, or totally incongruent with everything else you'd been contemplating? That happened to me the other week when 3 women from church offered soaking prayer for me. Everything they told me had to do with being set apart and holy and weird visions.
Tara: So what did you think when they said that?
Me: Shit!

I was explaining that it was like someone handing you a wrapped gift and you think they really know you. Then you open the box and it's a subscription to Sports Illustrated and lime green thong underwear. Then you don't feel known at all. You feel oddly betrayed.

Tara gave me permission to wrap the box of that message from God back up and stick the holiness message in the garage.

in advance

I know that technically fasting is supposed to be top-secret stuff. And I'm writing about it. Sorry. I myself am interested in the prayer lives of other people. I've been reading I Told the Mountain to Move and have been helped by entering into Patricia Raybon's memoir of learning how to pray. She's been teaching me about praying with gratitude about answers to prayer before the change happens--praying with great expectation. A mentality of knowing God is good already. So I've liked living in her mind through her prayers over her husband's life-threatening surgery, her struggling daughters, her struggle to love her mom right, and her regret over past abortions. Good stuff.

God is telling me He'll show me His goodness. So I try to climb up through my fears to thank Him in advance. And I keep finding acorns everywhere. They're getting bigger every week.

Cheat

I admit that I cheated today for the first time. My resolution has been to only eat with people. Tonight I made hot cocoa. My one meal today meant to last for the next 24 hours was going to be lunch-- a potluck with girlfriends. But the spirit of bringing your best family recipe dies when girls pick up the cheapest, nutrient empty grocery store offerings instead of real food. Now I crave real food-- oatmeal, tomatoes, aged cheddar. The only exception is soda which still sounds satisfying due to the lovely caffeine. Still, it was nice to have real Sunday dinner with a pretty set table- candles, clothe napkins, great coffee. That's how my mother always did Sundays when I was growing up.

As I'm heading into week 2 at work, I'm questioning my ability to love the students. Not just challenge them, but love them for exactly who they are. I have a co-worker who can look right at students and say, "you know I love you." I can't do that. Must find a source to draw from that is deeper and richer.