Tonight we made this cake for our life group (our college bible study group from our church.) There was no rhubarb in season so we made the glaze with strawberries. Wonderous.
Unfortunately I have no "finished-project" photos or "eating-the-cake" photos, but this sums up our happy half hour of baking together before everyone else got there, singing Ingrid Michaelson and tasting more often than necessary.
So this is pretty funny... but it's also sad for sure. Do you ever feel like that? Like you're in the sunny world and you're the one who trips?
I feel like this a lot.
I'm loud; I say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I'm even a little clumsy (and that's even a little under-exagerated). I get offended. I make mistakes. I'm out of shape, especially after Christmas and being sick the past few weeks. I forget stuff. I drop the ball. I don't live up to my ideals.
I fall off the board.
But at the end of it all the day is still sunny. I hope I'm the guy who can laugh it off, dust off, get back on the board.
I feel like I'm pretty happy in my own skin. Put on some lipstick and add a little spring to your step. Go adventuring!
I hope that's me.
I hope that's you.
My friends live in a wonderland akin to coming home to a home I've never known. It's fantastic. Sunday afternoon we drove down from our church retreat to be with Kat's family. Julia and I were thrilled to be meeting Kat's people, as we call them. We met friends, parents, and the boy (of whom we approve, basically goes without saying, because he's so good for and to her).
Basically, everyone should have friends who's homes feel like home and who's families feel like family.
This is a great blessing.
How quickly we forget--
the Lord and His goodness.
He opens our eyes to His planning,
In time He reveals His will.
The Lord, in all His might,
performs miracles for children.
In His greatness and tenderness
He cares for their joys.
Jehovah Rapha, the Lord heals.
He is ever-present.
I will never be alone.
So lots and lots of things have been happening which have been stressful, worrying, amazing, taxing, relaxing, enlightening, fun, boring, and everything in between...
but this weekend I'm going out of town, which is a marvelous thing to be able to say. Let's say it out loud a few times "I'm going out of town. I am going out of town." Try putting the emphasis on different syllables, makes it better.
Anyhoo, to alleviate the stress a tad early my friend Kat and I went to the store. On the way there we discussed her tendency to blush upon first meeting someone. "And then it's over with and I never have to do it again." I find this hilariously amusing and am making a mental, and now physical, note to introduce her to more people and watch for the blush.
While out I bought some lipstick. Needless to say I've been reading all those articles A Cup of Jo has had over the past year or so about bold lipstick and I finally have some! It's just a cheap one but it feels so powerful and fantastic and is pretty durable. I'm very contented.
You drop it into your pocket, whatever it may be-- the phone, the keys, a penny you found on the sidewalk sunny-side up. And there it is safe and sound, there it'll stay. Just a slight reach away. The security of carrying something on your own person, of keeping it in your possession, under your protection. Almost like a friend.
Whoever invented pockets needs to down in history with the inventor of sofas, and sunny saturday mornings, and singing in the kitchen.
Isn't it nice, for once, to hold the physical letter in your hand? To know that someone took time to spread the ink on the paper themselves. To receive a doodle along with a kind word and maybe even a teabag or a ribbon or a button. To be able to put it away in your drawer to keep for all time.
And then you have the time to write back. Time to daydream, time to plan. To drink a cup of tea. No one is expecting the reply for at least a week or three. You have plenty of time. Time to think up all the questions, store up all the moments, you wish your friends could be here for. And then you sit down to write and draw and paint... And you lose most of the things you'd planned to say, but it doesn't matter because it's sealed and on it's way to be posted already.
Yesterday I ate an apple. Today I ate another apple. I used to hate apples, but I've decided to give them a chance. Along with olives, who are also getting a chance, and other dubious fruit & veg. I'm not a picky eater trying to mend my ways in the New Year, just a curious consumer. There are lots of things I didn't particularly care for as a child that might prove more appetizing to the grown palate. They are worth revisiting.
So today it's raining and campus is lovely and wet. I'm wearing my rainboots and my new perfect, green, Chaps sweater that I bought on sale at Kohl's. I drank some tea and today should be perfectly wonderful. I even have three lovely poems to read for British Literature and, seeing as break just ended, I'm not even sick of homework yet! But I have a cold and I would like to be in bed.
PS: I thought this was funny since I sneezed rather louder than I would have liked to twice in Old Testament today.
Now that the first day of the semester is gone it's a good time to talk about improvement of the mind.
I'm going to dedicate myself to reading more classics and doing more background work on my homework.
Some other ideas: play more word games, read a little everyday, explore a subject that has always intrigued you, read some non-fiction, don't be afraid to ask any question.
I am a selective perfectionist. I'm not crazy about everything but every now and again (often if you hear it from some people) it jumps at me. Notebooks, lists, packing, relationships, and other ironic things that are impossible to perfect.
So I end up with empty notebooks, never-ending scraps of paper with words all over them, piles all on the floor, people I've hurt, trips I've never taken, things I've never tried, dreams I've left unspoken, problems I don't even want to start fixing because I've figured out perfect is not possible for mere man.
So now, for a winter resolution, let us have notebooks full of lists that accidentally repeat themselves. Let us have disorder in our suitcases, on our shelves, and in the drawers. Let us have honesty and love, dreaming and plans. Let us be good friends, old friends, true friends, new friends. Let us have adventures. Let us face the problems.
Let us make many, many, fearless mistakes.