People are funny. Funny things happen. I like funny stories, especially if they are real. This is one of them.
Not too long into the beginning of our relationship, Jeromy and I visited a quaint little Vietnamese restaurant in our little (minus the quaint) county. I really wasn't a fan of Asian food until I met Jeromy. I can seriously count on one hand the number of times I had ever eaten at an Asian restaurant B.J. (Before Jeromy). And La Choy chow mein doesn't count. My mom made me eat it. I highly dislike water chestnuts.
Once Jeromy and I started dating I quickly developed a taste for Asian food, and now we regularly make dishes like Thai curry chicken and other types of stir fly. (If only we had registered for that wok at BB&B!) Thai is our favorite, bar none. Jeromy is the curry freak. I'll eat it, but the fish sauce gives me horrible nausea. I'm a less traditional Asian food lover. I won't get anywhere near menu items that include duck, rabbit, sushi, or squid. I always make sure they leave the onions off my Pad Thai (I enjoy water chestnuts better than onions...texture, texture!). Regardless, Jeromy is a well-rounded fellow when it comes to international cuisine, and it has since rubbed off on me. Although, he can keep his predilection for Indian food! He will have to work on me a little longer for that one.
Upon arriving at the Hot Noodle, the hostess proceeded to seat us in their signature high-backed booths (go privacy!), and we began to scour the menu for something to drink. Normally Jeromy and I order water whenever we eat out, just because it saves on both the bill and tip, and besides that the natural thirst quencher always wins over less healthy varieties like pop (yes, I'm from the Midwest, but West Virginians also say pop, so I learned from marrying one!), which we rarely consume.
This particular evening, however, Jeromy couldn't resist the option of ordering a tall glass of coconut water. The Vietnamese place serves it with actual chunks/shavings of coconut floating in the beverage. I tried it and it's pretty good, though not very sweet. We decided on drinks and waited for our server, setting in for a romantic evening of looking longingly into each other's eyes (oh, the days before sitting on the same side of the booth!).
Our server never came.
Now, there are two kinds of servers in this world (rarely have we encounter a balanced exception): "Annoying Little Sister", the stops-by-your-table-and-asks-how-you're-doing-every-30-seconds server, who asks how the food tastes before you have time to take a single bite. And then we have "Houdini", the-takes-your-order-and-disappears-into-the-night (or falls into a boiling vat of "Tom Ka Gai") server, who brings your food and bill at the same time. Well, that night we endured a big bag of tricks from the latter.
Moments before severe dehydration set in, we managed to flag Mr. Houdini to our table. (He finally noticed our cartwheels and jumping jacks from the other side of the room.) Although barely able to talk due to his poor parched throat, Jeromy managed to request his favorite beverage.
We enjoyed a few more minutes of beautiful company, complete with much under the table hand-holding.
Miracle of miracles, Houdini was back in a flash, holding up a tall, refreshing glass of....Coke?
"No, no...I'm sorry, " Jeromy tried to be polite. "I actually asked for coconut water."
"Oooooh. Ok! Be back." Even Houdini fails once in a while.
*Resume more googly-eye hand-holding.*
Houdini returned. And you wouldn't believe it, holding another glass of Coke! But...without ice.
We looked at each other in confusion. What was up with this guy? They must receive orders for dozens of glasses of coconut water every day.
"Uh, sir, I wanted COCONUT water." Jeromy tried a third time. "Cooooconu-----waaaaait a minute. No, no, no, I DON'T want Coc-a-cola with or without ice. I want co-co-nut wa-ter."
So that was it! Houdini thought Jeromy wanted Coke, and then he thought the "not water" part meant no ice! Coke and not water!
Jeromy finally received the real coconut water as requested, but we are still scratching our heads trying to figure out how a server at an Asian restaurant could mistake "coke and not water" for the novel coconut water! The events of this dinner date has since turned into a running joke between us, especially the few times Jeromy actually does order a Coke -- and not water!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
sugar and spice and everything nice
Yesterday we had a young friend visit us for dinner. (Which means all that homemade pizza is long gone!) Jeromy met Chris about 3 years ago while Chris worked at the Coffee Quarter (the place Jeromy and I met). They started having spiritual conversations, and on occasion Chris would meet with Jeromy for a sort of Bible study. Since then, our contact with Chris has been random (this is a SMALL county; it's likely to run into everybody we know at some place or other at least once a year). He's a great young man, very polite, but also very secular. We don't have people in our home terribly often, and since pizza is a pretty universal favorite food, we thought we would ask him over.
We had a fun night of visiting. Ate too much, looked on www.somd.com for a table and chair set for Chris, and listened to a little Derek Webb. (We had been talking about the campaign year, and wanted Chris to listen to "Savior on Capitol Hill" for kicks. Complete satire, but so true.) Then I used our guest as an excuse to break out the brownie mix. (But really, who needs an excuse for that?!) and we ate....some more. I had been trying out different from-scratch brownie recipes I found on www.allrecipes.com but haven't found the winner yet. In the meantime, the box mix never lets me down.
Jeromy and I have a few friends here in Southern Maryland, but to be honest, not that many. And it seems they are all guys. You got Chris, Joe, and Mark. We really don't hang out with too many other people, outside of church (and we have found true fellowship doesn't actually happen at church...but that's a topic for another blog). Let me emphasize that I am so grateful for the friends God has given us, and the opportunities we have had to share experiences and talk about our faith. What I am missing is girl talk.
Jeromy and I used to be a part of a young adult Sunday School class, which consisted of mainly married couples, and about 3/4 of them with children. Some were our age and some were older. Over the last quarter we switched to a different Sunday School because we felt we weren't getting to know other people in the church. All the other classes scrambled the groups every couple months or so, and we felt there were so many faces that we recognized, but individuals we didn't know much about.
So we switched. A part of me missed the old group because they were our peers or close to it, but the other part of me enjoyed learning about this new group, at least as deep as we could one hour once a week (again, another blog!). Now we are at the end of another Sunday School quarter, and Jeromy and I will most likely go back to the young couples class.
There are a few girls in the group who I could get together with, but the events I seem to plan (and I make sure to give a lot of notice!) rarely provide a good turnout. Maybe people like more spontaneity, I don't know. But the point is, I struggle with getting together with my female peers for anything. It seems like people don't want to add anything extra to weekday evenings. I can empathize with that, just because we go to bed so early (we stink, yeah). But it seems that the guys we hang out with more readily agree to come by for a visit, or to meet somewhere for coffee or whatever. Maybe it is because those guys are single...I dunno.
There are a few ladies Bible studies organized by our church, but they are mid-morning on a weekday. And even then, those who attend those studies are SAHMs or older ladies. I do desire spending time with women older than me because they have a wealth of wisdom to draw from. But I also need that "same boat" type connection with someone my age and who can relate to my stage in life. It's just been hard to find that.
Sometimes it's difficult to go on Facebook and see all my friends from college. I realize many of them may be facing a similar dry spell. When I go on there I catch a glimpse of what used to be and it feels like we are all together again, even though we're not. It makes me wish we all lived close by because we would never lack for people to get together with. But they live THERE. I live here. Facebook is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with family and friends, but I will never "do life" with those people. Only those in my Southern Maryland sphere.
Which makes me think about the singles group at our church. They are ALWAYS participating in some activity or another. So is that what this is? Is this something that happens when one goes from being single to being married? Are married people less likely to hang out with other couples because of responsibilities they have now but didn't have while single? If that is true, I don't like it. Maybe I have to accept it but I feel like it shouldn't HAVE to be this way. We all need relationships with others outside our families at every place in life. But how will that realistically happen, now that I am married?
Maybe this is just a season in my life where I have to learn to be content without much girl-to-girl interaction. I'll keep trying, though. Maybe it's just a matter of timing.
We had a fun night of visiting. Ate too much, looked on www.somd.com for a table and chair set for Chris, and listened to a little Derek Webb. (We had been talking about the campaign year, and wanted Chris to listen to "Savior on Capitol Hill" for kicks. Complete satire, but so true.) Then I used our guest as an excuse to break out the brownie mix. (But really, who needs an excuse for that?!) and we ate....some more. I had been trying out different from-scratch brownie recipes I found on www.allrecipes.com but haven't found the winner yet. In the meantime, the box mix never lets me down.
Jeromy and I have a few friends here in Southern Maryland, but to be honest, not that many. And it seems they are all guys. You got Chris, Joe, and Mark. We really don't hang out with too many other people, outside of church (and we have found true fellowship doesn't actually happen at church...but that's a topic for another blog). Let me emphasize that I am so grateful for the friends God has given us, and the opportunities we have had to share experiences and talk about our faith. What I am missing is girl talk.
Jeromy and I used to be a part of a young adult Sunday School class, which consisted of mainly married couples, and about 3/4 of them with children. Some were our age and some were older. Over the last quarter we switched to a different Sunday School because we felt we weren't getting to know other people in the church. All the other classes scrambled the groups every couple months or so, and we felt there were so many faces that we recognized, but individuals we didn't know much about.
So we switched. A part of me missed the old group because they were our peers or close to it, but the other part of me enjoyed learning about this new group, at least as deep as we could one hour once a week (again, another blog!). Now we are at the end of another Sunday School quarter, and Jeromy and I will most likely go back to the young couples class.
There are a few girls in the group who I could get together with, but the events I seem to plan (and I make sure to give a lot of notice!) rarely provide a good turnout. Maybe people like more spontaneity, I don't know. But the point is, I struggle with getting together with my female peers for anything. It seems like people don't want to add anything extra to weekday evenings. I can empathize with that, just because we go to bed so early (we stink, yeah). But it seems that the guys we hang out with more readily agree to come by for a visit, or to meet somewhere for coffee or whatever. Maybe it is because those guys are single...I dunno.
There are a few ladies Bible studies organized by our church, but they are mid-morning on a weekday. And even then, those who attend those studies are SAHMs or older ladies. I do desire spending time with women older than me because they have a wealth of wisdom to draw from. But I also need that "same boat" type connection with someone my age and who can relate to my stage in life. It's just been hard to find that.
Sometimes it's difficult to go on Facebook and see all my friends from college. I realize many of them may be facing a similar dry spell. When I go on there I catch a glimpse of what used to be and it feels like we are all together again, even though we're not. It makes me wish we all lived close by because we would never lack for people to get together with. But they live THERE. I live here. Facebook is an amazing tool for keeping in touch with family and friends, but I will never "do life" with those people. Only those in my Southern Maryland sphere.
Which makes me think about the singles group at our church. They are ALWAYS participating in some activity or another. So is that what this is? Is this something that happens when one goes from being single to being married? Are married people less likely to hang out with other couples because of responsibilities they have now but didn't have while single? If that is true, I don't like it. Maybe I have to accept it but I feel like it shouldn't HAVE to be this way. We all need relationships with others outside our families at every place in life. But how will that realistically happen, now that I am married?
Maybe this is just a season in my life where I have to learn to be content without much girl-to-girl interaction. I'll keep trying, though. Maybe it's just a matter of timing.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Red Light, Green Light
On the way home from work the other night, a movement just up ahead in the sky caught my attention A massive flock of starlings were stretched across what seemed like the entire sky, fluttering like a giant ribbon. Whether just beginning their annual journey South or continuing on, their goal was unmistakable. From what I’ve noticed, Southern Maryland fowl tend to receive the “moving day memo” much later than those in my home state of Minnesota, the latter varieties mostly long past the mason-dixon line by the beginning of November. Here in the mid-Atlantic, the migration seems to occur in spurts over a period of months. Just when you think all those loud Canadian geese have left the premises, you are rudely awakened early one Saturday morning to a chorus of out of tune, insensitive shrieking. Who needs the annoying neighbor?
This particular late afternoon I found the birds fascinating. Their ability to swiftly and efficiently maneuver about the open sky seemed a slap in the face to us road-raging, vehicular commuters. No stop light, blinker, or speed limit necessary. Instinct would keep them safe to their destination, even taking weather conditions into account better than we! Where they thrive, we make a mess. Oh to exist as perfectly in accordance with the Creator as these feathered creatures!
Such sightings as these always leave me in wonder. I could just barely make out the head of the flock many miles beyond my little Alero, but the trail seemed to infinitely flow into the distance, the end nowhere in sight. There were just SO many birds! Usually I see the typical dozen or so flying off in that signature “greater than” sign, so to observe thousands upon thousands of little starlings all at once was nothing short of breathtaking. This was one of those “God sightings” that leave your jaw hanging and you mind swimming with “how” questions.
Moments like these can sure bring a gloriously fresh sense of perspective! So then why do I so often over look them? I'll tell you why. My typical day is filled to the brim with chore and duty and self-groping. I spend most of it in a tunnel; in my little world. And most people do. Therefore, it is extremely refreshing to occasionally notice something so outside and beyond myself where, in an instant, I lose my bitter attitude and even possibly bid farewell to a pity party. (The food and music are never good at those anyway.) At times these instances come in the form of majestic creation, such as our migration phenomenon. Other times they appear as a deep red-orange sunrise, or as the refreshingly crisp scent of Fall, or as a myriad of sparkling tree branches the morning after a vigorous ice storm.
Nature seems to have a way; or rather, God tends to use nature in such a way that seems to brings Himself into the sphere of our senses. These things remind us Whose world this is. These things cause us to realize our appointed stewardship to both care for and appreciate this world, the desired outcome being His greatness and our delight springing from our hearts. Perspective, indeed. Most of the time my world is so small that I am the only one who fits into it. And even when God catches my attention, such as in the form of a rainbow, a juicy orange, or the beautiful face of my husband, the moment flees before I consciously capture it and make something more of it, before I can make it linger, before I fully embrace the GOD of all things glorious.
Yet God continues to display His greatness to us in these ways, whether we take hold of them or not. I think perhaps the reason these moments seem to occur most often on the road is simply for the lack of distraction. It is just the wheels and the driver, and often a few Christian radio tunes, which tend to steer my thoughts heavenward anyway (no pun intended). This is a time when I absolutely cannot do anything else but think, within the realm of highway vigilance, of course!
It’s funny how I am thinking about all of these things, and this very morning on the way to work the Christian radio host asked listeners to call in and tell about an extraordinary God-experience within their ordinary life. I had just flipped on the radio while they were in midst of this discussion. Coincidence? I don’t think so. The man on the phone described an instance where, over the Christmas holiday, he was to meet his family at a famous live nativity display in Pennsylvania. For some reason he faced a few obstacles earlier in the day so that he thought he for sure would not make it all the way across the state in time to be with his family. He began to drive anyway. About halfway there he noticed that he was hitting all the green lights which, in his experience, rarely happens. He usually catches all the red lights. (Boy, can I sympathize!) The caller’s point was that God’s grace allowed him to make it to the display in time to share the special evening with his family. “God was in the green lights!” And I would agree with that, as God is certainly just as sovereign over details as He is over major events. I would even say that God's presence goes way too often unnoticed in these cheery moments.
I love it, though, what the radio host stated in response. “And we have to remember that God is also in the red lights.” Oh how we despise those red lights! I tend to break out in hives at red lights. And it seems there is always some 18-wheeler or school bus in the front of the line, making it impossible to get a quick “pick up” once the light finally turns. Red lights force me to slow down and even have the nerve to force me to stop! Why I never take red lights into account when I plan my day is beyond me. Why wouldn’t I expect them? Why do I sulk when it takes me a measly five extra minutes to get into work? Red lights are a part of life.
The truth is that most of us see red more than green. In every aspect. We face the difficult way more than the easy. What is easy, is for me to think God is not in those red lights. I would rather He not be. I would rather not view God as Someone who sovereignty places obstacle and discomfort into our lives and messes up our perfectly efficient schedules. But I’ll say most of the time that is the only way He can flag us down long enough to get across our numb skulls, “Hellllllooooo! Who’s in control here?!” My guess is that He probably enjoys using sunsets and flowers to get our attention more often than broken bones and traffic jams, green lights more than red. And yet, he is still in all of it.
Lately, when God reveals His greatness in the form of gorgeous displays, such as he did the other days with the birds, I have been prompted to pray for those around me who might be seeing the same thing. I pray that those who do not know God will see Him here, in this thing. Whether in the bright sunshine of a pleasant day, or in the striking contrast of a looming storm cloud, I figure these moments are not for my benefit only. I am also beginning to do the same thing whenever I see a car accident scene, or hear an ambulance siren from my apartment. I pray that others will see God and His grace in those situations as well, whatever the outcome.
But honestly, I need more prayer for myself than I pray for everybody else! I miss so very many green and red light moments that I don’t allow God to show up in my life nearly as much as I need Him to. Why does it have to take a big display of some sort for me to know He is there and that He is working? Why does my response to God depend on whether or not the outcome seems favorable to me? Why do I consistently resist red lights in my life and embrace only green ones, if I embrace them at all?
Sometimes I believe that if I didn’t have to work so much, or that if my commute to work were shorter, or if I weren’t so tired, or if life weren’t so stinking hard I would be able to nurture a closer relationship with God and let Him work in my life. I wish for some sort of Eden or something. While I definitely won’t find that here in this flesh, I have to remember that I can at least catch glimpses of it in the green lights and savor those moments. And in red lights I can hold on and drink fully of the reality that these moments prepare me for Eden.
Perhaps the green lights are meant to grant us hope for the red, as reminders that another green light is not too far off. After all, every red light eventually turns green.
This particular late afternoon I found the birds fascinating. Their ability to swiftly and efficiently maneuver about the open sky seemed a slap in the face to us road-raging, vehicular commuters. No stop light, blinker, or speed limit necessary. Instinct would keep them safe to their destination, even taking weather conditions into account better than we! Where they thrive, we make a mess. Oh to exist as perfectly in accordance with the Creator as these feathered creatures!
Such sightings as these always leave me in wonder. I could just barely make out the head of the flock many miles beyond my little Alero, but the trail seemed to infinitely flow into the distance, the end nowhere in sight. There were just SO many birds! Usually I see the typical dozen or so flying off in that signature “greater than” sign, so to observe thousands upon thousands of little starlings all at once was nothing short of breathtaking. This was one of those “God sightings” that leave your jaw hanging and you mind swimming with “how” questions.
Moments like these can sure bring a gloriously fresh sense of perspective! So then why do I so often over look them? I'll tell you why. My typical day is filled to the brim with chore and duty and self-groping. I spend most of it in a tunnel; in my little world. And most people do. Therefore, it is extremely refreshing to occasionally notice something so outside and beyond myself where, in an instant, I lose my bitter attitude and even possibly bid farewell to a pity party. (The food and music are never good at those anyway.) At times these instances come in the form of majestic creation, such as our migration phenomenon. Other times they appear as a deep red-orange sunrise, or as the refreshingly crisp scent of Fall, or as a myriad of sparkling tree branches the morning after a vigorous ice storm.
Nature seems to have a way; or rather, God tends to use nature in such a way that seems to brings Himself into the sphere of our senses. These things remind us Whose world this is. These things cause us to realize our appointed stewardship to both care for and appreciate this world, the desired outcome being His greatness and our delight springing from our hearts. Perspective, indeed. Most of the time my world is so small that I am the only one who fits into it. And even when God catches my attention, such as in the form of a rainbow, a juicy orange, or the beautiful face of my husband, the moment flees before I consciously capture it and make something more of it, before I can make it linger, before I fully embrace the GOD of all things glorious.
Yet God continues to display His greatness to us in these ways, whether we take hold of them or not. I think perhaps the reason these moments seem to occur most often on the road is simply for the lack of distraction. It is just the wheels and the driver, and often a few Christian radio tunes, which tend to steer my thoughts heavenward anyway (no pun intended). This is a time when I absolutely cannot do anything else but think, within the realm of highway vigilance, of course!
It’s funny how I am thinking about all of these things, and this very morning on the way to work the Christian radio host asked listeners to call in and tell about an extraordinary God-experience within their ordinary life. I had just flipped on the radio while they were in midst of this discussion. Coincidence? I don’t think so. The man on the phone described an instance where, over the Christmas holiday, he was to meet his family at a famous live nativity display in Pennsylvania. For some reason he faced a few obstacles earlier in the day so that he thought he for sure would not make it all the way across the state in time to be with his family. He began to drive anyway. About halfway there he noticed that he was hitting all the green lights which, in his experience, rarely happens. He usually catches all the red lights. (Boy, can I sympathize!) The caller’s point was that God’s grace allowed him to make it to the display in time to share the special evening with his family. “God was in the green lights!” And I would agree with that, as God is certainly just as sovereign over details as He is over major events. I would even say that God's presence goes way too often unnoticed in these cheery moments.
I love it, though, what the radio host stated in response. “And we have to remember that God is also in the red lights.” Oh how we despise those red lights! I tend to break out in hives at red lights. And it seems there is always some 18-wheeler or school bus in the front of the line, making it impossible to get a quick “pick up” once the light finally turns. Red lights force me to slow down and even have the nerve to force me to stop! Why I never take red lights into account when I plan my day is beyond me. Why wouldn’t I expect them? Why do I sulk when it takes me a measly five extra minutes to get into work? Red lights are a part of life.
The truth is that most of us see red more than green. In every aspect. We face the difficult way more than the easy. What is easy, is for me to think God is not in those red lights. I would rather He not be. I would rather not view God as Someone who sovereignty places obstacle and discomfort into our lives and messes up our perfectly efficient schedules. But I’ll say most of the time that is the only way He can flag us down long enough to get across our numb skulls, “Hellllllooooo! Who’s in control here?!” My guess is that He probably enjoys using sunsets and flowers to get our attention more often than broken bones and traffic jams, green lights more than red. And yet, he is still in all of it.
Lately, when God reveals His greatness in the form of gorgeous displays, such as he did the other days with the birds, I have been prompted to pray for those around me who might be seeing the same thing. I pray that those who do not know God will see Him here, in this thing. Whether in the bright sunshine of a pleasant day, or in the striking contrast of a looming storm cloud, I figure these moments are not for my benefit only. I am also beginning to do the same thing whenever I see a car accident scene, or hear an ambulance siren from my apartment. I pray that others will see God and His grace in those situations as well, whatever the outcome.
But honestly, I need more prayer for myself than I pray for everybody else! I miss so very many green and red light moments that I don’t allow God to show up in my life nearly as much as I need Him to. Why does it have to take a big display of some sort for me to know He is there and that He is working? Why does my response to God depend on whether or not the outcome seems favorable to me? Why do I consistently resist red lights in my life and embrace only green ones, if I embrace them at all?
Sometimes I believe that if I didn’t have to work so much, or that if my commute to work were shorter, or if I weren’t so tired, or if life weren’t so stinking hard I would be able to nurture a closer relationship with God and let Him work in my life. I wish for some sort of Eden or something. While I definitely won’t find that here in this flesh, I have to remember that I can at least catch glimpses of it in the green lights and savor those moments. And in red lights I can hold on and drink fully of the reality that these moments prepare me for Eden.
Perhaps the green lights are meant to grant us hope for the red, as reminders that another green light is not too far off. After all, every red light eventually turns green.
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