Pale in comparison to His creations. The heavens and the earth, mankind, all of life. Everything from the sand on the shore to the feeling we call love. But we create through His inspiration. I have created. I have destroyed. I rejoice in those creations.
Breakfast. My dad always told me it was the most important meal of the day. I didn't start making breakfast until just a few years ago, and I've found that I truly, truly love it. Not just in the eating, I've always enjoyed that. But in the making. Cooking is a delicate art. Breakfast tends to be fairly forgiving, and even when you mess up you still have scrambled eggs. My favorite breakfast that I ever made was french toast. My mom was never a fan, as a child her mother made her eat some undercooked french toast. On this day, however, she encouraged me to make some. In my entire life, I had only known her to eat it once. She told me to go to Save Mart and buy some of their artisan bread. That morning, I made some of the lightest, most crisp, fluffy, and savory french toast I've ever had. My sister and nephew Sebastian ate some as well. Served with powdered sugar and sliced strawberries, it was a delight. I still remember the texture, and don't ever want to forget it.
Lunch. Nothing beats a lunchmeat sandwich. Ham and turkey on honey wheat bread, some chipotle mayonnaise, lettuce, tomato, and provolone cheese. I am always game for a sandwich with a side of chips, an apple, and something tasty to drink... I'm thinking of iced tea. However, there may as well be a second category for lunch, when you're doing it with friends. A hot dog at a baseball game. Toppings of your choice, but there, then, and that is always perfect. I would love to be sharing a baseball game with friends right now - a Dodgers/Giants game at that. Such a thing would be a beautiful.
Dinner. When I got married last year, it turned out that I had more "free" time than Theresa. And becuase I often got home before she did, I took it upon myself to prepare dinner regularly. My favorite dinner to make was discovered early on. Searching through a cookbook for something that sounded delectable, I discovered a pesto baked chicken, with sliced tomato and mozerella cheese melted atop it. Served with some long-grain wild rice and steamed vegetables, it makes for something truly special - perhaps some day I'll prepare it for you! Above and beyond everything else I make, this is my favorite dish to serve anyone, regardless of the things its memory is still tied to; the dish is too good to not share. I hope we can enjoy it soon.
But drinks. The drink is where your meal truly comes together. Even back in the day, when you were in elementary school. You always loved it when they served choccolate milk with lunch, or when your mom packed your favorite Capri-Sun. The rest of it was the same, even if it was E.L. Fudge cookies. But the drink washes it down, tops it off, and brings it all together. There's a different drink for every occasion. My favorite drink that I've ever made has to be a mojito. Raspberry, at that. The mojito is a difficult drink to master, and it takes lots of experience to know just how fine to crush the mint, how much of that lime to juice, the shaking, the mixing, the pour. It has to be perfect. And never neglect the details. Life is lived in the details. Such a thing can't be handled with broad strokes. The first time I made the raspberry mojito, Chris and Amelia Pitts were over visitng. It was a great evening, and my mojitos were unbeatable. I'd take one right now. Its a perfect drink for a warm day, something Visalia has no shortage of.
Dessert. I'll take two. But a good cheesecake is king here. Take your pick of how you want it, I still love it. Which happens to make me quite the sucker for the Cheesecake Factory. Paired with a Riesling, I could find hours of comfortable conversation with anyone who passed my way. Take me to the south of France, let me sit at a cafe, and enjoy the world as it spins.
Today is a very good day. Enjoy this day that the Lord has made, and hopefully soon we can share some of the food that I've had the pleasure of making. Until then, peace be with you!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
D-Day
I know that D-Day is traditionally considered June 6th, 1944; the landing of Allied forces on the beaches of Normandy. This is not that D-Day.
This is my D-Day. When Theresa and I filed for divorce 6 moths ago, I felt as if it was the right thing to do, all things considered. We realized that our lives were going in completely opposite directions, and that many of our life choices did not line up in the least bit. In order for both of us to thrive, we needed to do it separately. Some things haven't changed. We still work best as friends and not lovers, now more than ever. I fear that there are certain things I may never be able to fully forgive her of, no matter how much I try to give it up and put it into the past.
If divorce is the outward expression of a broken relationship and a last resort, then it is one taken when there is no more hope for restoration. But if we have no more hope for the relationship, then what does that say about our faith?
Hebrews 11:1 states that "...faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." (TNIV) If the marriage has no hope of restoration... did I sacrifice my faith? Did I fall short? I certainly know that I sacrificed a great deal of my heart. I'm a lesser man because of it. There is an old adage that I'm sure we have all heard, "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." The events of the past year certainly haven't killed me - I'm alive and breathing to be sure; but I certainly am not stronger for it. I see myself broken and wounded.
I thank the state for imposing a 6-month waiting period between the filing for divorce and its finalization. The heart needs time to realize the pain that it is in, the much it must endure, the weight it now carries. It reminds me of a scene from the movie, The Neverending Story. Near the beginning, Atreu and his horse travel south to find an old oracle, who turns out to be a giant tortoise. The tortoise lives in the middle of a giant bog. Sadness causes you to loose your footing, and Atreu's horse sinks into the bog and dies becauase it is saddened by knowing there is nothing they can truly do to halt the end of their world. That bog, that swamp - is the world my heart knows having experienced divorce. I can only thank God for the fact that Theresa and I did not have any children.
To every person who has experienced divorce in their life, be it their own, their parents', their childrens' or friends', my heart goes out to you. I would give you all that I have to offer. For all of you who have not gone through it - I pray it will never touch your lives.
Live each day as if it were your last. Never stop loving those around you. Take time to find true joy in your world, and give your troubles to the Lord.
This is my D-Day. When Theresa and I filed for divorce 6 moths ago, I felt as if it was the right thing to do, all things considered. We realized that our lives were going in completely opposite directions, and that many of our life choices did not line up in the least bit. In order for both of us to thrive, we needed to do it separately. Some things haven't changed. We still work best as friends and not lovers, now more than ever. I fear that there are certain things I may never be able to fully forgive her of, no matter how much I try to give it up and put it into the past.
If divorce is the outward expression of a broken relationship and a last resort, then it is one taken when there is no more hope for restoration. But if we have no more hope for the relationship, then what does that say about our faith?
Hebrews 11:1 states that "...faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." (TNIV) If the marriage has no hope of restoration... did I sacrifice my faith? Did I fall short? I certainly know that I sacrificed a great deal of my heart. I'm a lesser man because of it. There is an old adage that I'm sure we have all heard, "What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger." The events of the past year certainly haven't killed me - I'm alive and breathing to be sure; but I certainly am not stronger for it. I see myself broken and wounded.
I thank the state for imposing a 6-month waiting period between the filing for divorce and its finalization. The heart needs time to realize the pain that it is in, the much it must endure, the weight it now carries. It reminds me of a scene from the movie, The Neverending Story. Near the beginning, Atreu and his horse travel south to find an old oracle, who turns out to be a giant tortoise. The tortoise lives in the middle of a giant bog. Sadness causes you to loose your footing, and Atreu's horse sinks into the bog and dies becauase it is saddened by knowing there is nothing they can truly do to halt the end of their world. That bog, that swamp - is the world my heart knows having experienced divorce. I can only thank God for the fact that Theresa and I did not have any children.
To every person who has experienced divorce in their life, be it their own, their parents', their childrens' or friends', my heart goes out to you. I would give you all that I have to offer. For all of you who have not gone through it - I pray it will never touch your lives.
Live each day as if it were your last. Never stop loving those around you. Take time to find true joy in your world, and give your troubles to the Lord.
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