My husband has been out of town for a week now. I've been living on popcorn and oatmeal -- except for tonight, I splurged on sushi. I feel a little gross. Not because of the sushi, more because of the overwhelming build-up of carbs in my system. Is it possible they've built up?
My friend Beaner and I used to talk about writing a book that would be called "The Anti-Atkins Diet: White and Refined," to honor our love for bread and other carbohydrates. We used to be involved in a ministry that would serve dinner each week, and the woman in charge would bake the most amazing bread -- it was dense as a rock, a very soft, rich, buttery rock, and it would sit warmly in the bottom of your stomach for hours, reminding you how important it would be to engage in physical activity the next day when you were able to move about normally again.
Beaner and I took a long walk today. It was an astonishingly beautiful morning that turned into a windy but still lovely afternoon. We went to a store in Fell's Point that makes us wish we had more money so we could buy useless but strangely appealing things like $38 scented candles and soap carved into different breeds of dogs. Actually, we discovered we're just as happy mocking such things and our culture that markets them so successfully. Beaner told me she went to the farmers' market this morning and offered a homeless man an apple. He responded that he had no teeth. She was at a loss for words.
After our walk, I felt compelled to go jogging because it had been my plan to go jogging today and darn it I had to follow my plan. So I put on my spandex pants and my jacket and jogged through Patterson Park, running past couples walking their dogs, groups of boys playing football, mothers yelling at their kids to stop doing whatever they were doing. There was a man sleeping on the bench -- he didn't look homeless, just like he'd gotten bored of whatever he started out doing and decided to take a nap in the sun. I couldn't blame him. I ran past a pair of couples and I wondered if they were all happy. I ran as fast as I could at the end -- Lucky always encourages me to "sprint" at the end to get my heart-rate up. I went until I thought my heart might push through my chest and I wanted to throw up. It was a good run.
I have to lead Chapel on Monday at work -- we have Chapel every Monday morning and each department takes turns leading. I somehow got assigned to this one. I'm unsure what to talk about. My life is about running for no apparent reason, about shopping for nothing, about looking at beautiful things, about being constantly behind on emails and phone calls and meetings, about desperately wanting a plan but never having all the information I'd like to have to make it. My life is about feeling incompetent in the workplace, in my marriage, in my pursuit of Christ. My life is about messing up in the same things, going around in circles, being ungrateful for the life I've been given. I think about the people suffering in Mozambique due to floods, people suffering in Burundi due to famine, people suffering in Darfur due to ethnic conflict and inexplicable evil, people suffering in Congo due to a host of disasters. The suffering doesn't ever stop. And today I went jogging. I feel like the only thing I could talk about in Chapel would be the mystery of life, an utterly incomprehensible mystery. What is an appropriate response, when the best we might be able to do is offer a toothless man an apple? What is an appropriate response when we don't have any answers, any insight, any clarity?
I don't know.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I have always loved your honesty. It's neat to be able to read it as well since you're a very eloquent writer. I'm excited to see you too.
Post a Comment