I missed it. How could I have missed that?!
My last post was my 100th post (!). And I totally missed it. Only realizing it after I had written and posted last week and logging back in to see "100 posts".
Wow, friends. We made it. We did it. 100 posts together. I think that's worth a mention! And if this wasn't so virtual and you weren't all so far away, I would pop a bottle of champagne and cheers to you all for keeping up with this scraped and layered palimpsest of a blog.
Once I realized my major faux pas in missing a mention of my 100th post, my mom reminded me of the big bash that Ellen had for her 100th episode. Which made me feel even more lame. Ah well, I'm not Ellen and this is not a daytime TV show. So let's embrace our differences and celebrate 101!
Here goes. 101.
Whew. That means I've been writing and posting here for 2.5 years. Go figure. I went into this endeavoring to share my "work" (words) with "the people" and in an attempt to keep myself accountable to my writing. I don't always hit my once a week mark. Sometimes I don't feel like I have anything valuable to say. And other times I'm bursting with thoughts and reflections and news.
Take this week, for example. I did make this incredible squash coconut curry - which was really amazing and firey. I also made a really beautiful and really delicious apply pie. My first of the season. I set out to make a pie for a little gathering and realized that all my recipes are packed in a box. Because we're moving a week from tomorrow. So, I made it from memory, using good sense, baker's intuition, and my approximately 17 years of experience making apple pie. And it was perfect! Which made me feel great because I recently heard something about how we are losing some measure of our intelligence because we have become so dependent on Google. Apparently, if we gave ourselves 30 seconds to try and recall the information we might have stored in our brain before Googling it, we would be smarter. It felt good to exercise my right to remember and bake with confidence.
Also, since my 100th post, I attended a live show of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me and Radiolab in a glorious series of NPR camaraderie and realization of what my favorite radio hosts really look like. Both amazing nights.
But none of that is really why I sat down to write. Yes, curry and pie and radio are all good things, but I've been thinking about some things a little deeper than all that and talking with some friends about things a lot harder than making a pie from memory.
A friend posed this question to me: Do you ever feel like if you don't take the biggest step of faith you would be disappointing God?
My response: YES.
Furthermore, do you ever feel like if you don't take the biggest step of faith you will disappoint yourself?
I know a lot of people who are in some very unique periods of transition and soul-searching right now. It is so exhausting to try and discern what you should do. Sometimes I think God makes it very clear, and sometimes I think he asks us to take the trajectory of our life and faith into consideration and make a choice. Humanity is a conundrum - because we like having options, but once we have options, we can become paralyzed by our fear of choosing the wrong thing. Or paralyzed by our fear of disappointment.
This is huge. I think we probably spend way too much time thinking about disappointment and guilt. The truth is, we are imperfect beings. We mess up an awful lot. And probably cause our fair share of disappointment. But here is another truth I find to be very freeing: this is not news to God. The whole purpose of his beautifully and powerfully designed thread of redemption, culminating in the death and resurrection of the Son of Man, is so that we can be free of all that. The Master of the Universe did not create a world full of beauty and joy and places and things to explore so that we can feel guilty for enjoying it. Nor do I believe he gives us choice, opportunity, and avenues of transition so that we act or fail to act out of fear of disappointment.
My prayer for myself and for the many people I know who sit in this tension, is that we would be compelled to move with intension, clarity of mind and spirit, and great joy.
I think Frederich Buechner says it best:
"Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid."