Deep, Free, Wild

May 11th.  That was when my last blog post happened.  I have so much I want to write but I'm unsure on if I can untangle the ball of yarn that is my thoughts.  Maybe, first, the good things.

I've been having a ton of fun lately.  Most of it is taking place in kitchens.  Not just mine either.

A few weeks ago I went to Wanda's house for a hair cut.  And we also did this:

You're looking at pulled pork nachos.  And that fork?  Just a prop.  We picked these babies up with our bare hands and bit into heaven.  The pork juice ran down our wrists towards our elbows and we grinned and bit deeper.  We made a beautiful and delicious mess together.  Wanda is some of my favorite people.

Another fun day was with the lovely Michelle.  I call her "the other Wanda".  She moved into my neighborhood a year and half ago and moved herself and her family right into my heart.  We took ourselves to the spa for a combined birthday celebration last month.

We each got a facial, massage, pedi, mani, and lunch.  Bernard's on Brighton.  Look it up.  Try it out.  You won't be sorry.

The massage bed was heated.  I'm pretty sure laying in there is what it feels like to be in the womb.  I felt warm and safe and protected.  I didn't want to leave.  But I did.  To walk down the hall to the facial room.

The facial lady (what is the proper terminology?  I have no idea.) was lovely as well even tho she felt the need to remark about my dry skin.

Facial Lady:  "What cleanser are you using?"

Me: "Uh, none."

Facial Lady:  dead silence

She slathered my face with a moisturizer laced with blueberry, cinnamon, and paprika.  I wanted to lick it.  While she was working she said something about how to take care of my skin.  I wasn't really listening.  Here's the naked truth:  I wasn't there for my skin health.  I was there because I love when people touch my face.  Just shut up and touch me.

Judge me however you will.

Next we had our mani/pedis.

This woman was so sweet.  And encouraging.  And interested in what I had to say.  And she loves Jesus.  And she rubbed my feet.  She has my heart forever.

Then it was lunch time.  I told Michelle how all day I felt like a bull in a china shop.  There is nothing dainty or quiet about me and here I was in this calm, quiet, luxurious spa.

And yet, no matter how out of place I felt, I would go back in a heartbeat.  But I would probably skip the mani this time.  Because 24 hours later, 9 out of 10 fingernails were chipped.  I use my hands always.

I did this wild and crazy thing a week ago called a Recipe Tasting. Here's what it boils down to:  my culinary genius is wasted on the people I live with and feed on a regular basis.  And my taste buds get bored.  So I chose 20 recipes that sounded delicious to me without any regard whatsoever to what my people like.  And then I invited 400 people to my house to taste the recipes with me.

No, that is not a typo.  I literally invited 400 people.  Mostly because I knew most of them wouldn't come but also because I subscribe wholeheartedly to the idea of Go Big or Go Home.  And also because I jump first and then think about it.  People kept asking me how I was going to do it.

"Mmm, I dont' know yet but it'll get done," was my standard response.  And it did.  And I only freaked out a little.  And I had a TON of crazy awesome help.  My dear bosses and some coworkers came early to help and stayed late to clean up.  To call them my bosses and coworkers feels wrong though.  These dear sweet human beings are my friends.  I love them to the ends of the earth and back again.

There were triumphs:

And there were dismal failures and messes.  Lots of messes.

It felt a lot like life.  How sometimes you have to make a mess and make mistakes and sometimes start completely over to get a beautiful end result.

But sometimes your hard work pays off and your finished product looks just like the picture.  It takes blood, sweat, and tears.  It takes help from your amazing friends.  You might be up late cooking and then up early cooking.  But in the end, it's worth it.  You watch all the cars flood up your driveway.  You see the little piles of people in your front yard.  You hear later, "Oh, I met so and so at your house."  You see a wild band of kids running crazy on the swing set.  You hug a ton of people and receive their compliments with a nod and smile.  You go to bed exhausted but with a smile that you just can't stop.

Recipe Tastings are hard work but they can turn out beautifully.

Life is hard work but it can turn out beautifully.

And then today.  My dear Crysti invited me for coffee this morning.  So I took some leftover stuffed pepper filling along and made us scrambled eggs.  Crysti sat at her island, per my instructions, and chatted with me while I used her stove, her pan, her spatula.  I dug thru her fridge and her cupboards.  And I thought, I think this makes Jesus happy.  I could feel his smile as I made myself at home in someone else's kitchen.

We talked, we laughed, we sipped, we chewed.  And our time together ended too quickly.

But I was privileged enough to get to make another mess, in another kitchen (this time my own), with someone else that I love.

My brother and I can rock the kitchen scene together.  I made shortcake while he, unwillingly, cleaned strawberries.  I made pasta with chorizo and broccoli rabe while he, willingly this time, made a salad with homemade dressing.  The ingredient list was extensive and one time he texted me the recipe which came thru to my phone in 13 messages.

13.

Nell sat at the island and chatted with us while we cooked.  Really, there is nothing I love more than sharing kitchen space with willing participants, whether they are spinning salads or spinning stories.

My cup runneth over today.

Which brings me to the not so good things.

I turned 33 two months ago.  Do you know what I always think when I hear of someone turning 33?  33 years was all the time Jesus got on earth.  If I was Jesus, this would be it.  If this was it for me, what kind of legacy would I leave?

I've been thinking about the fragility of life.  Which can be good and bad.  It makes you appreciate the small things.  The smell of honeysuckle.  The tight hugs from your babies.  The sound of your mom's laughter.  The mess you make in your kitchen with your friends late into the night.  The way you meet your husband's eyes across the room and know what he's thinking.

But sometimes the fragility of life feels crushing.  In the past several weeks I've visited my nephew in the hospital during his week long stay after his appendix burst.  My friend told me her mom's been diagnosed with cancer.  Someone else's baby needed open heart surgery.  I saw photos on Facebook of a little boy with cancer, robbed of his hair by chemo, curled up, trying to sleep thru the pain.  An older gentleman that I know fell and broke his neck.  I heard of a husband who died unexpectedly.

My family is whole and healthy.  And sometimes I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It's not a good place to be.  Sirens make me nervous in the afternoons when I know Larry is driving home.  Small bumps or lumps on my kids make my imagination kick into overdrive.  A strange feeling in my chest makes me wonder if my heart is working right.

All those bad things that happened to other people last month?  There is absolutely no reason why they couldn't happen to me.  It makes me want to shut down my heart and stop loving.  Loving people hurts.  That's the real and the raw of right now for me.

I am mostly having so much fun and at the same time I am aching with the heartache other people are facing.  And I am worrying about when it will be time for my heartache.  But maybe it will never be my time.  But there is no guarantee of that.

And the circle continues.  And I know that this is not how Jesus wants me to live.  He doesn't call me to hold my breath and wait for the other shoe to drop.

He calls me to abundant life.

The thief comes to steal and kill and destroy.

My peace.  My joy.  My trust.  Satan would take it all.

But Jesus.  He says, go make a mess in your kitchen.  Invite 400 people to come over.  Take leftovers to your friends.

Love deeply.  Give freely.  Trust wildly.

Let your cup run over.