|| Covered in life {..} and thankful.

It's like I'm covered in life. It's like it's wrapping me up. The memories of these past few days, when seen through eyes that are careful to beauty and gratitude, surround me like a blanket. I don't think I can quite say that as I look back over the past few months. Maybe with time. The moments of darkness and loneliness and ingratitude are like slaps in the face whenever it's their turn to swing past the door of my thoughts, or whenever they have latched themselves onto another particular memory or smell or song. Slaps in the face that bring me into an anxious place called choice. Where I can choose to allow that memory to be the reason why I am stuffing my face with raspberry pastries and spanakopita, or I can choose to let those memories be what usher me into the presence of the crucified Christ, as his Daddy turns his back on him,  because he's filled with my sin.
whoa. now that image is dusty and filled with wisdom.
Dusty like sleeves.
Like my sleeves today.
From digging up dandelions and cutting away young trees shoots and dried raspberry stalks. I am thankful for gardening gloves. And sunglasses that acted like safety goggles more than once...
And the smell of cinnamon, apples, nutmeg, cloves and maple syrup as it simmers down to apple butter.
And for cushions on wooden chairs.
And slippers.
I'm thankful for green tea, and clean dishcloths, and that sourdough comes off measuring cups after being soaked in water, and leftover party finger-food, and the book of Colossians. I'm thankful we can buy 20kg of bread flour for $14 and that I have hot water to wash the dirt off from between my toes, and that when I give Jesus my brokenness he gives me innocence and love. I'm thankful I have fingers so I can learn to play guitar, and that I can hear Audrey Assad's lyrics, and that I can read One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. I'm thankful that I don't have to be good enough, that I don't have to prove I am worthy, godly, polite, nice, strong, or lovely. I'm thankful for spaghetti with fresh basil and feta at 10:11pm on a cool Sunday night.

Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world. // Sarah Ban Breathnach

{..}By Being Amazed...

I realized I filled out my Starbucks application based on how I worked at Starbucks 2 years ago. I wonder...have I changed? There must have been some maturing that went on these past months. Then why do I feel that the same insecure, timid, people-pleasing girl is still behind these same brown eyes?
My fingers smell like garlic.
I made quinoa with sauteed onions, garlic, lemon juice, dill and crab meat for supper, which I just finished eating. Katherine, Keryn and I had made 4 loaves of artisan sourdough bread earlier today, so I had a thick slice of that (it was still warm from the oven) with goat cheese and local Three Hills honey. I also tossed a few raisins, dried apricots and fresh strawberries onto my plate. Oh, and a cup of vanilla soy milk. Delish. I ate it on the back balcony wrapped in an organic smelling blanket, listening to jazz: Art Blakey, Diana Krall, Miles Davis, Dizzy Gillespie...
It's raining. Or hailing. My slippers have rain drops on them. It's bouncing off the neighbour's metallic roof. It sounds like hundreds of little birds chirping. Or popcorn popping. Or ice cracking.
I went for a run in the rain this morning. It's awfully freeing to run in the rain, and through thick, cold, muddy puddles, and to end at the graveyard. Makes me think of the futility of amassing wealth and prestige, and the beauty and contentment and satisfaction found in running through puddles, and crafting loaves of bread, and sharing life while wrapped in an organic-smelling blanket. I was also reading some Anne Lamott:

Even the second person of the Trinity had to learn by doing, by failing, by feeling, by being amazed. God sent Jesus to join the human experience, which means to make a lot of mistakes. Jesus didn't arrive here knowing how to walk. He had fingers and toes, confusion, sexual feelings, crazy human internal processes. He had the same prejudices as the rest of his tribe: he had to learn that the Canaanite woman was a person. He had to suffer the hardships and tedium and setbacks of being a regular person. If he didn't, the Incarnation would mean nothing. - Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith

I'm learning to let go. To let go of needing to be needed. I think.
As I was saying, when I filled out my Starbucks application, my answers to questions were partially based off of who I was 2 years ago. Maybe I can reread my answers in a few months and see how much I have grown. I'm learning. I'm learning by doing, by failing, by feeling, and by being amazed.
Amazed at the flavors of quinoa, dill and crab; and fresh sourdough bread,goat cheese and honey. I'm amazed at the sound of hail on roofs and the feeling of rain on my face and in my shoes, and of course the smell of organic blanket.