Burnt Cookies & Hope

As I reflect upon this tragedy in Boston thus far, I am deeply saddened for all parties involved. I struggle to find words or to craft a status to share. But the truth is, no amount of words will make this situation any better. 

There is a term associated with such pain and heartache as this: splagnizomai. In Biblical times, it was used to describe that the insides of a person groan and hurt so much. It was also used to describe how Jesus felt: that when translated to modern, everyday language, it would be something like, "Jesus was "wrought with splagnizomai." I think it's safe to say that we all feel some sense of this "splagnizomai" -in one way or another: for our friends, our family, our spouse. And, it's true that we will probably never look at the world the same way again. However, we need to remember that in the midst of this "splagnizomai", there has been hope; people helping each other, lifting one another's spirits, and just listening.

So, though the pain seems like a really bad batch of poorly made chocolate chip cookies - it's important to know that in between the burnt pieces, there was something originally good. There was a cookie that was created by the baker to taste delicious with all of that rich chocolatey flavor when you bite into it, but became burnt because of our need to be the "baker." Remember that the original cookie, the original Boston marathon was created for good - and, though all of this "burnt" stuff occurred, there is still a part of the baker's original idea for a scrumptious cookie that remains among the rubble. It's our job now, (and it always has been) to search for that "good" piece of the cookie - to pick it up and share it with others.

In short - FIND the cookie, CARE for the cookie, BE the cookie.
Cheers.

Sunsets and Long Rides Home

I had coffee with a friend in the late afternoon today. We began to catch up on each other's lives. She spoke much wisdom into my life.

One of the things that she mentioned that really made me think was this concept of the "innocence of youth". As a child, I was grateful that I did not have to worry about where my next meal was going to come from. I would go to the bakery with my dad and choose one item from behind the glass counters. It would always be the biggest chocolate chip cookie. Then, I broke the cookie in half, carefully measuring each piece side-by-side, to make sure that I would always get the bigger half. We conversed about how kids typically do not have to worry about "adult sized" situations and that you gradually acquire more responsibilities as you get older. However, I am gently reminded that not all kids have this luxury of a carefree childhood. Some children are forced to grow up fast, to become adults quickly, and to face life head on at a very, very young age.

Throughout sips of hazelnut coffee with honey and spoonfuls of of tomato soup, I shared about my long drive home. I have this obsession (well, maybe it's a hobby, really), of taking pictures of sunsets. My family and I were returning home from visiting family for the day and there was this beautiful sunset that guided our way. The sunset was gray and cloudy on the right side, with a yellow streak speckled with pink and blue on the left side. Oh, how I so longed to snap a picture of the part of the sunset that had color!

As we drove, I saw a beautiful strip of pink ahead. I wanted a picture of that, too! I was struck by the thought: sometimes, I want to be in the vicinity of the color when the reality is that I have to first travel through the gray clouds. I can't just accelerate my car to snap a picture of the yellow and speckles in hopes of arriving faster to the pink. The gray clouds are a journey that I am required to participate in, the yellow and speckles are the hope that takes my hand, and the pink, ah, the pink, is the promise that sits patiently waiting for me to arrive.

See, I can't hurry through a journey. It's simply not the destination that matters; it's all of the experiences in between that help to shape the outcome of the journey. It's those vital and important pieces that form your identity and make you the person that you were created to be.

So, as I travel in my car of life, with the gray on my right and the color on my left, and the pink straight ahead, I am reminded that I am loved. So, here's some questions that I have pondered and you might, too:

-What are you waiting for?
-What & where are your "gray clouds?"
-What are the "yellow and speckled colors" of hope in your life?
-What's the pink promise that lay ahead?

And finally, how do you feel about waiting?