02 November 2009

Comment Hog

So, I may have mentioned (eee NY Times!) that I was writing a book... It will be a 90-day devotional aimed at women who are struggling through a separation or who feel alone in their marriage. I went to a writer's conference a few weekends ago and thought of a lot of things... and then when I posted a simple post about my temporal joys I got a bunch (for me and my lonely blog) of kind and interesting comments. So in the interest of writing for my book and getting more interaction and followers, I am going to post more of "my story." Before I get going, if there were any requests, leave your idea.

I wrote a while back about a well-timed chicken salad. So today I wanted to post a little story about a well-timed grilled-cheese sandwich. What? On a blog about growing spiritually? Yes. (although I'm starting to think my love language is food.)

When I was pregnant with my third child, I was just beginning this crummy walk of faith, and I was still in the "Lord, take this cup away from me! Change HIM and make my life easy and fun!" phase (I did that for a year).

I was struggling with the hours my husband was keeping and our finances and living in a no A/C, cockroach and rat-inhabited house. I was only eating five things during that pregnancy: broccoli, cookie dough, Tricuits and cheddar, soymilk, or turkey sandwiches with lots of baby greens. To make this story make sense, I have to divulge a little idiosyncrasy about myself: I like symmetrical food. If I get a sandwich or a burger, even an omelette or something, I rearrange it so that it's symmetrical. That means I have mustard and beef and lettuce and tomato in each bite, and not too much bread in comparison. I actually use the word ratio when James asks me why I leave things out. I know. We all have our quirks, ok?

One night he was home early and the kids were in bed and the house was quiet, and I was tired. He asked me if I wanted anything to eat. He was listing off the foods he could make me from what we had available in the fridge and pantry... I was melancholy, rejecting them one after the other. He said, "I could make you a grilled-cheese sandwich." I perked up a little, but faded as I explained "I like it a certain way..." and he goes "I know how you like it." I expressed some doubt and he listed off, instantly and correctly, just how I like it (It's a lot of detail and symmetry, ok?).

Right away I welled up with grateful tears. He knew? He knew! Hiding in this stranger was a man I used to know. A man who knew me. It gave me a lift of hope that we would find our way to friends again.

1 comments:

Tonya said...

Just spent some time on your blog. So nice to "meet" you. Thanks for sharing your heart so openly. I'm sure it touches more than you know!