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.


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!