Waiting

            “Waiting, waiting . . . we are waiting, Lord”:  these are words from a Pepper Choplin Christmas cantata that run through my mind as we wait for the birth of Joelle.

            I have felt her kick or push against my palm and watched her ripple under the surface of taut skin.  I have seen her mother—my daughter—wince and stop in mid-stride as Joelle shifts positions and hits a nerve. 

            Dana, Shawn, and I talk and plan for the days ahead.  I have written directions for my driving destinations, the recipe for Benjamin’s oatmeal (with added applesauce and peanut butter), and the verses for his favorite song.  I know the routine for naptime and bedtime and mealtimes.  I have helped him into his highchair and into his car booster seat.  I can read his signs of sleepiness and frustration.  I don’t know much about signing, though.  It’s a good thing he understands plain English.

            Waiting is full of preparation and promise and questions.  We know and don’t know that for which we wait:  What will Joelle look like?  What will her personality be like?  How will Benjamin respond to her?  What changes are ahead in family dynamics?  We plan and prepare for the details of the days (and nights) ahead, excited about and a little scared of the unknown. 

            All of these things make me think about the waiting Mary and Joseph went through as they prepared themselves to receive Jesus.  I think also of our waiting for Christ’s return:  we don’t know when it will be or what it will look like, but we know everything will change.   We are waiting, Lord.

Dream Houses

            She needed to borrow my house for a while.  Not the house I owned down the street, but the house I was living in presently.  Thus, I would swap houses for a time.

            The other house was vacant and in disrepair.  For unknown reasons, I had neither sold nor rented it.  And now my son and I would occupy it again.

            As Jean settled into my current home, I went to check out my former home.  I remembered its odd floor plan and the disarray in which I had left it.  Still, walking through, I saw it through new eyes.

            The main room and kitchen, though small and shabby, were serviceable.  From there I walked up the stairs to my old bedroom.  Immediately, memories of a long-ago contentment enveloped me.  How had I forgotten the cityscape from my two walls of windows?  And the built-in shelves and drawers that lined the long corridor of the walk-in closet?

            My children’s rooms were still filled with their clothing and toys.  I thought about having a yard sale and sending the proceeds from Dana’s stuff to her.  Joseph would stay in his old room, and I doubted he would want to get rid of anything.

            I decided to go down to the basement, but the stairs were sheared off.  I looked below and saw years of accumulation stacked in long rows.   Darting around on that damp cement floor were several of Jack’s cats which must have been left behind.  They seemed healthy and content.  It would be dangerous, if not impossible, to reach the basement without the stairs intact.  No problem:  there was no reason for me to enter that crowded, confused space again.  The important thing was to carefully lock the door at the top of the stairs so that no one would get hurt trying to go down.  Some messes cannot be cleaned up and must be left--a fact which I calmly accepted for the first time.

            And then I woke up.

Milkshake Inspiration

            All that kept me from a fast food drive through last night after choir was a handful of pumpkin seeds and the thought of making my own milkshake at home.

            After “the long and winding road” of my drive down the island, my stomach still grumbling, I quickly gathered the ingredients:  vanilla almond milk, unsweetened cocoa powder, and chunks of frozen banana.  Into the Blendtec they went, and in less than thirty seconds my delicious, nutritious milkshake was ready.

            The high-speed commercial blender my Kentucky brother (who operates a used restaurant equipment business) gave me for Christmas has quickly become my favorite kitchen appliance.  It’s big and ugly and efficient and easy to clean.  In seconds, water, spinach leaves, and frozen apple slices become a sweet, smooth juice.  My morning favorite is milk, spinach, frozen banana, ground flaxseed, and whey protein.  One day I experimented by adding an avocado and ended up with a luscious light-green mousse.

            The digital display tells me that this lovely monster of a machine used to blend beverages at a Starbucks.  Funny that I have not yet made a coffee drink in this blender.  A mid-morning mocha might be just the thing.  But I think I’ll leave out the spinach.