Today, my mind is wondering about this new initiative to get healthy food into children. Something in me becomes offended at the sight of someone saying that my love handles come from unhealthy eating. As I sit here well now into my forties, I recall that these extra pounds came from something else. They came from poverty. They came from running to the table for seconds because there was never enough in the first place. I remember that sinking feeling when you ate, that there was not enough to really get you full. I remember always running out of food and then I remember the hungry days. Those were the days when we would try to make up for not having by overeating when we had it. Food was not taken in for nourishment. Food was the only luxury we could afford. Fresh fruit was a goldmine conveniently placed in a can. Food lost it’s rhythm. Now, people fry chicken on Tuesday and eat bacon on Thursday. What happened to a lifestyle where you did not eat like a king everyday and that was alright because Sunday was coming. Poverty left us scratching like chickens for every grain with no restraint. We ate for tomorrow was not promised. It is funny how people assume your fat simply because you ate too much.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Perfection
When I was a child, I played a game called “Perfection”. It was a game where you had to put all the little pieces into the corresponding slots before your time ran out. If you can manage to do that, then you reached perfection. As I come into my forties and find that life has to be a bit slower than when I was ten years younger, “Perfection” is no longer my goal. I am not trying to be perfect because “Perfect” is no longer attainable for me. My hair is so thin that it now comes in cellophane bags. Half my teeth are in a jar. I love my girdle and most of my beauty is contained in jars and bottles. The strength I had to go the extra mile has been shortened to the extra half a mile. Despite the fact that perfection can no longer be a goal, I still believe that life is ultimately enjoyable. I still lick the plate of life and drain the cup. Paradise is still attainable even if paradise is not perfection. The whole of my existence now, is to live the life I have until my body refuses to live anymore. Whatever portion of my health and sanity that is left will be filled with the beauty of God and I will cherish each moment, even if my hair comes in a bag and my beauty comes in a jar.
Stones of Rememberance
This morning, my mind is on bringing back the stones. Joshua told the people to set up stones of remembrance. I don't know what it is about people that when they get across the Jordan of their lives, the want to forget the God that brought them through it and everybody else. Man would love to give himself credit where credit is not warranted. In every arena of life, you have to understand that you never would have made it without help from someone, even if that someone is God. It behooves us to never forget the assistance of the Lord. I love the Catholic prayer that says, "Come to my assistance, make haste to help me". I realize in this morning, that I am dependent on God more than you know. I need him every hour. I need him more than the air I breathe. The cross I wear on my neck reminds me of how much I needed him and how much I still need him. The cross is my stone of remembrance.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)