So about the depression food I blogged about in my last entry…
I was wrong!
I had made a bunch of delicious experimental popovers and was sure that I had to throw them out and was freezing them in vain. But guess what I’m chewing on now! Yup. A re-warmed popover. And you know what? It’s still crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside. Although the chewiness is a little more prominent than it was before, but I think I might like it that way.
Today, someone sent me a pot of poinsettias. They were beautiful. They were in a sturdy reusable shopping bag and there was a little handwritten note attached to it on a small index card folded over itself. It was from the father of one of my graduates. And also inside the bag was a little cardboard box filled with little snacks that you would pack for your “I miss you while you’re in college” daughter. Little snack bags of Cheetos (my favorite!), peanuts, some Fritos, and a little ramen packet. I didn’t care that it was chicken flavored. I broke down and cried.
I must’ve had a lot of pent up tears inside, because let me tell you, lo! it was like the floodgates opened. I wept.
I wept about the thought that someone out there cared about me. That as much as I was pouring myself out and caring for these kids, that someone also thought to care about me. I wept at the feeling of being a child again, and the feelings of innocence and hope it used to carry that came rushing back. I wept at the idea that maybe, must maybe, this world wasn’t such an alienating place and that I could stick my feet out and be taken care of. I wept at all the stress and pain I’ve been through the past few months and how the past few days have been a balm of Gilead for me. I wept at the fact that I could finally love my kids and love my job again, and that it wasn’t all in vain, and that I am making a difference…
This crying session didn’t last the 3 minutes it usually does. And I let myself do it. Thanking God for preserving me, as He always does. For protecting me and taking care of me better than anyone ever could, and better than I’ve attempted to do for myself. There’s a lot in this world I have yet to learn, and a lot of things I’ll continue to be wrong about. But with God within me, and beside me, and over me, what have I to fear? What will separate me from the love of God?
My heart can only respond in gratitude and utter humility. Because I did nothing to deserve it, and I had nothing to offer or promote it.
Funny how little gestures can impact a life, eh?
Do something nice for a teacher who impacted your life. I’m telling you, it’s what we live for.
<insert gratuitous picture of a baby crying>
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