A New Way to Live

Days dawn bright with many possibilities, many things to do.  A list waits on my dresser; part of it leftover from yesterday, a new one to make today, to add to things I didn't accomplish yesterday.  Tomorrow, another list.  It will never end.  There is more to life.  I can feel it.  More than just waiting till evening, till the weekend, till I have my own place, till I'm married....  That is just another kind of list.  A list of things I'm waiting for and, many of them, can do nothing about.  But there is another way to live.  I just know it!

Peace in every moment.  A deep excitement that cannot be explained.  Energy pulsing in my body.  Anticipating things to come, yet relishing every second I live in.

The sky opens to me and light pours down.  I close my eyes.  My heart feels warmer.  I have a desire to put on a coat and go explore the last of the fall leaves on the tall oak beside my front door.  Anticipation wells up like a slowly rising stream.  I reach out to inspiration and inspiration reaches back.  My heart opens, blooms and accepts the rays of the sun.  Peace has come.

Mango Zing Satisfaction

Rain poured down the windows like a piece of silver silk rippling in the wind.  The sky had grown dark only moments before, then suddenly the rain had come like water being dumped out of a bucket.
The house was dark now, except for the two lights I had turned on.  All windows were shut tight against the flash storm.

Hmm.  My jigsaw puzzle was at a standstill, when my tummy rumbled.  Mangos!  I had two of them.  What a delicious before-dinner treat.

I went to the kitchen and found my peeler, a knife and a cutting board.  Then I went to work.  Take the peels off of the delicious teardrop-shaped fruit.

Perhaps it would be better to call them raindrop-shaped today, I smiled.

I took my knife and sliced the fruit, then cut it off of the long, thin seed.

I like nothing better than sweet and savory together, and my boyfriend's mother had just introduced me to sliced mango with a lime chili seasoning.

Chili powder, red pepper, lime juice and garlic salt came from my kitchen cupboards.  Like little soldiers I lined them up.  Ok, chili powder first.  Mm, tastes like smokey on sweet.  Add some lime juice.  Tangy with smokey on sweet.  Pretty good, but I think I can make it better.  A little garlic salt should bring out the savory in the spices to balance out the sweet, juicy mango.

Yep, that's it!  I found the perfect spice combo.  My spicy fruit quickly disappeared as my fork zoomed back and forth from my bowl to my mouth.  The succulent mango melted into zingy juice in my mouth.  How soft.  How luscious.  How absolutely delicious!  Perfect snack for my rumbling tummy.  Mmm, satisfaction is here.

Another delicious and much quicker alternative is Tajin Clasico Seasoning with Lime.  If you don't have a boyfriend with a Hispanic mother to buy it for you like I did, you can find it in Wal-Mart near the fresh fruit or in the Spanish foods aisle.  You could also find it in a Mexican food store.

*     *     *

These handy spice carousels have the perfect combination of spices that every kitchen needs, and it looks great on your counter too! This wonderful Kamenstein Stainless Steel Spice Tower will cut down on the time it takes you to gather ingredients for many fabulous meats, soups, side dishes and even the great chili garlic combo listed above, delicious sprinkled on mangos, sliced watermelon, cucumber or jicama. Add some zing to your life with this great-looking piece that will add convenience and beauty to your kitchen.

A God-sized Sigh

After I posted my poem the other day, what are the odds I'd find this quote:

"God is an unutterable sigh, planted in the depths of the soul."
  -Jean Paul Richter

With One Deep Sigh

One deep sigh...

God, you wrap me in your arms

Your love--like warm sunshine and melting chocolate--

Floods my soul with your warmth

I feel protected

I feel loved

I feel sheltered

And always taken care of

With one deep sigh I rest myself against you

Carolina Girl

A warm North Carolina day awaited me when I finally stepped outside. I jumped in my car and headed out to buy the little George Foreman with the missing drip tray from the thrift shop called Jacob's Sales at the end of my road.

When I walked in, a gaggle of women were playing cards around the wooden checkout counter and talking louder than an industry-sized chicken coop full of laying hens.

I headed right to the back where I had found my little prize the day before and carried it businesslike to the front, already pulling the five dollars cash from my purse.

"Hey, girl! You found it. I hid that thing, and you found it."

One of the women started slapping me in the arm. She already had a George Foreman at home I found out but hid this one in the store so she could have a second one? I don't know. But she acted like I was her best friend even though she had never met me before, and everyone in the circle gave me advice on how to clean my grill and what to cook on it.

I walked out and soaked in the heat of the day, feeling like a true Carolina girl.

Light

That night I lay on the floor in my room, crying from the aggravation of the pain. I wanted some kind of relief. A blue towel on navy blue carpet was all I could see. My nose pressed against the rough material. The towel needed to be washed. I didn't know what to pray or what to say. Every prayer technique I had ever learned seemed so worthless at times like this.

"I don't even know what to say," I moaned.

I had tried praying all my life, and few were the times that I had ever had confidence that I would get an answer. But then a voice came to me and said, "Ask me for my promise. Ask me to give it to you."

Promise? Oh. I remembered...Behold, I will do a new thing. Now will I do it; shall ye not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. The promise that had come to me earlier, he wanted me to ask him to give it to me. Asking God for a promise he had already given me didn't make any sense. Then he said,

"I am teaching you how to pray. Ask me for my promise."

And so I did.

Then he told me, "Get up and get something to eat."

In a few minutes I returned to my room with a plate of cold meat, cheese, and grapes. I ate as one who had been fasting, completely enjoying each morsel. In my heart now was a certainty that God would answer. He burned a foreign truth into my heart that night: When you speak, I hear. You have my heart. Your words are the command that makes resistance die, that makes good spring forth; for as my child, you have the same power as my Son. That's why he died.

That night, I got off the floor, fed myself and took rest as the daughter of God, confident that he would answer every prayer I prayed. I would speak now as his daughter instead of speaking to convince him that he should answer my prayer. I had his heart. I was my Daddy's girl.

Golden Promises

The sun rose like a golden god over the horizon. Yellow rays of gold like fine chains on a woman's necklace shot through the pines. Computer and pancakes. Coffee and sliced pears. Breakfast by the living room window while typing on my PC was supposed to inspire me for the day, yet I still felt this dull ache in the back of my throat, like something was slowly squeezing it, not to kill, but to slowly suffocate. The tension had been there for 10 days now. Was it going to end? When? How long could I survive with this feeling of stifled life in me?

Then the promise came. "I will do a new thing. Now it shall spring forth. Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." The feeling was still there, but the promise had come.