I burned my breakfast this morning. I make the same thing with some minor variations every morning. I saute sliced zucchini, asparagus, mushrooms or whatever veggies I may have on hand and then make a one egg and three egg white omelet. I slice some avocado, sprinkle some sharp cheddar cheese, dash some Frank's hot sauce on the top and finish it with a dollop of sour cream. Often I will add some fresh fruit to the plate and then I feast. For years I skipped breakfast. Then I read that skipping meals can make your body think it is starving, thus it holds on to every ounce of fat reserve so it can outlast the famine. Like I need its help in maintaining fat. Me, who can draw calories from the aroma of food cooking. I did my research and I began eating just a little something. In all honesty I felt better through the day. Then I was given medication to take in the morning with instructions to take it after eating a meal. Now I eat a huge breakfast. Between eating well and the new medication, I feel pretty spunky these days. This morning though I am a bit scattered and pensive. My omelet got scathed in the process.
Unfortunately, I didn't burn the vegetables enough to justify throwing them out and starting over. I wish I had because I knew I wouldn't like the taste of my omelet using the blackened asparagus and mushrooms. It would be perfectly edible and not so disgusting as to make me gag, but it would have the charcoalesque taste of food ignored too long on the stove. For me, there's not enough Franks in the local Kroger to disguise that kind of nastiness. I should have thrown things out and started over but I was feeling guilty because I walked away from the stove. I made the choice to go into another room and become involved in something. I set up the recipe for a disastrous breakfast meal. It was all my fault. I have to pay the consequences.
I had a conversation with my sister yesterday. She was relaying some of the joys of communicating with a husband. She is hearing her daughter's stories about the pitfalls of life with a man and trying to impart wisdom to her; things hard learned in that last twenty-five plus years. She had me in stitches as she relayed the challenges and then she said something that stuck with me. She said her daughter was too busy being mad to listen right now. My sister was trying to feed my niece a morsel from the secret of a happy life cake she has baked and my niece wanted to eat a scorched omelet. She wants to live with being annoyed because it seems easier than working for what she wants.
Funny how God is able to hold up a mirror when you're laughing at someone else's folly so you can see yourself; how your behavior is exponentially sillier than that of the person you are laughing at. The ladies bible study I attend has been reading a book on prayer that I wouldn't recommend. I think it is very feelings oriented in its approach to prayer and how to relate to God. However, that said, it has stretched me. God has used the book with all of its faults to demonstrate to me how begrudgingly I come to him. I want to be miserable in my situation because asking Him to change anything could be worse. He might not answer the way I think He should. He might not change my circumstances at all. He might change me and what if he changed the things I like about myself? Then it hit me. What if I am putting my soul into starvation mode because I am not seeking the nourishment that only spending time being vulnerable with God provide? Is He offering me cake and I am content to choke down scorched omelet? Am I hanging on to what is easier and comfortable rather than to ask for what I want? Do I know what my soul longs for?
Rosemarie, if you want something different you must do something different. Ugh. I hate being pensive. No deep thought goes unpunished. I am so fearful of being disappointed. What if I change and nothing comes of it? What if I do something different and the same old stuff keeps happening? What if I am just too stupid to know what to do? What if I really can't be honest with myself? Confrontation is only valuable when it is linked to the solution. Self-confrontation without offering solutions is a recipe for hopelessness. I don't need more of that.
Oh dear God, get me out of this cycle of thought! Sigh. If only I hadn't burned the omelet....