There are going to be a lot of leftovers next Friday after Thanksgiving! I sure hope so because I plan for them. I hope for them. I love cold turkey with mayo and mustard with a side of sweet potatoes and maybe some cheesy broccoli cauliflower casserole. These quick leftovers goes well with a comfy cozy couch and a movie. Those Thanksgiving leftovers serve a purpose.
I also have some other leftovers in my busy life that I give less credence to their purpose, but I'm trying to slow it down and hold my hand out the car window to feel the breeze call me to purpose all my moments.
I thought about this recently after visiting the foot doctor. I found out my foot pain that I was hoping would go away for months was caused by a tailor's bunion. When the doctor relayed it wasn't caused by something I had done but probably genetics, I smiled for the first time about the pain. My mind pulled a leftover memory from storage. I pictured 5 boxes of shoes at my grandma's feet she was trying on as I sat quietly next to her in JC Penney. She sought a pair that didn't hurt her bunion ridden feet. I still remember my young, untangled-in-life mind wondering over her choices. I certainly thought she could find a pair that fit but also looked good.
It didn't really make me feel better to be able to blame something that caused me such pain on my grandma. But then my mind's eyes held close her writings, recipe book, her needlepoint, and other items that were leftover to me which bring to life the person that she was to me.
My eyes don't mirror her brown eyes or brown hair. But the hat I wear to keep the sun off my face, the wide shoe front I seek, those graham crackers in the cupboard, the chill I seem to have through three seasons, the ever present sinus allergies, the love of music, the hold your tongue endurance....
The ride home from the doctor found me thinking of things that have been leftover and passed down from one life to another, to those things I will have leftover for the next generation. I now feel more akin to that quiet elegance I found in her smile as a kid. I know her woven faith as a strength because I've taken a bit of her weave that had steadfast faith in her God and her people even in the midst of disappointment and difficulty.
What will be my leftovers from the table of my life? A collection of trinkets, photos, allergies, and words on this blog will be easy to spot as being leftover from me. Makes me wonder what I'm serving and giving to the now. My one life's ride is made of a million little moments meshed into an amazing weave. Each tomorrow might prove it to gain holes, frays, pulls, or fringe, so what of the tapestry will be my leftover?
I'm thankful for my grandma's leftovers. They remind me to plan for and purpose my moments for leftovers.
I also have some other leftovers in my busy life that I give less credence to their purpose, but I'm trying to slow it down and hold my hand out the car window to feel the breeze call me to purpose all my moments.
I thought about this recently after visiting the foot doctor. I found out my foot pain that I was hoping would go away for months was caused by a tailor's bunion. When the doctor relayed it wasn't caused by something I had done but probably genetics, I smiled for the first time about the pain. My mind pulled a leftover memory from storage. I pictured 5 boxes of shoes at my grandma's feet she was trying on as I sat quietly next to her in JC Penney. She sought a pair that didn't hurt her bunion ridden feet. I still remember my young, untangled-in-life mind wondering over her choices. I certainly thought she could find a pair that fit but also looked good.
It didn't really make me feel better to be able to blame something that caused me such pain on my grandma. But then my mind's eyes held close her writings, recipe book, her needlepoint, and other items that were leftover to me which bring to life the person that she was to me.
My eyes don't mirror her brown eyes or brown hair. But the hat I wear to keep the sun off my face, the wide shoe front I seek, those graham crackers in the cupboard, the chill I seem to have through three seasons, the ever present sinus allergies, the love of music, the hold your tongue endurance....
The ride home from the doctor found me thinking of things that have been leftover and passed down from one life to another, to those things I will have leftover for the next generation. I now feel more akin to that quiet elegance I found in her smile as a kid. I know her woven faith as a strength because I've taken a bit of her weave that had steadfast faith in her God and her people even in the midst of disappointment and difficulty.
What will be my leftovers from the table of my life? A collection of trinkets, photos, allergies, and words on this blog will be easy to spot as being leftover from me. Makes me wonder what I'm serving and giving to the now. My one life's ride is made of a million little moments meshed into an amazing weave. Each tomorrow might prove it to gain holes, frays, pulls, or fringe, so what of the tapestry will be my leftover?
I'm thankful for my grandma's leftovers. They remind me to plan for and purpose my moments for leftovers.
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