It was Valentine's Day a few days ago and it went by neglected on this blog. Many things have been neglected in my life. And many things have had much attention. These are all things that I attach a very neutral value to. As long as I'm learning, I'm happy. 

I had the opportunity to call the women I love most in the world this past Tuesday: my mother and my sister. Of all the people in the world, I believe that these two are the ones that influenced me and shaped me the most. I see their example and their guidance in the way I think and approach the world, in my treatment of others, and in the inner workings of my heart. Other than the other-worldly Jesus, the Love of my life, the (often rough) tutelage I received under these women made me who I am now.

Although... I'm pretty sure the martyr spirit in me that wants to champion the undertrodden and fight for the neglected... I'm pretty sure that one came from my dad. At least the martyr part. It's a dangerous part of me but it's the part that got me where I am now professionally and perhaps even spiritually. 

Anyway, I called them because I love having excuses to tell people I love and appreciate them. Even better are times that are completely spontaneous. Who needs another commercially-driven holiday to be cookie-cutter robotic lovers? Not me. But I'll take my chocolate and often self-bought flowers, thank you very much.

Speaking of chocolate and flowers.... I read these articles recently in The Atlantic about the flower industry and how there's a 1 in 12 chance that the flowers in shops were cut by child laborers. 90% of flowers sold were imported from Ecuador or Columbia. Granted, not all of these flowers are cut by poor little children, but the adult laborers aren't exactly getting health insurance either. That got me mad. First of all, that we spend 1.7 billion dollars towards one day for things that will wilt away after a few days, and second, that I can't do much about it. What will I do, boycott flowers like I'm boycotting Walmart? Sure, Walmart won't crumble because they're losing my monthly grocery bill to Martin's, but it's the principle of the thing. I hate that I live in a world that is so driven by commercial demand. Making sure I make my flowers last the longest (drying/cutting) is small consolation.  

And now on to chocolate! Same deal. Africa produces 70% of the world's cocoa, most of it with cheap labor. The article is interesting, but my point is this: life is difficult for my spirit. I want to at once champion the causes of all the downtrodden in this world, and at the same time, a voice in my head reasonably tells me that (a) I am hopelessly Western-minded and (b) I won't make a dent. (Unfortunately, the second point never stops me from doing anything. Note Walmart example.)

So what now? Shall I stop buying flowers and quit my chocolate cravings? Shall I picket in front of flower stands in supermarkets and hand out fliers about child laborers? Believe me, part of me wants to. But you know what moderates me? Television. OK, better put, education. Explanation: when I was much younger (I believe I was in high school), I watched this series on this news program. Every day they explored some facet of food. The first day was about how meat packing was gross and how the processing and handling of meat in markets and even in restaurants were appalling. OK. I can stop eating meat. The next day was about eating out. Even top-tier restaurants are gross. OK. I can stop eating out, my adolescent mind reasoned. The next day was about vegetables sold in supermarkets. I was starting to get uncomfortable. OK, I can grow my own stuff. The next day was about soil conditions and water quality that would impact gardens. I was close to deciding not to eat anything at all for the rest of my life. 

I believe there are things that can be done to better our lives and better the lives of others. I believe that we are compelled to do this, especially as Christians who claim to follow Christ and have been created in His image. I believe that we ought to do our best to be engaged in service and social justice. I want to support causes and do my best to protect humanity. I don't think that it looks like simple boycotting. Because as much as my withdrawal of support of Walmart draws questions and teaching opportunities, it doesn't change lives. And that's what I want. I want to change lives. I want to change the world.

I don't know how I got here from a Valentine's Day post. I don't know how I'll change the world. But I believe education has a lot to do with it. And I don't care where I am, or how I'm doing it, but I want to do what I am doing with joy and fervor. Because God is my Employer (whew. And my teacher. Boy do I remember the lessons I learned during that time.) Because He is enough for me (I lectured my girls on this on Valentine's Day. "Don't get into a relationship unless God is enough for you first!") Because God's vision is different from my vision, and I trust Him. He never did me harm. He always sustained me. He always fulfilled me. He always gave me what I needed.

I trust that will never change. Because He never changes. Because His love for me was the only constant in my life, even while my moods and inclinations and heart changed.   

So today, I am grateful for God. My bedrock. My strong tower. My fortress. Today is a Psalm 91 day. (The link jumps to the Message/New American Standard parallel. My dad made us all memorize this when I was a kid. It'll take a little relearning.)

Here's to God being enough, and here's to all the other beautiful loves in life. 

O Hound of Heaven, how I have found that relenting to Your ragged breath on my back has resulted in such bliss... it is not the lion that ravaged my soul, but a lamb.

“But the great thing to remember is that, though our feelings come and go, His love for us does not. It is not wearied by our sins, or our indifference; and, therefore, it is quite relentless in its determination that we shall be cured of those sins, at whatever cost to us, at whatever cost to Him.” -CS Lewis, Mere Christianity

Depression food uses the staples. Flour. Egg. Milk. Salt. I think most of those things are luxuries in a depression. At least it doesn't call for much butter (although I added some, not Paula Dean style, however.) Popovers are like depression food having a little party for itself. It's simple, small, but it looks huge. It kinda blows up in the oven but the actual content... mostly air... 

I've been resorting to compulsions. Weird routines (actually, no routines.) Pistachios. Baking. Avoidance. Weird fits of... stuff. It's all very messy. What's happening to me? 

I made gluten-free brownies again for my kids (I'm thinking I'll give them something every day of the week until break comes, or until I break.) I made experimental popovers. They were perfect. But I have nothing to do with the whole batch but to freeze them, and ultimately I will have to throw them out (I know my own habits. These are true depression popovers. :P ) I am planning to make spinach pinwheels for guests on Friday (I'm skipping the popovers bc it would seem like carb overload since I'll probably make banana bread as well.) I just want to bake and cook and bake and cook but I totally lost my appetite. I don't want to eat anything I make. I stopped coming home for lunch. These babies do not have the siren call loud enough for me to heed... especially if they have to be reheated. 

I think I'm losing my mind. I won't let myself count down because 6 full days is still too long. I feel as though I'm holding my head above a rapidly rising water level and the water is starting to ripple into my nostrils. It doesn't help that I saw that movie.. 127? Something? Hours. The one where the guy gets his arm caught in a boulder and he hacks it off with a dull blade (uh, I'd say spoiler alert, but I'm pretty sure it's not a surprise.) He says it's like his whole life was gearing towards that moment. Destiny. I don't believe in that kind of life. I do believe, however, in Interventions. And Help. And... hope. And if that comes in the form of a dull blade... so be it? Is that how it's supposed to work? Is cutting through that nerve bundle worth it? I guess you'd never know until you've tried. Analogies fail when you try to apply it to real life. Sometimes a rock is just a rock. 

This year was supposed to be the Year of Yes, and instead it is turning into the Year of BLT. BareLy There. That's right. Nothing to do with bacon. And the "ly" is so powerful it's capitalized within the word. I think I've tripped over myself so many times, and I am starting to distrust every other decision I've been making... I feel as though I'm moving on, but without my arm, or leg, or something I always thought I needed. Does He know what He's doing? Or am I just stupid?  

 I changed my layout. Just a little. Reflective of the mood. Goodbye yellow Gerbera. Hello, winter. In the meantime, I am hanging in. And waiting. And hoping.