Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The Pink Spoon Shadow

Peaches. Mango. Strawberries. Blueberries. Pineapple. Tangerines. Those are all the toppings I put on my $5 and change amount of frozen yogurt this evening. There is no denying the deliciousness of my treat. Momentarily the flavor rush shadowed the reality of calories, and so much more.

At this time along the Somalia-Kenya border there is a refugee camp fit to hold 90,000 refugees topping out with a population of over 400,000 and growing. Why are the people there? A compounded problem involving famine, drought, and lawlessness has resulted in hunger and, consequently, death for an alarming amount of people, young and old. Photos of the stark realities Somalians are facing litters the television and computer screen. I can't quite verbalize the impact of the photos. You can see the hopelessness in the refugees' eyes. It's hard to not turn away. I don't often internalize global strife of which I am so far removed. This time is different. Seeing children in such dire agony, so near Death's relentless grasp, and not being able to grab them first and wrap their little bodies in sustenance and love just breaks me to pieces.

I pray for relief for those suffering throughout the world. Especially those suffering from hunger in Africa. I pray my plentiful life does not shadow my eyes from seeing, my heart from feeling, and my hands from doing.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

My Dog's Identity Crisis

Yes, you read correctly. My dog is having an identity crisis. Or so we think.

Last week my husband and I agreed to watch our friends' dog for a few days. They thanked us repeatedly, as if we really had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, but they didn't know how excited I really was. I love animals, just not the slimy ones. If I had more space (inside and outside of our home) I'd have as many dogs as I could tolerate, and an equal amount of cats.

Berkley, our guest, and Koda, our resident canine, are the same age and kept themselves occupied with jumping, following, biting, wrestling, licking, and the occasional nap.  Then Berkley left.

Koda has never been one that responded to his name. In fact, he prefers to run wildly throughout the neighborhood without a leash only to return when he feels so inclined rather than respond to his name. I can't really recall what led to this, but I decided to call out "Berkley" as I would Koda's given name just to see how he'd react to the absence of his friend. Well, you would have thought I called out an unlimited supply of T-R-E-A-T-S by the way he reacted!

Koda thinks he is Berkley. It's either that or he is in puppy love.


Moving to North Carolina was one of the biggest changes in my life. Oftentimes I look around, sweating under the summer sun, and think about how crazy it is that I ended up here, in the South, when I always thought I'd remain near my Yankee roots. Then I realize my wonder isn't necessarily sparked by that life change, but by my (seemingly) sudden presence in adulthood. Much to my own bewilderment, as a child I always wanted to be an adult. Now that I am one, I don't want it anymore. Adulthood. It's not that I desire to be six again, but I want the freedom, the innocence, the ignorance to the ways of this world and its ability to bruise.

I saw two kids, perhaps around five, in Walmart the other day; one boy and one girl. The boy was wide-eyed approaching a display of fresh fruit that was successfully luring him in. The girl drifted behind, consumed with giggles and twirling her body around while watching her blue and white skirt follow. For a moment I wanted to toss down my list, allow the cart to wander off, and spin too.

I don't understand why I keep returning to this topic: my dread of the monotony of being an adult. Please don't mistake this post as a sign of my unhappiness or regret, even. I am very happy and very blessed. I do wish I would remember God's promises more and trust the prevailing of His will in my life if I just let it happen. Aside from that, I wouldn't change a thing.

Other than wishing for the social acceptance of public swirling no matter what the age of the swirler.