when life gives you onions…
Sometimes I feel like all I do is wait. Wait for life to happen. Wait for life to begin. Wait for life to stop. I could just will myself to the end of the line sometimes, to at least feel like I knew where I was heading… and if I could handle it. And if God didn’t prevent me from doing that, I probably would have a long time ago. Sometimes I silently protest against the onward march of reality by just refusing to face it anymore. I silently refuse to say what I should have said, to do what I should have done.
I was thinking about this tonight while chopping onions. As you might expect, my eyes started smarting. Awfully. Tears started pouring down my face. This was the last straw. No more. I took a step back and wept, letting my body rid itself of that sting.
But I couldn’t avoid that frying pan. I wanted to eat. We needed to eat. There had to be onions, or it would have been pretty nasty. I couldn’t leave them out. There was no way around it. So I chopped. And cried. And hurt.
When I was finally watching those onions fry in butter, surrounded by that heavenly smell, I was a bit deflated as I felt the crushing weight of the fact that as with supper, there was only one way to go forward in life. At least, only one way to go forward in which I could really truly reach the desired end. I wanted to run away, to move on, to leave something out. But God only has one path for me towards richness. He only has one way for me to reach the goal of that beautiful quiche, of that right life, of that vibrant marriage or that deepened friendship. I had to have the onions.
I’m trying to throw off every weight that hinders, and run that race. I can tell myself all I want that the way is unclear, and why not choose the way that seems right to me?, but that doesn’t really comfort me at all. I know that God plopped me down in this path a long time ago, and set my face forward, and told me to go.
And so I go.