one of my biggest adversaries in my first world life
has been
the toaster.
(though you could also call it a frienemy, for its warm and delicious outcomes)
no matter how much i mentally and emotionally prep myself
no matter how well i find my center, do my breathing,
no matter how much i try to fool the toaster itself
by acting as nonchalantly as possible
as i drop the bread
into place
still remains
the eerie, lingering feeling
of paranoia--
loss of control
helplessness
an impending defeat
of not knowing
when it will come out
im sure there's a science to it
of course, there already is a science
behind fear
you can describe all the biological, big-worded, technical details
of all the chemical reactions that go on in your body
when you're afraid--
all the reactions and motions a person goes through
the jolt reaction, like when you miss a step on the stairs
but all the tangible explanations in the world
doesn't take away the impact of when you actually hit the ground
(as you can see, my first world life also consists of its unhealthy doses of dramatization
...and tripping over myself. like a boss.)
you can imagine my incredulous joy
equipped with its own rays of light from the heavens
and dramatic snippet of symphony music of course
when i stared in disbelief
at a button i had never seen before
suddenly
i was in control
of my own
destiny
it would now be MY decision
when MY bread
would turn into toast
no more haphazard pacing around the kitchen
pretending my mind is filled with other things
too busy to be startled by a measly kitchen appliance
no more stealing glances at a lever
that smugly stares back,
letting me know it aint moving
until it wants to
and as always i will be
the last to know
no more--strategies
like visualizing the toast, and knowing--repeating
in my head, that its gonna come up any minute now
no more different approaches
like, just staring intently at the toaster
so that nothing it does
could possibly catch me by surprise
no more cursing myself
every time my mind drifts off
and i--without fail--get distracted
and stumble off guard when the toast suddenly pops back up
no more
pretending i was coughing--or finishing or beginning a sentence
or humming, even--or inquiring an inquisitive "hmm.."
when someone else is in the kitchen with me
and hears my initial surprise
or worse--actually sees me keep a stoic poker face intent on the toaster
while the rest of me subtley jump out of my own skin
(to my dismay, the inconsistency just derives even more suspicion
despite my best efforts to have at least kept one part of me looking calm)
this ingenious invention
could have been the key
to finally gaining back
all of those lost seconds of life
thats usually taken from me
in the momentary split second lapse of time
when my heart stops at the first metallic clang of spring and crusty carbs
then comes the unexpected but very relevant question
(contrary to the very nature of my ramblings:
expected and most likely irrelevant)
what is safe?
this is safe.
this (i am re-circling the cancel button as we speak--
in fact, here's a visual. cuz i can)
this is my SAFE button
my button that gives me control
of what happens to my best efforts--my best slices of bread
the button that stops the pacing, and the wondering
the button that stops the questioning and critical thinking
(i dont care what anyone else says--critical thought was put into my strategies
dangit.
^for emphasis)
this is the button that allows every thing--
even the time it takes to prepare that small component of breakfast
to fit neatly and daintily into my set schedule
this is the button that allows my risks to be plans
turns my out of control's into a push of a button
my what if's to and then's
my toast
into
....floppy bread
because honestly--
i don't remember the last time
i actually waited patiently
for a good thing
the last time something worthwhile
didn't take some extra patience
to reach, or attain
i dont remember the last time
or even once ever--
that God asked us
to live
the safe, predictable,
monotone
and floppy
lifestyle
that we complain incessantly
about not having
everything is wrong--
as soon as it is not under our own control
something must be done--
He must fix it, and fix it soon
because something
went against
our very set
and scheduled
plans
something isn't good enough
because i had to wonder
how good it even was
when in truth--that's one of the first questions
He's already answered for us
"it is good"
maybe not this world--but the world before us
the world He promised us
the love He's enveloped us with
to get there
wasnt that our first problem?
since the beginning of Genesis-dictated-time?
it is good
He is good
...But we
doubted that
"...how good?"
we asked
we asked God...how good?
Because maybe
it wasn't
maybe--there was something better
maybe,
i want to make
my OWN good
maybe
there is something better
i can seek
than this good
you've already given me
adam and eve did they eat of the forbidden fruit
because they asked the question...how good?
they doubted the one that loved them the most
they doubted "good"
and maybe even
wanted to see
if they could create good
themselves
if they could be good
themselves
...without Him
was it an effort,
to break away
from what they didn't realize
was life
itself?
but i digress.
more importantly--
my toast.
my toaster is now
'safe'
it is now in my own hands
to create
my own
'good'
without the trouble
of an uncontrollable factor
i have to surrender to
and be patient with
yknow
like--
time
or something
this is safe.
.....right?
yet, in addition to my floppy toast
is the floppy experience
that came with it
frustration,
because no matter how many years
it feels like i've waited
no matter how many times
i glance
at the unchanging microwave clock's numbers
only to give in, before it even reaches its second switch in numbers
(that's on a patient day)
the toast never really comes out
exactly the way
i think it should
and now i only have
myself
to blame for it
and not to imply that making toast
has ever really been the most exciting part of my day
(though it does fit itself comfortably in the top 10)
but the safe button has definitely taken away
some
excitement
and contributed as another cog
in a daily, monotone, grind
of foreseen's
and predictables
and step by step
re-runs
of my routine
my leaps of faith
(as big or insignificantly small as this example may have been)
becomes just another step
in a thoroughly predictable trudge,
an orderly march
a mapped out beginning and end
foreseen destination
and heart beat that neither jolts with fear
...or races
with excitement
what is safe?
a better question is...
what is it
that we are being
saved
from?
...my most likely,
and probably closest to accurate
conclusion
is none other than:
ourselves
just like God
did all that He could
in His seemingly unorthodox ways
to save adam and eve
from their own folly--
in short, and more accurately,
from themselves
every day
He might just be saving us
from our own, fantasized
"safe" button
we yearn for
so much
and throw tantrums
over not having
at our disposal
in our daily life
i would love to know what happens tomorrow
and the next day, and the next
i would love to never ask
my what if's
and to know
as much knowledge
of the goods and evils
as i can, of whats ahead
i would love to collect
facts upon tangible, reliable, facts
of things that are for sure
and without any risk
to my self
i would love to not pace
or wonder--
i would love to
...not be afraid
but i am
and every time
i am
its because
i've held
my own collected
truths, and limited understanding
my own lil bits
of knowledge
as more important
than the Truth
He's been trying to offer me
all along
The Truth
He's enveloped
my very being, my very existence with
I want to know all the why's and the hows
but amidst that
I keep ignoring, and overlooking
the what IS
the things that
already
ARE
we're saved
we're broken--
by our own hands
we can't be saved
we can't be safe
but in Him
we are
i don't want to wish--
to pine
for this floppy toast
any more
maybe it's worth
the wait
maybe--sometimes, the wait
can be the most exciting, eventful part
of our whole
endeavor
overthinking--one breakfast at a time,
hannah
