for as long as i can remember...

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