As I See It

Lately I have found myself less annoyed. More pressed for time, but less annoyed. Busier than usual, but still, less annoyed. Under normal circumstances, the impending political upheaval(and yeah, I believe we should brace for a serious fruit basket turnover), rush of the approaching holiday season, and general, all-around ugly state of the world, would have me bitching without taking a breath.

So what if Newsweek decided to post a blatantly skeptical article about Sarah Palin’s often radical religious beliefs (Palin Believes), with much focus on her apocalyptic views and being spoken to by the Holy Spirit? Yeah, who cares that now, more than ever, the church needs to rise up, not as a bunch of flaky people who seem to have their heads in the sand, but as the body of Christ operating as a righteous example? What does it matter that everywhere you look there is resentment and anger, even in the supposed safety of the Church itself?

Truthfully none of this really is worthy of annoyance, because God is grand, faithful, and evident, and without this knowledge I would probably be somewhere beating my head repeatedly against a wall. I am not saying that we should ignore it, but I am suggesting to find a way to see through it.

Last week my husband, my family, some friends, and myself were at the Grand Canyon. None of us, excepting my mom who had gone when she was ten, had seen the Canyon in any other way than photographs or movies. Upon our arrival we were met with a sight that most descriptive words could not encompass in there tininess, since they were created from the limited understanding of human thinking. There was an awe, yes at the great divide that created a tear in the fabric of the Earth before us, but more at the brilliant, inspiring power of our God.

I told Nathan at one point, looking over the rim and sensing my own heart pounding rapidly at the sight, “How could someone not believe in a creative God when viewing this?”. There was an urgency in my body to propell myself off the rim, or at least stand at the very edge. “I must not miss anything”, I thought to myself. In reality, there was no way I could see it all or understand how massively expansive and dangerously beautiful it was. My mind couldn’t wrap around it.

Just as my mind cannot wrap around the one who created it. God created an earth that is so stunning and wonderful, and yet he concerns himself with us. If you look at all he has done, stand in awe for a moment, because he created you too. I say earth before, not world, because the world is where the mire and muck resides. It is where what God planned and intended has been uglied by the enemies nasty designs. But, somehow, God is in that too, shedding a light when we walk through it.

Which brings me to this moment, where we have to have eyes to see beyond the bad weather of the current world climate. God is faithful and good. He gives and he takes away. He remembers promises. It was important for me to see the Canyon, go out on a ledge and trust my savior that it wasn’t my time to parish. To stand close to something that so represented His indescribable vastness and my own wonder at Him, and to be afraid, but exhilarated.

I may have never known the affect it would have on me to see the Canyon had I never gone, but I know now where I am because of it. There are inevitable times in life when you look around and realize that you are having an experience. Not an experience that just resides in your memory as, “Oh, that one time I ate really good French food” or “That time we built sandcastles at Destine”, both enjoyable, but not altering; an experience that digs deep into your spirit and reminds you that, yes, you are alive and not alone. An experience that changes the way you have previously viewed yourself or your world.

It wasn’t just the Canyon, the fear of falling fast into it, or the beauty of it alone, but that I was willing to open myself to whatever God had to do with me there. To push myself to go out and dangle my feet over. It was the awareness that even in a world where death is prevalent, silver linings few, and the consensus that hell is closing in isn’t an uncommon one, God is still grand. God is still making miracles.

It is a miracle in itself to be able to stand in one place and not need to move. It is a miracle to be able to capture a moment, despite what goes on around you. But more than that it is a miracle to realize you can never fully understand God, all His facets, colors, textures. Like the Canyon, you don’t need to see Him all, to know He is greater than you and to rest in the knowledge of that.

Remember that when you grow leery of the stock market, or wonder where the money for the bills is going to come from, God created the heavens and the earth and still knows your name. He is not like us, He does not get distracted, or too busy. His hand can carve a canyon in the earth, He knows how it all works and is not surprised by anything. He knew the elements in the water and wind would erode the earth just right, to create something so beautiful I am left breathless. It is not a simple task to be the Creator, but still He never tires.

I was born on a September Eve, the same day as the hurricane hit Louisiana. The same day that my Pappa died in the flood. She had fled, Mamma, to keep away from the waters, taken Mojo the mutt and run like the devil was chasin’ her. And he was, at least the devil that lives in the deeps of the ocean. She was ridin’ fast and furious toward the Texas border, she believed then that the waters were scared of the Lonestar state. They wasn’t, as she found out later, they wasn’t afraid of anything.

I was born in a car, I was early and tiny, but screamin’, she said later, screamin’ like I knew what was chasin’ us. My skin was like greased porcelain, she said, but she didn’t care. My lips looked like tiny rosebuds in spring, soft and delicate, she said she had to kiss them. Even then, she knew I was special. I suppose Mamma’s think that about all their babies, faith in the little one’s, wishin’ for better than they got themselves. My Mamma, she was right though, more than you may think.

It was strangely warm that night, the wind from the ocean seemed to set a deep and moist blanket over everything it touched, cursing the land in it’s invasion. The first hospital Mamma came to was in a town called Newton, like fig or Sir Isaac, I suppose. The docs thought Mamma was a pioneer woman, deliverin’ a baby in the backseat of a car with the assistance of a mangy mutt. Mamma said when you have no choices it’s pretty easy to make the right one, or the one that seems heroic.

She named me Julip, she said I was sweet like sugar and strong like the bourben that made her favorite drink so good. But, Mamma said, the mint leaves must be bruised, sometimes even crushed, to bring out their flavor, and most likely, so would I. Mamma was smiling, but sad all the same when she said it. Sad cause she knew more than a Mamma should. She fell then, into a deep sleep, and dreamed of Pappa lookin’ at her through a dingy glass door. Smilin, his grey eyes full of tears, but his mouth was smilin’. She wasn’t surprised when the air had cleared around Lake Charles, when they were able to get out, families be reunited, that Pappa didn’t come. That he never would come.

She was good about it, never one to make a big fuss, full of untapped power and strong, sweet tenderness. She said she patted Mojo’s head, kissed my round cheeks, and cried just a little that I would never know him, the man she called Mister. She would later tell me stories about his soft, strong hands, his loud laugh, the kind that fills a room with joy and forces you to smile. She would pretend that he was just a man to her, just her partner in the world she left; but I would always know, deep down, he was more to her than air.

She picked herself up then and set about creating a new life, carving it out of grief and deep, deep pain. Out of loss came a home, with a white door and a tiny rose garden. Mamma took a job with one of those doctors there in Newton, one of the one’s who thought she was a pioneer, named Dr. Longbow. He liked her spirit and that she could type, she liked that he paid well and they had a daycare. Mamma calls those kind of relationships symbiotic.

She did filing, answered his phone, and set his schedule. Just normal stuff, stuff Mamma never thought she’d be doin’, but stuff she was thankful to have to do. It was like that for a long time, Mamma, Mojo and me, goin’ and comin’, comin and goin’. Then one day, when Mojo was too old to see, and couldn’t hardly hear me, he went out to the yard and was out there for a while. A while too long. When I found him he was cold, long gone. I touched his fur, wonderin’ if he knew I was touchin’ it, and cried. It wasn’t until my tears hit his fur, salty and warm, from the deepest place within me I knew I had, that I discovered why I was so special.

Mojo flipped over in my hands, licked my nose like a thank you, and trotted away. He was Mojo again, but he was young, alive, and he was gonna get me into a heap of trouble.

I think that I have always liked avocados, at least since my taste buds matured and I realized green is not synonymous with gross. I have always liked them on a sandwich or as guacamole. They have always been a nice garnish to Mexican food, or a great addition to a salad. However, it wasn’t until recently that I began to see them as more than a tasty treat with appropriate foods.

When I decided to go vegetarian I had to find foods that not only possessed the essential nutrients to keep me alive and operating smoothly, but also that would fill me up and taste good. The avocado is a perfect match, for a lot of reasons.

Avocado’s are not so much a “low fat” option, in fact one medium sized avocado has as much fat as a burger, but that is where the comparison to fast food ends. Of the 30 grams of fat only 4 grams are saturated fat, leaving the other 26 to be monounsaturated (good fat), which actually helps to lower cholesterol. There have been numerous studies done on the affects of a diet including avocados and a lower risk of heart disease.

The addition of avocados to the diet also has the benefit of added variety, not to mention an all-together healthier choice, in your meal options. My husband and I eat these delicious sandwiches or wraps daily for lunch, they consist of: organic whole wheat tortillas or whole grain bread, hummus, pine nuts, capers or olives, baby spinach leaves, cucumber, peppers, red onion and a half avocado each. Nathan and I used to eat Lean Cuisines or canned soup for lunch on a regular basis, occasionally Chick-Fil-A (pre-vegetarianism), or whatever we could scrounge up. We now make it a point to eat these sandwiches and the result is feeling full and getting something good in our bodies daily, without a lot of work

For me I have seen an overall improvement in my skin quality as well. Some of it has to do with eliminating the hormone interference with meats (I still do dairy and cage-free organic eggs, with no antibiotics or added hormones) and an increased intake of water rich veggies, but a lot of it is related to gaining essential vitamins from food sources (and not supplements).

Avocados, besides being beneficial to your heart are chalk full of essential vitamins and minerals key to your overall well-being. With 60% more potassium than bananas, avocados also have the highest fiber content of any other fruit- 75% insoluble and 25% soluble. Fiber is essential for intestinal health as well as weight management (and who couldn’t use that?). They are loaded with B vitamins which among other things, support and increase metabolism, maintain healthy skin and muscle tone, as well as enhance immune and nervous system function. The only B vitamin not found in the avocado is B-12 which you can only get from animal products (which vegans must get from a supplement). Avocados are also high in vitamin E and K, which help with blood quality and wound healing.

Sure all of those things can be gained from other foods, but you will be hard pressed to find another food so substantial in them that tastes so good. All that being said it is important to remember that all good things can become bad if over-indulged in. Since avocados are high in fat, even though it is good fat, it is still fat that can deposit itself on your thighs, tummy, or butt without ever asking. Most research would recommend eating half a medium avocado a day, which can actually cause you to lose a small amount of weight and retain less fluid.

So, in conclusion, enjoy a daily bit of avo and head towards a healthier, fuller relationship with food.