Wednesday, October 26, 2011

A Utensil For All Seasons

As with many of my activities, I usually liken them to something else that's going on in my life.  For example, when I am in the garden turning the dirt, pulling weeds, planting new life, my mind won't shut off.  I think to myself, "You know, weeding is very much like weeding out the spiritual things that need to be pulled if you want your plants....or your spirit....to grow."  I consider the 'watering' of my soul and how, if i am not careful to 'feed' it, it just may whither and die.  Yes, much like my plants.  Much like my kiddos.

When I am running, whether it be inside on the treadmill, or outside in the cool crisp air, my little mind starts right up again.  "You know, running is so much like my relationship with God."  One foot in front of the other, even when I don't feel like it.  Gaining new ground each day that I make the choice to strap on my gear (well, throw on my running shoes) and suck it up.  One step leads to another.  I change pace, sometimes going at a dead heat, other times I consider anything that isn't walking to be 'running.'  Each step I think about how glad I am I made this choice ---to run with God.  And when I am at the end of a run, I am grateful for the lessons learned (or twirled 'round in my head).

So, the title of this little blog, "A Spoon In The Road," covers much for me.  There haven't really been "forks" in the road of my life, but circular, even oval, somewhat concave spoons that have formed for me and the decisions I have come across.  My journey in this life has never really been one of concreteness, but more of a steady "stirring," if you will.  Stirring of my soul; stirring of my mind; stirring of my life.  This little spoon has been instrumental in so many facets of my life.

When I was a little girl, I used to LOVE coming alongside my mom to cook.  She was so patient with me, giving me jobs that I could do and progressing toward more challenging recipes or food presentations, etc.  I remember one Thanksgiving in particular when she let me stir the gravy.  I wasn't but 7 years old (more or less).  And I remember standing beside her as she was working on something more complex, with me quietly moving the wooden spoon back and forth in the thickening sauce just as she had instructed.  I was concentrating and said to her as I still stared at my first pot of the yummy brown stuff, "You know, it seems we do this a lot together; stir some gravy."  She looked down at me and smiled that phenomenal smile she had that said she knew exactly what I was saying.  "Yes, baby.... we sure do."

If you know me, even just a bit, you will know what that last paragraph means, written and implied.  If you come to know me through this blog or other venue, you will come to understand what I say and what was meant to be said.  I hope that something I write may bless you or your life in some way.  Or...maybe I could just make you laugh.  That would make me happy too!

Onward and Upward!

Kiesa