Heading out of town for a much-needed date night, hubby asks me to pop in some good music.
"I know - our wedding CD," he grins, referring to the compilation of our favorite songs that we handed out as thank-yous to folks who came to our Mexico destination wedding.
"Ah, yes," I agree, taking a deep breath and resting my weary head back as the entrancing Spanish guitar nearly lulls me to sleep.
I'm quickly snapped back from my mini-nap when hubby says, "It's so funny, cause when I think to the outset of our marriage and how I imagined life would be, I gotta say it's so different now than what I dreamed it would be."
"Eh?" I'm thinking.
"What's he getting at here?"
"You mean..." I probe.
"I mean, in my mind back then, I envisioned one continual backyard cookout with the kids and all our friends, just relaxing and enjoying uninterrupted quality time with our perfect little dream-family. No one stressing out over where the kids are, if someone is about to eat dirt or fall in a pool. I had no idea how much more...
work it was going to be!" he says.
"Hmmmph..." I scowl.
"But honestly, it's so much...
better than I ever imagined. So much richer and deeper," he finishes.
"Well, thank you!" I think.
We go on to laugh about how it's a good thing most folks are so clueless as to how hard marriage and kids are before they take the plunge, otherwise our species might die out! But of course, the beauty is that even if it's possibly the most difficult thing we'll ever do, it is by far one of the most rewarding and fulfilling. And for me, the most educating. I have learned more about myself and God in the past 4 1/2 years than I did in the 29 years prior. That's some crazy God-math.
Arriving at our highly anticipated dinner destination - a romantic restaurant with a highly-touted chef - we giddily pore over the menu, finally settling on an appetizer of bacon-wrapped stuffed jalapenos, followed by a wedge salad and veal Marsala for our entree. It'd been a long time since we'd had such a fancy culinary experience and, being the foodies that we are, each minute waiting for what we knew would be an explosion of tastiness seemed to drag by.
Finally, the beautifully presented cream-cheese stuffed, bacony-delicious jalapenos arrive.
"Mmmmm," hubby grins as he serves me one. I close my eyes and gingerly take a bite, awaiting the taste explosion aforementioned. Instead, what I get is a tiny taste burst, quickly followed by a whole lot of...
pain.
"They're a little hot," I grimace, sweat beading up on my nose. Hubby's eyes soon begin to water as he spasmodically nods his chewing head in agreement. We muscle through the appetizer disappointment, still clinging to high hopes for the salad and entree. But alas, our hopes are dashed as the salad proves watery and semi-tasteless and the entree, although it is not bad, is something akin to what we could've cooked on our own.
"Should we split a dessert?" Hubby, ever the optimist, suggests. Since I am a recovering sweet-aholic and have not had dessert in what seemed an eternity, I concur, "love to!"
We speedily agree on the German Chocolate pie (because, if you're gonna go for dessert, why mess around with anything that's not chocolate!?).
Now this...
THIS is what redeems our dining experience. It takes us easily half an hour to finish this one tiny sliver of pie, as we slowly savor each delectable bite, locking eyes and nodding our heads, our only utterance being "mmmmm...."
When it's finally all gone (sniff), we walk out of our beautiful restaurant into the starry night, satisfied.
That's life, isn't it? We have it in our heads that each course of the experience is going to be (or at least should be) a mind-blowing explosion of sweetness. Instead we find our plates full of meltdowns, demands, short attention spans, ungratefulness, and sleep-deprivation, followed by a nice helping of dirty laundry, traffic and the never-ending sinkful of dishes.
If we're not careful, that's all we'll see everyday.
If we're not careful, we'll walk away from each day having missed the sweet moments. Because they are there. We just have to have our eyes open, looking for them.
If we're not careful to keep our eyes searching for the sacred moments, we will, by default, miss them. They can be sneaky little chunks of chocolatey sweetness, hiding under piles of distractions and our self-imposed "to do" lists. But they are there, even in the midst of our most severe pain.
When we finally make the decision to force our gaze away from the pains of life,
the failures of our flesh,
the "what ifs" that paralyze us with fear and keep us from ever taking a risky leap of faith forward,
the false comforters with which we desperately try to numb ourselves...
and our weary eyes come to rest on the beautiful presence of Christ, who is just waiting for us to "take heart" in Him and find true peace because He has overcome the world (John 16:33)...
then we will finally have life to the full!
Until that point, as C.S. Lewis so masterfully paints us,
"We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased." (The Weight of Glory)
I am convinced that God gives us the sweet moments to point us to Himself - so that we can find true fulfillment in an intimate relationship with Him and fathomless strength for the inevitable struggles that life brings. We were meant to worship the Creator, not the creation, after all (
Romans 1:25), to let the good things in life point us to the Good Gift Giver. The sweet gifts are not designed to hold our hearts forever. They fall woefully short for the task. They will always melt into a gloppy mess, leaving us hungry again.
When we finally learn that His love will always be enough, we will stop searching for more and more fleeting sweet moments - because although they are nice when they come, they can never (and were never intended to) fulfill us. In fact, if all we ever had was sweetness, our "taste buds" would eventually grow dull and we would lose our ability to truly enjoy the blessings.
With the knowledge that true fulfillment, real purpose and meaning in life come only from a vibrant relationship with my Creator, I am freed up to simply enjoy exactly where God has me for this season. All of life is sprinkled with holy moments and sweet, sacred glimpses of the eternal. Nothing in my life is meaningless, and I can stop looking for "something else out there" to provide me with a sense of significance - because I am significant in Christ! The rest is just gravy.
Or chocolate, whichever you prefer.
