I had a very weird day today. I don't know if it is because I am a teeny tiny bit sick or because I have been having a teeny bit of trouble sleeping lately, or if it just had to do with a long confusing day of broken dryers, confusing bus schedules, and sad books being read for school, or if there is a bigger issue at play. Whatever the cause. I found myself, late this afternoon, standing in the middle of the kitchen and crying about bread. Bread! Isn't that the silliest thing to cry about?
See, what happened is that I finally decided that I might be feeling the way I felt because I was hungry so I went to make a sandwich and couldn't find my bread. It shouldn't have been a big deal, in fact it should have even been funny. It turns out one of my house mates had accidently taken my bread thinking it was theirs and they were more than happy to give it back.
However, sometimes I just get so mentally or emotionally tired I feel totally incapable of figuring out life, even of figuring out something super simple like finding a lost loaf of bread.
I was thinking about it and came to the conclusion that I cannot possibly be the only one who cries about simple things like missing bread.
If you cry over lost bread too, I just wanted to share something with you.
Today I texted someone I have known my whole life whose birthday is coming up in about a week asking what she would like me to get her for a gift. I've always been the one who doesn't know what I want. She always used to know, but she texted me back that she doesn't want anything. She told me she has everything in the world that she wants or needs.
I was blown away. I had pretty much come to the conclusion that peace and joy were old wives tales. I have been trying like crazy to believe they are real, but sometimes it is easy to get to a place where I loose sight of what is important and what I really believe is true and what I believe are lies that I shouldn't listen to. Sometimes it is really easy to get lost in the throws of a confusing moment and feel too weak to bother, but I really and truly don't think this has to be the end.
I believe that there is something we can all put our hope in that won't disappoint.
I would like to leave you with one last thought: it is a process.
A friend of mine talked about processes the other day and I thought to myself "oh yeah right I forgot, things take time." My whole life I've been trying to do or say or understand the thing that will make everything better. I keep forgetting that it is a process and I get really ashamed when a bump comes along in my road and I find myself standing in the kitchen crying about bread. I get angry with myself because I think that I should have it all figured out and that I should have finally found peace and joy and hope. I worry that maybe I'm just a liar and that I was wrong or that what I hope in and believe in is all lies. The other possibility may be that it is ok to sometimes find yourself unable to deal with everyday life. The other possibility may be that I'm not alone. Maybe there are people all over the world who cry about bread. Maybe getting to the place where you can laugh over lost bread is a slow journey, and maybe it is one we don't have to go on alone.
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