It’s 7:40am and I walk to my coffee maker fully expecting to grab the carafe and pour myself a to-go mug before I leave for work. The kitchen is dim and without my glasses or contacts, it’s like a blind mouse trying to find its way. But, something looks different – that much I can tell. There is no coffee in the pot. I had set the coffee maker to brew at a certain time so it would be ready, but it’s empty.

I peered down into the glass (just to make sure, you know) – nothing. I punched the buttons on the coffee maker, willing it to start that familiar gurgling sound before the hot stream of liquid drips through the decanter lid, spreading a warm brown familiarity in the shiny glass. Nothing. You can’t imagine the things that are going through my mind at this point. I throw my hands up and walk away.

Grace Kelly knows the atmosphere in the house is not what it usually is – she’s hiding under the bed. The messed up sheets and comforter hang over one side of the bed – signs of another sleepless night. She hides behind the draping, cuddled in a ball. My bed is low to the ground so I get on my hands and knees and look at her – she scoots further away from me. I don’t know what she thinks she did that she needs to hide or maybe she just doesn’t want to incur the wrath of a coffee deprived dog mom. I wish I spoke “Dog” – that would help me in so many areas. I reach out to her – she backs away. You have got to be kidding me. I reached out further and grabbed her paw and pulled her from out underneath the bed.

With the dog under one arm and a coffee-less free hand, I leave my home. I’m still thinking about the coffee maker. It’s obviously broken. Damaged, in some way. Sure, the lights still light up and it gets warm, but something deep inside it that makes the main functions work is broken. Broken. I hate that word. I don’t want things to be broken. You see, I’m a chronic fixer. I want to fix and repair and redeem and be redeemed.

I’m the girl who has the same car she’s driven for 11 years, the girl who prefers vinyl records over iTunes downloads, the girl who would rather ride the street cruiser bike instead of the high dollar, gear shifting bike, the girl who keeps the stupid momentos, the girl who cried when she had to get rid of her 1970s avocado green refrigerator, the girl who keeps the t-shirts to sleep in from when she was a child, the girl who would rather spend a night on the couch than out, the girl who has carried the same purse for 4 years, the girl who has realized she is the happiest right where she is instead of where she always thought she should be, the girl who isn’t good at goodbyes and keeps her friendships even when life happens and people grow apart. Often times, I feel like a fish swimming upstream. I’m constantly going against the tide.

What’s that have to do with a broken coffee maker (this got way longer than I expected)… well, it’s a coffee maker it’s not life. So, I guess it’s a little more easily replaceable, but somehow that doesn’t make it easier. I’ve had that coffee maker since I moved into my apartment. I don’t want to get rid of it. But, maybe I should. Maybe I should let it go.

I started reading up on the Keurig machines – that seems like something I would like. But, there are so many functions. Lots of buttons. Bells and whistles. It’s fancy. It’s sleek. It’s new. It’s not my coffee maker. I want the sound, the smell, the familiarity… my coffee maker never let me down. Until it did. Until it broke. But, in my mind – it’s not really broken. It’s not beyond hope. I can make my coffee maker work again. It’s not so far gone I don’t have faith it can’t be restored.

It’s just coffee, though… not life.

“You can cut all the flowers but you cannot keep spring from coming.” Pablo Neruda

That quote is so beautiful to me. Let those words really sink into your heart… think about them. It doesn’t matter what kind of despair and hurt you may be feeling, like a flower that has been cut down and thrown away, this is not the end.

A dear friend of mine showed up at my house last night with a bouquet of sunflowers in her hand. “I thought you could use some cheer.” There was a time when my house was filled with flowers. They’re all gone now and it’s palpably empty. My friend’s delivery sparks that promise. Spring is coming. And, nothing can stop it. Nothing stops renewal, nothing stops growth, nothing stops time… no matter how many tears are dropped, no matter how many bruises are made, no matter how many flowers die… renewal is coming.

God promises us renewal.

“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” Romans 12:2

Testing. God loves to test me. A lot. I have struggled with this my whole life. I feel like He is always testing me. Maybe it’s for a constant break in my spirit because I am that wild horse that has to be tamed by its Master. Maybe because I never seem to learn my lesson. Maybe because His promises to me are great. I still am learning. I can’t tell you how many times I have uttered, “I’m tired of the lessons, God.”

What is good. And acceptable. And perfect. Those are beautiful words. We all want something good, and acceptable, and perfect. It’s what we all strive for as human beings. We want the goods. And, when it’s not good anymore we make choices. We can run. We can stay. We can fight. We can give up. I’ve done it all. The only thing that renews us and pushes us to grow is to persevere, to be tested, to trust that the hardship can renew us for the better. Whether we endure alone or together. We are not promised easy.

The world tells us a lot. Frankly, I’m really tired of what the world has told me. It’s not led me in many good directions. I want to listen to my heart. I want to listen to my intuition. I want to listen to the words of my Heavenly Father. I want to listen to the words of a handful of people I really trust that I know have my back like I have theirs. The world lies. It lies to men. It lies to women. It lies to children.

The world tells us if we just looked like a certain type of person, we would be desirable. If our breasts were bigger or we dressed a certain way, if our muscles were bigger and we played games with each other, if we weren’t socially awkward, if we were the popular kid in school… if, if, if, if. If we were all these things we would be loved and wanted. The world is the biggest bully. And, we are all privy to its lies and harassment.

Let the stretching, the questions, the confusion, the pain… let it renew you. Don’t be complacent in this world. Don’t run from the testing. Let it serve a purpose in you that makes you the best you can be.

I used to think nothing could hurt worse than thinking you found something that was perfect for you and not having it /losing it. But, that’s not the worst hurt. The worst hurt is actually having something that is perfect for you and losing it.

The intangible dreams, words, and people are safe. They are safe because they are not real. They are safe because they are not reality. They are safe because they are the “I think I would really be happy if…” They are safe because they are untested waters. They can be fun. They can be unfettered and frill. They are the places where you give 100% and get nothing in return. They are brick walls. They hurt us when they break, but they are easily replaced by another fantasy. Simply playgrounds for our imaginations.

The things you have… the things you are lucky enough in this world to hold with your hands, truly, and not just in your dreams… those are the things that can hurt you. They are real. They are real because you wade deep into the unknown. They are real because you turn over trust. They can be hard. They can be scary. You aren’t in control anymore. For the first time, you get and you give.

They are made of early mornings and late nights, of conversations you lose yourself in for hours, of tears wiped, of the most mundane moments in your life that are worth more than a hundred trips around the moon. They are made of kitchen trial and errors, of breathing the breath of another person, of putting someone else first, of getting a rush every time you’re around them. Of baking pies and coats in the rain. And making plans and listening to words and remembering minute details. Of giggles and dreams of perfect kisses. Of feeling home. Of being warm. Of feeling an easy steady heartbeat, of thinking what you have is easy and steady. Of times doing nothing. Time. Times you have never had – times you only wish you could have had. They make everything else seem like specks in the brightest night sky.

They are moments that don’t stop. Even when it’s hard. Even when something cracks. Because when you’ve captured something so rare, you know you can’t let it go. You want to protect it. And, keep it safe. And, nurture it. But, sometimes…

Well, that’s the part I don’t know yet. Sometimes… sometimes you lose it. The jar is broken and what you have captured is gone.

I struggle to reconcile in my mind how this happens, honestly. I am in a place of real reflection and confusion and earnest heart searching. I wonder how I can be so sure of something and… lose it. Let it slip. Let it break.  I don’t know. I wish I knew.

Sitting by myself in car, the fleeting thought of myself was “your feelings are so deep.” I was told this not too long ago… I feel deeply. And, I never really have thought about it but it’s true. Maybe that’s not normal… But I can’t help but think my feelings are deep because I care deep. I want things deeply. I want to make things work so deeply. Deep feelings leave cavernous openings for hurt. 

What’s even more rare is those moments come when you least expect it. Serendipity. They are magical moments in your life. And, even if you were the only one that felt that way, don’t let that change the way those moments made you feel, how they changed you, what they taught you. Hang on to them.

I am unsure of a lot of things, but one thing I know is those moments don’t come very often in your life. If you are so lucky to find them… oh, treat them gently and kindly. And treat them as they are the rare find that others are giving their souls away to have.

Serendipity :: finding something good without looking for it