Brownies, dog poop, and grace
These days, I am jolting from one crazy big thing to the next. Many of these things are good, wonderful, amazing things. I mean, I flew to Haiti for a week of snuggling babies and expanding my vision. I wrote songs about Larabar and spent a weekend under the palm trees. I bought a car that I adore and pretty much want to write a love song about.
Truly, my life is like a fresh pan of brownies.
With a little bit of dog poop in it.
“Oh, it’s just a tiny bit of dog poop,” you say.
Um. I’m sorry. But even just a little bit of dog poop in the brownies has a way of tainting the whole batch.
There is a lot of insanity going on behind the scenes in my personal life these days, and it’s starting to creep into every corner of my world.
Yesterday in the Denver airport, I had a complete emotional meltdown. It was borderline obnoxious: there, in front of God and TSA and everyone, tears dripping from my chin, struggling with the feeling that I’m not good enough, that I’m not doing enough, that I’m not in control.
“But Annie, you’re not in control,” you say.
I knooowwwwwwww. AND IT’S THE WORSTTTTTTT. [gnashing teeth]
But I’m learning that grace is defined by necessity; it doesn’t mean a thing unless we need it.
And oh my stars, do I ever need it.
I am so thankful for the people in my life who are extending grace to me right now. I know that I don’t deserve it.
But I suppose that’s the point.
share:
i love you.
“Grace is defined by necessity.” I like that.
(By the way, I had a similar meltdown last night. I feel ya with the I’m-not-in-control-and-it-sucks thing.)
HUG.
Poop in brownies: ew.
But you? Loved. Praying for you friend.
Do you ever choose your post titles just to jazz up the Google ads in the sidebar? It’s only because of you that I kinda want to call 1-800-DOG-POOP.
Also, I’m sending peaceful thoughts your way. Hang in there, friend. <3
Oh, man, I know all about having breakdowns in DIA. A few years ago, coming back from my grandmother’s funeral, I missed my connection (the plane was sitting at the gate, but they had already closed the doors and wouldn’t let me on). I started crying and didn’t stop for about 5 hours. It wasn’t just a few tears welling up in my eyes–it was shoulders heaving, can’t speak, can’t breathe sobbing.
Love you in the midst of dog poop, my friend.
There’s always poop, some piles are just too big to ignore.
I’m with you on this whole post. So many good things going on, but I sat silent today and felt like I’m the most out of control and messed up that I’ve ever been. And I sort of knew that this is the real me, which made me feel so desperate.
It occurs to me that since I have no sense of smell, I might even KNOW if there was dog poop in my brownies.
That should have said, “It occurs to me that since I have no sense of smell, I might NOT even know if there was dog poop in my brownies.”
storms or calm seas…hang in annie!