Green Bean Issues

I don't like green beans. In fact, if I were to name my least favorite food, green beans would be listed in the top five. Yet, if you've ever been to a restaurant with me, and green beans were an option as a side, you have undoubtedly heard me order them. My husband snickers and shakes his head every time I tell the server, ". . . and, um, (long pause) I guess, green beans." 

And when my plate comes out, the first thing I taste, without hesitation, is the green beans. I know. I know; why on earth do I order them if I don't like them?!

Self analysis time. 

I've never liked green beans. Never. I tolerated fresh green beans from my grandparent's garden, but tolerable does not equal palatable. Then, around the age of ten, I was visiting my aunt who insisted I not only try her canned green beans but eat the entire portion that she dished on my plate (which happened to be half a can... HALF a can of green beans is too many green beans!) So I sat at the table long after she had finished her meal and put away her dishes, and I ate green bean after green bean, fighting the urge to gag and puke with every swallow. It was one of those experiences of my childhood that was unforgettable for all the wrong reasons. (No disrespect meant to my aunt. She obviously didn't understand how much I disliked green beans.) From that experience throughout the earliest of my adulthood years, just the thought of green beans made me gag. 

I can't remember trying green beans again until I was a young adult visiting Disney World for the very first time. Grown in the air, these soilless veggies, so vibrant in color, were the most beautiful vegetables I had ever seen. And the moment I saw the green beans, I just knew I had to try them. Surely, these Disney green beans were going to taste as wonderful as they looked. So I ordered them, and I ate them. To say that they were delicious would be an exaggeration; so I'm just going to say they were tolerable. In other words for the first time since the awful green bean experience of my childhood, I didn't gag. 

So for more than twenty years now, instead of avoiding the mere thought of green beans, if green beans are an option on the menu, I choose them. Oh, my taste buds haven't changed. I still don't like them, but I don't hate them any longer either. Forever optimistic one day I will grow to like them, but even if I never do, I have learned that if I try the green beans on my plate first, it makes the rest of the food on my plate taste that much better. 

Reflecting on my issues with green beans, I can't help but think about the difficult things in my life, the people that I find the most challenging, the personal struggles that I try so desperately to avoid/hide/bury. And I find myself wondering if instead of trying to eliminate them from my life, I should welcome them and work on those areas first. What if by first tackling the difficulties in life, the other experiences of life would be even more enjoyable?

Just another random thought that might not be worth a heel of beans... 😉

Lost Again

A few weeks ago, I was making a quick trip home from work, and I got lost. By the time I realized I was surrounded by unfamiliar territory and sought the help of the gps to tell me what town was nearby, Siri informed me that I had traveled more than an hour west of my destination. Home is a straight line NORTH of work, but at the halfway point, I took 35W instead of continuing on 35E. I've traveled this road countless times. Countless. So this wasn't an unfamiliar route. There wasn't road construction or high traffic forcing me to detour. Honestly, I just wasn't paying attention. Distracted by my thoughts and my telephone conversation, I just went the wrong way. And then, I just kept going the wrong way for miles and miles. My one hour trip home turned into a three hour life lesson.

That happens to me more often than I would like to admit. I start off on the right path. I set a destination, a goal; I map it out, make a plan; and like a race car, I take off, headed for the finish line. But somewhere along the way, I get distracted, and by the time I come to my senses and realize I'm off course, it seems I'm always way off course. Way, way off course. I find myself, more often than not, wondering where I went wrong and how I got to this unfamiliar territory. 

Distractions. They come in all sorts of ways. People. Thoughts. Fears. Procrastination. Life. Boredom. Busyness. Disappointments. Self defeat. Fun. Work. Criticism. Pride. Slothfulness. Impetuousness. You name it; I've been distracted by it. 

Whether I'm looking at the numbers on the bathroom scale, the beautiful but unfinished quilt, the abandoned remodel project, the amount of money in my savings account, the blank pages of my journal, another notification from my MapMyWalk app, or the you-name-it-idea now forgotten that once seemed so brilliant, none are more important than the destiny He has chosen for me. The destiny that calls me to walk with Him, talk with Him, pursue Him... And in doing so, discover and become the me He created me to be. 

When I come to the end of my life, I don't want to look around and discover I'm in unfamiliar territory, wondering how I got off course or where I went wrong. I don't want life to happen when I'm not paying attention. I want to live life intentionally. No more coasting through, going wherever the road leads, no more cruise control, letting life lead me. Instead, I want to focus on the goal, not the goals I set for myself, but the mark for the prize of the high calling of God which is in Christ Jesus. So when I pull in the driveway, it won't be Siri's voice that tells me I've arrived at my destination, but the voice of my Father who will say, "Welcome Home!"