I Love It when a Plan Comes Together
“Man plans. God laughs.”
– Yiddish Proverb
I’m not opposed to the occasional cliché. They exist for a reason. Much like uncomfortable stereotypes, clichés apply in situations I wish they did not. And while clichés tend to amputate critical thinking, sometimes they simply cannot be avoided. Such is the case with my garden.
Our most beautiful foods are often times the simplest. Scrambled eggs. Steak on a grill. French Fries. These foods are easy to make, and with a careful hand, they are amazing to eat!
In 2010 the Apocalypse began: Kelly green replaced maroon. The cashiers smiled no more. The meat packer stared with empty eyes. And the produce…..it was stacked.
What happens to us when a deeply loved dream dies? But what happens after we’ve tried once more, stood up once more, gone further, and refused to give up ad infinitum until there is nothing left to give?
The first presidential election in which I voted, I cast my ballot for Ronald Reagan. I understand if some of you cringe. I also understand if some of you miss the conservative girl I used to be.
Congratulations! You’ve made it through a week, maybe two, successfully avoiding gluten! You feel better now than you’ve ever felt! But after a week or so, you wonder, “How do I keep this up for the rest of my life?”
Here we are again, the church at the tail end of a fight for human rights, human dignity, and tolerance. The president came out in support of gay marriage. In response, a pastor in his pulpit declares before a cheering crowd that parents should punch young boys who exhibit feminine traits. From another pupit, a pastor suggests a final solution to homosexuality by keeping gay men and women in electrically fenced ghettos. And this week – the coup de gras: a pastor in front of his entire church called for the United States government to execute all homosexuals per Leviticus 20:13.
So what tastes like purple? I know Evy loves purple. Keep that in mind. I could have done a chocolate or a vanilla or even a lemon cake and made it purple. But where’s the creativity in that? And they don’t taste purple.
A couple of years ago, I presided over a funeral for a friend, Jay. He and his husband were well known in the Richmond theatre scene, and I was fortunate enough to have been one of the ministers presiding at his Holy Union ceremony years earlier. This was back in the 1990’s when legalized gay marriage was still a pipe dream.