While the blog may only receive entries once or twice a year, I’m still here. Still busy doing the silly things I’ve been doing for far, far too long. The primary purpose of the blog was to share my gluten free recipes. I began the endeavor when the household numbered significantly less children and I was spoiled with free time. Now, most days, I rise at around 6:30 and go upstairs and work on finishing the attic. Then around 8 I come down to be with my children for around an hour. Then it is off to my main job until 5. After work is dinner and then some Q.T. with the family. Around 9pm I start in on my second job and write until around 10pm. Rinse and repeat.
But every now and then I do find time to still brew. I currently re-brewed my Transfiguration IPA (use the search bar to find the recipe). Last night I bottled a dry-hopped cider. Cider and hard lemonade has become a staple–and highly sought after by friends and neighbors. And I enjoy giving it away as much as I do sampling it. In that way, I suppose, I’m like the Baldwin sisters. Only I don’t have an inheritance to survive upon.
And I spend a lot of my time thinking about (ironically?) time. Specifically, where did it go? Or, how can I slow it down? Or, what happens when I die? When I was a pastor I used to ask the congregation “which character are you in this story?” It was an effective tactic (I tell myself) to get people to enter into the story and apply it. Now I find myself thinking of Jesus on the mountain in Galilee. I used to be the ones ready to get to that Great Commission. Now I find myself identifying with the nameless disciples, casting sidelong glances at their fellow disciples silently mouthing: “Is this real? Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” In hermeneutic terms, I find I’ve shifted from the A to the B of Matthew 28:17. I’m at peace with that; for now. Not that there is peace in that, I’m just trying to be patient and trust that it is all real and faith will return.
But it has certainly given me a greater sense of urgency as I spend my time thinking about time. We have these four hanging flower baskets on our front porch. Shortly after we bought it, some pregnant bird decided to build a nest in the basket and lay her eggs. We suspected that had happened and had it quickly confirmed. Then they hatched. And then, in what seemed like a week, the birds had flown the coop and the nest was empty. A week later, one of my daughters turned 8. And it seems like it was less than a week ago that Mrs. Wine emerged from the bathroom with a shocked, concerned, elated, hesitant, glowing look on her face to let me know she was pregnant. So much life in such a short time.
So my thoughts move in a circle; stuck in a cyclical pattern even though time itself is most definitely linear. At this moment in my life, without a doubt, time is my most precious currency. And I am broke.