Would You Rather

Did you ever play Would You Rather?  It's the best Debbie Downer game on the planet.

"Would you rather burn to death or drown?"

"Would you rather be buried alive or slowly freeze to death in a commercial freezer?"

"Would you rather be mauled by a bear or bitten by a rattlesnake?"

Of course there are much milder ways to play the game.  Questions about vacation choices or possible career paths.  But my high school friends always thought of the worst imaginable ways to die and forced each other to choose between them.

That's how I feel about diet restrictions.

Every once in a while I will have need to bake sans dairy.  It goes against every fiber of my being, and I only attempt such a feat for a friend.*  I. Love. Dairy.  And I've attempted gluten-free baking once, but I do not believe I will ever do that again.  What about the dinner rolls?  What about----Dessert!?  Oy vey!  How can I bake without flour?  I. Love. Flour.  I'll have to stick to meat and produce for those serving hard gluten-free time.

SO, here is a recipe for a diary-free Carrot Cake I made for a friend. Said friend and I were lamenting her temporary dairy-free state, and shuddering at the prospect of ever having to commit to a gluten-free diet.  We love our food, the way we want it, with all the good stuff inside!  I promised other friends I would post this recipe...weeks ago, so here it is.  This cake is yummy, yummy moist, and the layers came out smooth as butter.  The frosting can prove quite shifty, so when layering you might want to employ the use of toothpicks for stability.

Dairy-Free Carrot Cake

2 cups flour

2 cups sugar

1 teaspoon baking powder

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup oil

4 eggs

4 cups grated carrots

1~Mix your dry ingredients.  Grate carrots; prepare wet ingredients including carrots.

2~Throw 'em together and mix well.

3~Pour into 2 greased 9-inch round pans.

4~Bake @ 350 for 25-30 minutes. Cool completely.

Dairy-Free Meringue Frosting

1 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon cream of tartar

1 egg white

1/3 cup boiling water

1~Combine first 3 ingredients in mixing bowl with wire whisk; mix well.  Add boiling water while whisking.

2~Beat on high for 6-10 minutes until peaks form.

3~Once you reach perfect peak status, just see how awesome it is to slather this on that cake!

*I need to clarify that I do not begrudge my friends for having diet restrictions.  I love a good challenge, and I will never turn down an opportunity to feed someone I love just because I can't use butter or flour. People are more important than food.  I'm just saying, if I had to restrict MY diet for the sake of my health or my kids...  Well.  Call up the prayer chain and put me on the list.

Throw Your Hands Up in the Air, if You's a True......Introvert? (Yeah, that doesn't work.)

I don't know if I've ever told anyone this *wink*, but I'm an introvert. As a child I was graciously watched over as the "shy one". As I got older, though, I realized being a shy kid is one thing. But being shy as an adolescent? No, I wasn't shy--I was a snob. That's when I first learned how it felt to be hated. After two very painful years, I learned to be more pleasing. Even though I felt like a complete idiot doing it, I made conversation. I developed the art of small talk. (Blek. Small talk.) I smiled. I made eye contact. I said Hi to everyone I passed. All I wanted to do was watch the ground as I walked silently to class, but I learned that had terrible consequences. Thankfully I had good friends--a good group of friends. An introvert's dream is a group of faithful, compassionate friends who will let you just be; to hang around the edge, sometimes jumping in the middle, sometimes disappearing for weeks.

My darling husband is about as extroverted as I am introverted. So that's like 150% on both ends of the spectrum. I had already spent all of high school learning how to voluntarily socialize, but bringing this man into my life--for the rest of my life? I can say with near certainty that if he were not on my side, you may never see or hear from me. Like, ever. (I secretly dream of living as a hermit.) He has taught me a lot. He's pushed me, too. These have been loving shoves in the right direction, but I will not tell you that I have not often wanted to scream, Stop pushing! I have restrained from screaming too terribly much, and so I have a whole arsenal of social graces thanks to him. But the weird thing is: no matter how hard I try, sometimes I'm still embarrassingly awkward. Sometimes I just can't talk. Sometimes we'll go to a social event, and I'll get all claustrophobic and panicky inside. I'll feel like everyone sees me and all they see is a bumbling idiot. I want to hide. I used to feel like that all the time.

Then I stumbled across this blog, and this guest writer was talking about how she had to physically force herself out of her house just to expose her extroverted daughter to people. And it was exhausting. Or that she always felt stupid because she couldn't think on her feet. She could mull over a conversation for hours after the fact and think of all the socially acceptable things she should have said but couldn't think of at the time.

What?!

Yes! That's exactly how I felt. I frantically scoured the page and found the blogger was an introvert and had written a book, not just about introversion but about being an Introvert in the Church. I bought it immediately and commenced reading. And I have annoyingly preached this Introvert Gospel to my closest friends--especially the extroverted ones.

So I have begun a new phase of my inner journey. The old phase was all about self-evaluation and critiquing. I dedicated everything to becoming more like an extrovert, and it was not all for lost. I learned to use some very useful muscles, so to speak. But the muscles that allow me to walk, to breathe? Those were a bit neglected--only tended to should a problem arise. Basically I often felt I was falling flat on my face or gasping for air. But I just thought that was my lot in life. I labeled myself as over-sensitive and high-maintenance.

This new phase though, is about self-respect. The aforementioned book, which EVERYone should read, has shed so much light on the subject.

First of all, God knit me together in my mother's womb, and I'm pretty sure He didn't accidentally create an introvert where He wanted an extrovert. He actually did want an extrovert where I am; his name is Brent.

Second, our culture is simply not in favor of introversion. Rather, it strongly favors a charismatic, vivacious persona, fun-loving, and full of energy. Anything not that is suspicious. Recognizing that is half the battle for me. The other half is saying, Okay, so I don't agree. I understand the pendulum of popular opinion swings this way and that throughout history. I would not agree if popular opinion swung in favor of introverts either. I like the middle where no one is quite comfortable with One way, and so we're all just trying to live our lives the best we can. That's so very introverted of me.

Third, there are actual benefits to being an introvert. I'm quickly learning to love the fact that I'm this way. We are amazing listeners and very faithful friends. We are introspective beyond belief. If we're having a problem, we can spend hours inside our own heads figuring it out with pretty successful results. Our brains are quite sharp, because we are always thinking. Always. Because we spend so much time in careful thought, we are incredibly empathetic and understanding. It's ironic that we would seem snobbish, because we are actually very sensitive to the feelings of others.

Finally, I have limits. My limitations are not my faults--those are something else entirely. My limits are meant to be respected. This is where my extroverted husband is getting the push back. Lessons one through three were easy for both of us to accept. But this final one is the kicker, because it actually affects how we do things, and what we do. For instance, if we've gone through a stint of chaos and socializing--like recently, we both have to be compassionate and understanding when it takes me weeks of doing nothing to recuperate--like now. I am hard on myself, but I'm learning to respect my own needs. Instead of forcing myself to go to such and such an outing when I do NOT have the energy for it, I'll do one of two things: 1) I'll decline, or 2) I'll tell Brent that if he leaves me alone to fend for myself I will exact my revenge on him while he sleeps at night! No, seriously. We're on the same team, and he is very understanding when I need him to carry me because I just can't walk on my own. More importantly, we work together, proactively to make sure I don't reach that point if I don't have to. I need alone time; I need to write and reflect; I have a word quota each day that I do not aim to meet, if you get my drift. So we pay attention to the little things everyday and it makes the Big Days much easier to navigate.

As usual, I'm here writing and reflecting, because I keep wondering why I'm so tired or why I just want to crawl in bed for a week. This morning I almost called Brent to tell him I was depressed again, but all this stuff we're learning about who I am......I'm trying to remember to cut myself some slack.

Dandelions

Has it really been nearly a month since I've posted anything personally reflective and revealing?

Okay, yeah, I can see how that would happen.

It has been an intense month.

I have been in and out of Massachusetts which is not a state I like to be in--figuratively. Lives have ended--in the earthly sense; lives have been shattered; lives have shifted and moved on.

But our lives?

We're still here.

We're good.

Yes, I might burst into tears whilst reading Li'l Bit Dandelions, and she might tell me to stop, "No, really. Stop if you need to, Mommy." But despite the heart aching and churning, we're good.

I'm good.

The Lord reminds me everyday. These people? Everyday? Here? He's given this to me. I love them, and, get this: they love me.

I cannot begin to recount the blessings here. I pray I count them everyday in gratitude.

For now...

I wait.

He gives us a glimmer of joy--another one--tonight. So we wait. As two dear families leave our geographical presence, one comes to visit. We wait.

And we will savor it.