Week 13

I am so close to summer I can almost taste it. And it’s delicious.

Monday – egg wrap

Tuesday – sausage and pasta bake

Thursday – egg wrap, sausage and pasta bake

It’s probably worth pointing out that often, a lot of the food I eat isn’t something  I bought. Whether it’s eggs from Summer and Joshua, leftovers from communal meals or sent up from our soup kitchen, meat from my parents, or as with this weekend, a random chicken dropped in my lap by Patrick; at any given time a good chunk of the stuff in our fridge isn’t something either Steve or myself personally paid for.

A few years ago, I would’ve chalked this up to the goodness of God to provide for us. Now, I think it’s worth to add on a piece about community. Sure, maybe before I would’ve had a random stranger give me food, but I probably would’ve been pretty weirded out and not actually eaten it.

So, ironically, as my last post was about my shrinking social circle, this is about how much I value relationship. I don’t think those are conflicting though; as my circle of close relationships gets smaller, I value those relationships more. Makes sense to me, anyway.

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Have you ever looked back and realized that there were a few really, really important times in your life that everything else hinged on? Maybe everyone else’s lives are more complex than mine has been, but already in my incredibly short life there’ve been two times that if something had gone just a little bit differently, I would likely be a much different person.

I’m coming up on my two year anniversary of leaving modern, conservative Evangelicalism and embarking into this postmodern, kinda-emergent, whatever we are. That, paired with the friendship stuff from the last week, has gotten me thinking.

I was recently told by someone that if I hadn’t joined the Abbey and moved in here, they would be exactly where I am right now. Honestly, I think the reverse may be true; if I hadn’t come here, I might be exactly where they are right now. Whether it would be the Chico party scene or 30 units and two jobs, or some ghastly mix of them both, I’m very doubtful that I’d be in any sort of healthy situation right now.

I guess I can never really know the answers to all those “what if”s, or what might be different if one Sunday morning in 2008 I hadn’t looked at the girl next to me in church and said, “I don’t belong here.” If there are infinite parallel universes and somewhere in one of them there is some overworked, exhausted, still-drunk-on-Monday-morning Rachel, I wish her luck – she’ll need a lot of it.

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