On Life

There are a couple other blogs I check regularly, one of which is Waiter Rant. The (current) most recent post is a really well-written piece about death (and life). It got me thinking, a little, so bear with me as I dump my brain out a bit.

Today, I ate some (uncooked) cheese. For most people, this is not a big deal, but I'm lactose intolerant. When I was diagnosed (that makes it sound like cancer, which it isn't), the doctor told me that it would gradually get worse, and that eventually almost every dairy product would be off limits without some kind of treatment or preventative pill. Well, tonight I discovered I can now add "uncooked/not significantly melted cheese" to the ever-growing list of dairy products best avoided. Considering I once ranted to my boyfriend for 45 minutes about the merits and deliciousness of cheese, you can understand why I found this discovery upsetting. Instead of being productive, I lay in bed (standing/sitting not an option for me post-accidental-lactose ingestion) eating a lollipop and reading bad romance novels. I won't say I was unhappy about the non-productivity, because who really wants to work on a Saturday evening?

Early in the day, one my bf's roommates made a big deal about how he had to make "vegan" mashed potatoes for me. (Seriously, lactose intolerance != vegan.) I know he's going through a tough time right now, but I was still kind of offended/upset. It's not like I chose to be lactose intolerant. Yes, I am thinking about becoming a vegetarian -- but I feel like he made a big deal out of something he didn't need to, and it just made me feel bad for making him go to the trouble. I far too easy to guilt trip. . .

But on the other hand, I didn't die today. Sure, LI symptoms are uncomfortable at best, but I'm alive. I'm not deathly allergic. And somewhere, in the back of my mind, there's a voice saying, "Is this little hardship so much to bear, when I died to save you? Don't you think I know a little bit of what it's like to be disappointed, or upset, or worried?"

It's hard to remember to thank God for small things, like life, and breath, and music, and crisp mornings in early spring when life seems so generally stressful and crummy, but perhaps I just need to let those things go.

Happy early Easter! (Χριστός ἀνέστη!)

-skye out.

Loving Enemies

Where does one draw the line between loving enemies, and loving evil people? I cannot find any love in my heart for the Taliban and the things they do, like flogging a seventeen year old girl, without even any proof of her supposed "crime." There is no justice in that.