Sweet

A dear friend once told me that sometimes we are given gifts of time; we are gifted these little pockets of time where we are able to rest, to be with loved ones and to just catch our breath. Our job, when these gifts are granted to us, is to simply receive the gift, use the time wisely, and to allow ourselves the chance to be fully present where we are and with our loved ones.

This past week has been one of those rare and precious gifts. I have been on spring break and was desperate for it. That familiar spring semester burn out was consuming me and I could tell my work and creativity was suffering due to the lack of proper rest and time with my people. Coming home was the exact gift that I needed and I am proud to say I received the gift well. My week was spent gathering around table after table, eating delicious food with the my people. It was spent having healing conversations with a sprinkle of tears in for good measure. It was a week of time outside with a fairly brutal sunburn and blistered feet to prove it. It could truly be nothing other than a gift.

I am notorious for not seeing or refusing the gifts that are spread all around me; but this week I knew was a rare gift of rest, of connection, of breathing. I am learning to receive, to let the love of my people heal me in the ways I long to be healed. Last night, Will and I went out for a fancy last-night-of-my-spring-break and it was magical. I drank icy cold bubbly Prosecco, ate a shrimp pasta coated in a lobster sauce, and cracked into a chocolate creme brûlée. It is a night and a meal I will remember for a while, just like so many of my meals this trip.

If you know me, you know that I love food. I love to cook, to eat, and I love the table--the communion table at church, the coffee table I eat on at home, the kitchen table I grew up around, the tables in coffee shops and restaurants, the tables in my friends' homes. Going out for me means going out for dinner. I love to get dressed up and go out for dinner with Will, my parents, my grandparents, my friends--anyone and everyone. Something magical and connecting happens when we gather around a table to eat together. I can share my deepest fears and insecurities with my best friend over plates of noodles and rice. I can laugh in that head thrown back kind of way on a double date with my parents and Will and I. I can find comfort and joy at a table filled with some of the women who have impacted my life deeply.

I am working my way back to my truest and most authentic self--after a struggle with acclimating back to the US, depression, finding my way in Atlanta, and an assortment of other adventures. But I am finding that the place I feel most at home is the table. I am hearing the call and am making my way back. These meals with people I love this week have reminded me that I cannot stray too far from the table, it is the heartbeat of who I am and of my faith. I don't just meet my loved ones there I meet the God who sustains me there too.

This week has been a precious and sweet week, filled with love, laughter, good food, and plenty of time at the table with those I love. This gift of time will hopefully sustain me as I go back to school and try to finish up the semester.

Friends, I hope that you are blessed with the gifts of rest, connection, food, and time around the table. May you be strengthened and nourished for whatever journey you might find yourself on.

Peace and love,

Margaret