I've taken to making my sundaes like McDonald's. Do they still do that? Leave a thick layer of fudge at the bottom of the ice cream cup as a reward?
I spoon a tablespoon, maybe two, of Braum's hot fudge into the bottom of my bowl, heat it up, and add Breyer's natural vanilla bean ice cream.
The hot fudge mixes in with the ice cream. You can't help but grab some in a spoonful, but the real treat comes at the bottom, when a gooey chocolate mess with a little bit of melted ice cream awaits you. Oh, how I love that gooey chocolate mess! I anticipate it and prolong it at the same time, the same way you do the end of a good book.
This got me thinking about the kingdom of God. It's mixed in all around us--grace and love and beauty. But we're not to the bottom of the bowl yet. When we get to the bottom of the bowl, now that will be a world full of grace and love and beauty. It will be the epitome of chocolatey gooey mess. A recreated, redeemed, revealed earth. Maybe God will fill a lake or two with hot fudge.
I think about this a lot--the future earth. After all, that's where my hope is. But as much as I think about it, I forget that I only have tastes of the hot fudge now.
They say that men struggle with finding meaning in work and women struggle with finding meaning in relationships. I won't deny that I sometimes look for ultimate fulfillment in relationships, but I struggle with wanting fulfillment in work, too. Ultimate fulfillment.
And it ain't happening.
Not to say that God doesn't give me a taste of fulfillment, that I don't have beauty and grace and love now in what I do. But there's still something missing. I can work and work and work and still not be where I want to be with my writing and speaking. Sometimes I want to be there because I want to see it glorify God, to see it further His kingdom. Sometimes I want to be there because wouldn't that reflect well on me? Look at me, everyone. Look at what I did.
Disgusting, isn't it?
I have these mixed motives because I'm not fully redeemed and recreated, just like the earth. We wait and groan together.
And someday we'll reach the bottom of the bowl.
(Of course, this metaphor is imperfect because the whip cream goes on top--oh, wait. Maybe that was Eden. We finished that layer quickly. Or it melted away. Whichever.)
Amanda and I went to McDonald's for sundaes last week, and NO there was no fudge on the bottom. Not sure if that's across the board. How disappointing.
But also the fulfillment thing--just had that very conversation with someone.
Interesting intersection (ha ha--I just joined today!).
something missing... peanuts (Dairy Queen Peanut Buster Parfait - vanilla ice cream swirled with hot fudge & peanuts)
One of my young customers was crying today -- some real disappointments and she was mad at God. I didn't get a chance to talk with her about it. Just heard a bit when she passed my desk.
Maybe she'll come back - and I can talk to her about hot fudge at the bottom.
:)
Pamela
And I have no chocolate at home right now! Thanks! Yah, thanks alot...(must wipe drool off keyboard now...) :)
Mmmm. I adore hot fudge at the bottom of the bowl or ice-cream cone or anywhere else.
Lovely thoughts here, Heather. God understands the ache, but even better, He knows the plans He has for you, and I am confident He will bring them to pass. I'm also confident that you will love them, even if they don't look like the original dream. We never get it as good as He does, anyway.
Bonus: While we wait we have hot fudge! Mercy that melts in your mouth.
Okay, you reeled me in because I started salivating at hot fudge and Breyers' vanilla bean ice cream. I started thinking maybe I'll run on out to Walgreens tonight and buy some for myself. Kirk's on a health kick, but I've blown past being on it and skipped to being off it. :)
But then I got to the heart of this post. I ache for your ache for these things right now. I so respect you for being honest about the truth of your heart -- your desires, your longings, your questions, your hope for acclaim. I so get this myself. And all I can really say right now is that I'm with you on this journey, walking my own path to self-annihilation and wondering if it will ever, ever be fully redeemed. But then I remember heaven. Just like you did here.
It's hard when I have all these dreams.
It's harder when others around you have these dreams for you. Not that it isn't a blessing, but you don't want to disappoint them. You don't want to prove to be the small person you're afraid you really are.
But then I remember that God's dreams are even bigger than mine, even when they feel smaller, and as long as I'm seeking His kingdom first, I won't disappoint Him.
Post new comment