Don’t Put Pears in Your Purse (And Other Lessons No One Teaches You)

It’s almost been a month since I have put words to paper. Well, words to computer screen.

When I applied to be an RA (Resident Assistant) at my college when I was eighteen, I had to rank my priorities from one to ten. I put “boyfriend” at the bottom, even though–and this is awful for me to admit–I had a boyfriend at the time. Needless to say, the relationship never worked out. All to say, I am not that good with priorities.

I went ice skating last night with my roommates, and I am running off five hours of sleep. I sit next to the same person in two of my classes and yesterday was his birthday, yet he never mentioned it. I am sure he let me ramble on about my Thanksgiving weekend and how I don’t feel rested at all. All while we should have been celebrating his life, his birthday. It isn’t like I know him that well. Sitting next to someone doesn’t necessarily make you friends. But it was somewhere between the end of August and the end of November that we asked each other how we were doing enough to make me think we were friends.

I need to be drinking orange juice, but all I want is a Coca-Cola. Which should maybe hint at the amount of self-care I have been doing. Sometimes, especially lately, my self-care has looked like buying boots I don’t have room to store and eating ice cream straight out of the container.

I bought a coat (another thing someone who already owns three winter coats probably doesn’t have room to store) and while putting it on this morning, a button flew off as I was trying to fly out the door. I stopped.

I took a deep breath.

What are my priorities? Maybe I am missing birthdays of not-close friends, but what am I doing to celebrate my friends? What am I doing to take care of myself?

It’s funny how I take steps forward only to realize I am no farther ahead.

It is almost Advent. I am sitting listening to a radio station that only plays Christmas music, and I am reminded that Advent does not mean stringing lights or listening to “Sleigh Ride.” It means waiting.

My life is a mash of messiness and wonder, but it is alright because there will come a time when all things are made right. It will come to pass when heaven will again crash into the earth and wrongs will be righted all over the place. Again we will hear a voice from heaven declare his kingship.

In the meantime, we pick up our feet. Wake up to cold winter mornings, breath in deep the smell of coffee and pine cones. We work for justice, righting all the wrongs we can. And sometimes that takes the shape of celebrating those who are forgotten, recognizing the need to keep our priorities straight.

Also, don’t put pears in your purse. They will only make a mess. After all, some messes you embrace and others you prevent. Wisdom is knowing the difference.

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