the [fun] is in the details.

Last weekend, I had a really interesting conversation with my new friend Katie while baking cookies. I asked her if she wouldn't mind greasing the pan with her hands, because I hated the greasy feeling of shortening. She said sure.

"Actually," she continued somewhat sheepishly, "it's weird, but I kind of like the feeling of food in my hands."

I pretty much love any sentence that begins with It's weird, but... so I was already enjoying this. Katie continued: "A while ago, I worked doing dishes for a soup kitchen. Everyone else would use a utensil or something to scoop out the excess food, but I always used my hands."

After hearing such an awesome, cool, self-assured woman admit to me her bizarre tactile fascination, I felt okay revealing one of my own: "You know what I like? Sticking my hands in a bag of dry rice, or coffee beans. There's something cool about that."

(By the way--yes, I am aware that this specific oddity is referenced in the French movie sensation Amelie, but I maintain that I felt this way long before seeing it.)

It was exhilarating for a minute there, just being able to connect with someone about such an innocent, weird little pleasure of life. And I couldn't stop thinking about it all that night. I kept mulling it over while I took Lucy on one of her near-midnight walks around the block.

It occurred to me that so often we get caught up in the "big" things of life that we really do neglect the thousand little wonders that God's creation has to offer. We've been oversexualized--we forget that an orgasm isn't the only pleasurable thing in the world. We've been overstimulated--we forget the joy of simplicity, of doing one thing at a time and giving it all your attention instead of multi-tasking 24/7. We've been overtasked--we forget that, in the midst of working towards these lofty goals that we have set for ourselves, the journey itself is beautiful and worthwhile.

It reminded me of a C.S. Lewis quote that I recently saw on Pam's blog, about the spirit of God dwelling in the mundane: "Our model is the Jesus, not only of Calvary, but of the workshop, the roads, the crowds, the clamorous demands and surly oppositions, the lack of all peace and privacy, the interruptions. For this, so strangely unlike anything we can attribute to the divine life in itself, is apparently not only like, but is, the divine life operating under human conditions."

I don't know about anyone else, but I feel a tremendous freedom when I remember that not only does God CARE about the number of hairs on my head and the lifespans of sparrows, he REJOICES in these little things as well. I feel like I have permission to take a breath. To laugh. To lift my head up from the drawing board and enjoy the glory all around me.

And it's silly, of course, that it took that amount of analysis to come to such a conclusion, since God practically falls all over Himself trying to spell it out for us in Scripture, but hey...we all know I'm not always the brightest crayon in the box. =)

I hope that encourages you if you feel like you are struggling with the big, hefty, weighty things of life today. Go stick your hand in some coffee beans and you'll feel better, trust me.

Just be sure to pay for them first.