Perils of People Watching

The other night, my hobby of people watching brought out the ugly in me. Maybe because I’m a writer with a big imagination, I like to spy and figure out what might be going on in other people’s lives. I study mannerisms, reactions, and outfits. I’ll think things like…

He’s watching football and not listening to a word she’s saying. Now she’s texting. She looks mad. He’s gnawing on hot wings. Maybe she wants a baby and he doesn’t.

Restaurants and malls are great for people watching.

Crowded

 

So last week, my husband and I went out for pizza. (Incredible gluten-free pizza from Your Pie.)

I spotted a group of college-age girls. Boots tucked in designer jeans. Long sweaters down to their hips. I tried to create a storyline but they were chitty-chatting way too loud about nothing.

Wish I could say I came up with sweet scenarios.

But I didn’t.

In my heart, I moved past observing.

I judged them.

It happened so quickly. Less than 30 seconds. Mean thoughts…

You’re not all that funny. Do you have to be so loud? You’re just trying to get attention.

And then guess what…

Their pizza came and the girl with shimmery blonde hair said the blessing. It wasn’t a hurry-up-let’s-eat kind of blessing.

She prayed passionately. Honestly. Not for show. 

They even shut their eyes.

I wanted to crawl under the table. Ahhhhhhhh! They’re talking to You, Lord. Like I should’ve been doing instead of judging. Forgive me.

I was wrong. Way wrong.

After she prayed, she looked right at me and smiled.

I smiled back. From my heart. I’m so sorry.

I’m adding “people praying” to my “people watching” hobby.

Have you ever done what I did? Pleeeease, someone say yes…

Love,

Julie

 *above photo http://www.flickr.com/photos/davefayram/6485360921/

 

 

 

Don’t Take My Cake Away!

Date nights are just as much fun when you’re in your fifties.

Friday morning Rick said, “Where do you want to eat tonight?”

“How about gluten-free pizza at Your Pie? Then maybe I’ll get a piece of gluten-free cake.” (I was diagnosed with Celiac disease disease four years ago.)

“Whatever you want.”

True love.

I thought about my carrot cake all day long. Could hardly wait to taste it. I’d found a spot that sells homemade baked goods not too far from the pizza place. After dinner we zipped over to get my cake. Yay!

There it sat. My very own piece of cake full of nuts and iced with cream cheese frosting. (This is not the exact cake, but you get the idea.)

I placed my order.

The guy behind the counter said, “You don’t have Celiac, do you?”

“Umm, yes. Please don’t take my cake away…”

“You shouldn’t eat this. We can’t guarantee it’s not cross-contaminated with wheat.”

“Noooooooooo!”

“Do you think it would hurt you?” Rick said.

“It might. Probably.”

I handed my cake back and found a box of Ugi’s Snickerdoodles. Guaranted to be gluten-free.

Yuck. They probably taste like cardboard.

Back at home, I zapped a few of them in the microwave. I took a bite. Totally amazing! They were delish–soft, warm, cinnamon-y–even better than carrot cake! I poured us both a glass of milk.

I sensed there was a message for me buried in my snickerdoodles. After picking the word Surrender for 2012, there’s been a message for me in almost everything.

What is it, God?

Saying no to carrot cake means taking care of your body.

Surrender means taking care of your soul.

When you’re tempted go back to your old ways, remember these sweet cookies were from Me.

You have a new way to live–really live.

“…for Your Father knows what you need before you ask Him.” Matthew 6:8 (NIV)

Love,

Julie