“When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years, which you have, all that time, idiot-like, been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about the joy of words. I saw well why the gods do not speak to us openly, nor let us answer. Till that word can be dug out of us, why should they hear the babble that we think we mean? How can they meet us face to face till we have faces?” C.S. Lewis
I finished this C.S. Lewis novel tonight, my friend Kendra’s favorite (p.s., for context, this is the friend Kendra who sent me this scone recipe last year and who cooked dinner and talked business with me in my kitchen last summer and who runs a bakery subscription company for fangirls in North Carolina because she is just that cool and Linchpin-y). Because the book club I’m reading the book with doesn’t meet until next Wednesday, I’ve now spent the better part of the evening Googling articles and reading commentaries and generally staring at the walls thinking, “Woah, what am I even thinking about this story?”
This is a common experience for me, maybe you too, wherein I think something or feel something and it’s 100 percent real and 100 percent happening but it’s real and it’s happening deep enough inside of me that I almost don’t understand it, so when I try to articulate it into words, I babble and struggle trying to make it ring true. Flannery O’Connor said, “I write to discover what I know.” Most times I come to this space, I feel like that. When I look at pictures of roasted zucchini slices piled with sauteéd vegetables and broiled cheese, I’m trying hard as I can to write the very thing I really mean beneath the zucchini slices, maybe because it happened the same day, maybe because it happened the same moments. I’m trying to push to that place where I write something I can read back over and think, “Ah, yes! That is the thing I am trying to say!” This happens maybe one in one hundred times, but when it happens, I feel this flash of euphoria like I’m a fisherman catching a giant musky or a mother catching her toddler child folding his hands at the table, where briefly, just for that moment, I am tasting something I was always hoping to be able to do, seeing something I was always hoping to be able to see.
There are precious few of us who yet have faces, who are able to speak, even in a blog post or for a moment, without pretense or posturing, altogether guileless and pure. We are all of us so stuck in masks we don’t know we’re wearing! We’re babbling things we think we mean! I wonder sometimes if I could even handle hearing myself speak what is in my heart. Imagine if we all did. Would we be ashamed at jealousy and bitterness and selfish ambition coming out of us, for everyone to hear? Would we justify ourselves then? Nonetheless, I long for the light. May this blog be a space where I push ever further, if fractionally, if still veiled-face, towards it.
So some things I think have been occupying my mind lately:
- This song, on repeat, all afternoon, recommended by this sweet blog
- A second read through this book
- At the park yesterday: “Ugh, do you smell that?” “It smells like dog poop.” “Um, guuuuuys?”
- This honest and funny post
- New glasses that pulled me to the mirror all day. Have you heard of David Kind already?
- “We overpraise ourselves. We can never overpraise Jesus.” (source)
- this gorgeous new cookbook
- and this gorgeous new cookbook!
- Land vs. house
- Sleep vs. late-night drives
- Laundry all over the bedroom
- Two-hour passionate phone calls that have me apologizing for my harsh words
- You will never esteem and seek grace until you finally admit that sin is a problem you have no ability whatsoever to solve. (Paul Tripp)
aaaaaand vertically sliced zucchini, roasted for 15 minutes in oil, salt and pepper, topped with a sauteéd hash of diced bell pepper and mushrooms, topped with cheese, broiled for five minutes. We’re eating grain-free for the rest of the month, which is a season where vegetable-heavy, cheese-topped dishes like this one are best born. And as far as non-bread, non-grain, vegetable pizzas go, this one’s tops.