April 22nd, 2019

Ugly Easter Eggs

Ugly Easter Eggs.

Earlier this week I boiled some eggs so Z could dye them for Easter. So yesterday, on Easter, I peeled them to make deviled eggs.

If you have ever made deviled eggs, you know that sometimes the peel comes off effortlessly. It will pull off almost in one piece with the membrane attached and you have a beautiful, smooth boiled egg to use in your dish. A thing of beauty.

And sometimes it does not peel off easily. You crack it and every little piece sticks, or worse digs into the egg. Sometimes you pull a piece of shell off and it takes some of the egg with it, leaving a rough, cracked surface to work with.

Usually with a dozen or so eggs, I have one or maybe two that are difficult like this. Sometimes I can grab the membrane and get it going okay even if it starts badly, but usually, once it starts to go bad, it stays that way.

Most eggs peel nice and easy.

I have heard different tricks about water temperature and method of cracking to make it go smoothly. I have no action research to support these methods as effective.

Sometimes, it's just not a good peel.

Yesterday this happened to me with EVERY. SINGLE. EGG. Every one of them. I ended up with the ugliest batch of deviled eggs I have ever made. Sure they tasted fine, but they looked like I had put them through a cheese grater.

And I was so frustrated while I peeled those eggs.

Since March, it has been one bad peel after another.

My dad died.

I have lost two friends and another friend has been diagnosed with ovarian cancer.

I jacked up my knee.

I’m fighting with my husband.

My fourteen-year-old is a butt-head.

...Well, actually, that last part isn’t new…

Zoe has been in trouble for cussing at daycare and I’m pretty sure that is my fault.

I feel like I’m walking around with pieces of hard shell sticking out of me.

Are there bright spots? Of COURSE there are. God is good all the time.

But I’m cracked.

My dad is not coming back. Cancer is never not going to suck. Fourteen-year-olds will always be butt-heads. (Fight me on that one…)

I can’t write. Can’t seem to get anything done. Every little thing seems overwhelming. A day has not yet come since March 6, in which I have not, at some point, cried.

What is God doing?

Why am I in this bad egg season?

I don’t know.


it doesn’t matter.

There is a reason. Of that I am sure.

Perhaps it is time for me to grow and stretch.

Perhaps it is time for me to be quiet and listen.

Perhaps there are lessons I need to learn in the small every day moments that I have blown past in a hurry for the last few years of making shit happen in my life.

For example-- last week I had all this stuff for Z’s Easter basket and I kept just looking at the pile of it thinking, “I have GOT to put that basket together!”

It was just one more thing you know?

And I was feeling overwhelmed by it. I WANTED to do it. But it was too much.

Then I saw a post on FB that a friend had made. A picture of the Easter Basket she put together for her new son…a child she and her husband had prayed and waited for for many years. She wrote: Every year for the past decade I’ve dreamed of making this basket for Baby J. Sometimes I still feel like it’s a dream.

How beautiful is that?

I read her words and looked over at Z’s basket and I thought, “I GET to do that.”

God is doing something intentionally for me and I KNOW it is for my good, because I know HIM. And I know He loves me…even with hard, broken bits sticking out all over, He loves me.

That is an amazing gift.

What I want, is to get to the end of this…lesson or what ever it is…and come out wiser and full of grace, and you know…smooth. But I’m not sure it is going to happen like that at all. So. I am giving up my vision of how I think it should be and just… trusting in God.

On Wednesday, I GET to go to Chemo with my friend. I GET to be with her. She has been there for me so many times. I’m thankful for the opportunity to get to show her in some way how much I love her. And I GET to watch her kick cancer’s ass, because I have no doubt she will continue to do that.

So. That’s all I guess. For now.

I’m an ugly Easter egg. But it’s okay.

And the undeniable truth wrapped in that fact, is that Easter happened and, even though this is a messy, confusing chapter, its still part of the story with the same happy ending. The tomb was empty. It was empty for all of us- good, cracked, rough, smooth, whatever.

I can’t wait to see what God does next.
Happy Monday.