WAITING IS A BAKED POTATO

Last month was an ordeal. Our microwave broke… again.

There was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth.

I told my husband to suck it up and be a man.

Poor Glen. This is our third microwave. Not the sitting-in-the-middle-of-the-counter, edges-encrusted-in-crumbs, easy-to-replace version. Oh no, not us; we have the fancy schmancy over-the-stove-top-built-in-hood-fan model. Which requires a tricky installation, risking the sanity and daily bliss of anyone who is not married to Bob the Builder.

Glen the Good-at-Everything-Else had trouble facing ANOTHER installation debacle, and who can blame him? In fact, this microwave had been installed amidst many not-suitable-for-young-children outbursts only 7 months ago. Which is when we realized that it fell into that glorious category: Not Our Problem Due To Warranty!

Except it still was our problem, since we had to track down receipts, visit Home Depot, fax the documents to the manufacturer, connect with a local repair company, book a visit, and then wait 3-weeks-to-forever for the necessary parts.

In the meantime, we found ourselves in the dark ages of food preparation. Not a good place for our family. How to defrost? How to reheat leftovers? How to make popcorn in under 2 minutes?

Never have I been more cognizant of the fact that my culinary life revolves around fast and easy. The most glaring difficulty was my almost daily lunch option – the nuked potato. Throw it in the mic, add some veggies and a bit of meat – et voila, my favourite meal. There is no fast or easy way to cook a whole potato without a microwave.

In the meantime, we were wading hip deep in adoption angst. We’ve found a child we very much want to adopt. The social worker is on board. His foster mom is on board. The guy at the checkout in Safeway seemed to think it was a good idea.

We had asked the questions, heard the stories, explored the issues… We poured over every e-mail and revisited phone conversations late at night in bed. We have prayed about it. We have discussed it as a family. We have painted the pink room green. We’ve figured out a timetable for the transition. We’ve adjusted our plans for the summer.

But, there is no fast and easy way to adopt a child. Social services is not a microwave-esque industry. Nor should it be. The paperwork has been held up a number of times. Glen had a business trip. Meetings are hard to schedule. There are more questions to be asked and even more stories to be heard. And we can’t even see a picture of him, until everything is official.

So, his other family is tucking him into bed at night and singing him songs and teaching him all the important little lessons a toddler learns each day: how to hold his fork, how to pet a dog gently, and a thousand other things I can jealously imagine. And it feels like we are missing out. I’ve never met him. 

But I miss him.

In the meantime, I discovered something amazing. Potatoes baked in the oven for a long time are the BEST! I suppose I always knew that. I imagined my Mom was just a better cook and Wendy’s had a magical potato machine. Despite the wait, the crispy outer skin and the soft, even, potato-y goodness of a truly baked potato is SO much better than one nuked in the microwave.

How often are the most important things in life easy and convenient? Things like love, and learning, and parenting… They require something of us. Some patience. Some commitment. Some risk.

And maybe it won’t turn out just right. When I throw something in the microwave and it bombs, it’s easy to scrap it and start again. But where I have invested myself in a wait… there is no easy out.

In the meantime, I am learning that waiting is not such a bad place to be. I had braced myself for a great deal of frustration during the uncertainty. And I’ll admit, it’s not easy, but it’s not the waste of time that I had imagined.

Our pastor gave a sermon about “Waiting” just last week. It’s a powerful spiritual concept. Because this time between what is and what is promised is important. It is a time to learn, to trust, to prepare and to dream. And I’m better for it.

But those who WAIT/HOPE/TRUST in the Lord will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles;

they will run and not grow weary,

they will walk and not be faint.

Isaiah 40:31 (from Msg/NIV/NLT)

Waiting is a Baked Potato. No shortcuts. No quick and easy. No fast forwarding the process. But worth it in the end.

So here’s me, in the meantime. Turns out, that’s not a bad place to be.

CHRISTIE HOOS

So Here's Us

MEXICO IN MY HAIR

I was going to travel the world and take pictures of it.  A storage unit and a PO Box would be my “home” and my camera would be my best friend.  National Geographic would turn from a monthly subscription to inspiration into my ticket to ride and my pay to eat, aside from the free bugs and berries I found along the way.  

As I got older, things would meander in and out of that dream but nothing about it’s core ever really changed.  Things like jobs and friends and boys.  A long time boyfriend, who loved to write, was at one time my companion as we aspired to marry and share our lives as we trekked around the world.  He would write and I would photograph and all the angels would sing in perfect harmony.  But then we broke up.  In parting, I snatched my dream back, tucked it closely to my side and marched on, planning how to set up a tent alone and trying to remember the words to those catchy rhymes that taught you which snake was safe to eat and which one would kill you dead on the spot.

I loved knowing what I was going to do with my life.  I took classes in college, I bought really cool cameras on ebay and spent most of my free time perfecting my craft. 

I got pregnant.

At 22, with a budding career in private aviation and a tall drink of water for a boyfriend, I found out I was pregnant.  Of course, this was shocking and as unexpected as these things could be but…it wasn’t bad.  As I would smile and tell them how excited I was about the pending baby, their faces were twisted and weird.  Sometimes judgmental, sometimes confused but most of the time, the first response was “What about National Geographic?”

See God did this funny thing.  I wasn’t really “tight” with him at the age of 22.  I hadn’t been for quite some time.  If I was really honest, I would say that he was a packed-away afterthought in most of my days.  Until I had this little person growing in me.  I didn’t know what I was doing?  I could barely stop swearing let alone be in charge of building a precious little child’s moral character.

And how to answer that constant question at first reveal?  I didn’t feel like anything was lost…like anything was being taken away or that my dreams were crushed.  While I still didn’t know God in an intimate and personal way, he was wooing me.  I was excited to be a mom and, for some reason, knew that if I was supposed to be a photographer…it would happen.  

That was seven years ago.  That tall drink of water?  He’s my husband and I am his wife.  That little baby a brewin’…she’s one of three (soon to be four) and those kids are my everything.  Me and God?  We tight.  I set myself down for a second and realized my need for Him.  Lucky me, He was waiting with open arms and grace everlasting.  We talk all day, every day and He is slowly opening my eyes to how things are done in His world. 

National Geographic?  Photography?  God is so amazing.  While I continued to dabble in my love of the art, I never really felt a time to make it a career.  And I may never.  But with my kind husbands support and prompting, my loving God’s perfect timing and amazing people who give me nice compliments, I am able to practice my love-never-lost.  I may not be storing my belongings in a storage unit or calling home by PO Box 1122, but I get to go a few places and do a few things.  No moment’s notice trips or lizard tails over a rainforest campfire but this life He granted me…it’s way more exciting.  

As I prepared for bed the other night, I pulled the rubber band out of my dread-lock-like-locks to set it down and give my mane a rest.  It was the rubber band I pulled from the asparagus bundle I cooked for dinner in an attempt to quickly get the do out of my face.  Blue with Mexico written all over it.  Thought bubbles floated over head with images of mayan ruins, swimming with dolphins and underwater camera equipment carried by my photo team.  I didn’t long for it and I didn’t regret a single MOMENT in my life.  But…I tucked it close to my side and marched to bed.  If God wants me to be there, doing that…it will happen.  And if not?  Well…I am happy to just wear Mexico in my hair.

PS.  God helped me replace my swear words with a much better vocabulary.  Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t perfect…but credit to Him for as far as it has improved. 

AMY BALLARD

AMYBPHOTOGRAPHY.COM