Standing there, flaming pan in hand. Think quick. Grease fire--draw a blank. No water. Call for assistance. Yes, call for help. Mary, Neal! How do you put out a grease fire?
Hotter by the second; bigger flame rising up. Took it outside. Okay, gotta put it down, arm burning. No water. Neal says baking soda. Local? Hmm... Okay, Mary says towel. Sure. The fire's fuel escaped it--suffocated. Singed hairs, Neal's a hero. For a moment anyhow. [The wind blew the flame in Neal's direction as he engulfed the fire with a towel.]
Cooking for Gayla tonight, I realized why I don't cook often. But I also realized why I need to cook more often. Anyhow, the felafals turned out splendid once I got past the "burning down the house" episode. Tahini sauce, humus, grapes, pita bread, tomato, garlic, onion, cucumber, bellpepper. I love fresh food; and Middle Eastern food at that.
Mary muses over my collected demeanor, composed, as the pan burns away. Somehow I remain calm in such situations as these [either that or I end up laughing inappropriately]. The magnitude of it hits me later. [Even the death of my mom didn't bring tears until 5 years later--maybe the impact of it determines the wait time before it sinks in??? or perhaps, that was just part of God's plan as He broke me and led me to His side.] I suppose I'm one to process information and my outside world much slower; maybe because I process with much care and analysis. Who knows. Maybe I'm consistant in this behavior and maybe I'm not. It's hard to tell. But I do know that there is clearly a difference in how I handle things before walking with Christ compared to now as I surrender my life to Christ daily.
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