Will It Blend? Affirmative.

Back in November Bob and I agreed that we neither needed nor wanted anything by way of  Christmas gifts. We share a common lack of interest in material “stuff” and a clear sense that God  has blessed us with every truly important thing already.  More is generally not better, usually it’s just more. So it was settled. The simple joys would reign–time with family,  gratitude, sharing our blessings.  Agreed. Ix-nay on the esents-pray.

On  Christmas morning when the grand-kids had opened everything in sight, one very large package remained untouched behind the couch. (I know what you’re thinking. No, it wasn’t a  Red Ryder BB gun.) Bob pushed it toward me with a half-sheepish, half-excited grin on his face.  It was a Blendtec–you know, one of those multi-function-super-blenders that doubles as a cement-mixer. Yep.  Bob had wandered into COSTCO the day before, looking for athletic socks. He wandered out with two pizzas and a Blendtec, socks forgotten as visions of smoothies danced in his  head.

Can I tell you, I dig the Blendtec? Best toy I’ve had in years. Every day we pull fruits and veggies out of the fridge or freezer and concoct some amazing smoothie creation.  So far I have successfully suppressed my almost-daily urges to toss some oddment or other into it. I go into Ralphie-esque trances envisioning Dad’s crescent wrenches or half a dozen pairs of reading glasses or my entire ring of keys (clicker included) or the In-N-Out sandals from the laundry room shoe shelf whirling around with a mighty racket in our ferocious new machine. It probably wasn’t a great idea to watch so many “Will It Blend?” clips on YouTube.

http://www.youtube.com/user/Blendtec?blend=3&ob=0

I resist those more interesting urges in favor of bananas and strawberries and mangoes and such. Ya gotta love technology. I mean–I make my breakfast in a kitchen appliance that probably has more torque than my mini-van. The novelty has yet to wear off. Will it blend?

Anyway, I’m pulling out of a pretty rough patch with my Parkinson’s these past few months and I’ve been thinking about life.  I have come to the conclusion that, yes, it will blend. The love of God, the perfect atoning grace of Jesus Christ can handle anything that life throws at us. Sometimes, I confess, I look at a particular challenge or detail that gets tossed into the mix of mortality and I think, “No way. No can do. I didn’t order that. Where’s the milk and the honey? My jar is full. No more ingredients, please, especially not those ones.” Hard, rough-edged scraps of white-hot metal whirl around with thorns and nails and small, sharp bits of gravel from my shoes. And tears. Then atoning blood. And just when I fear that the noise and the grinding will overcome me, the shiny rotor-blades stop and I see that everything–the whole jar full–has become smooth and strong and somehow beautiful.  I take the cup in trembling hands, oddly grateful that it did not entirely pass from me. Holding it willingly, I notice that only a few drops sit in the bottom. Someone else has already taken the rest. All of it that was bitter or toxic or scalding has been swallowed up in His perfect love. What remains is clear and cool and slightly sweet and the taste of it on my tongue changes my face forever.

Blender philosophizing? That’s a first. But God is  good. His infinite mercy gets me through life’s rough, inexplicable, heart-rending challenges and gives me hope and power to rejoice. “The crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain.” (Isaiah 40:4) In other words: It will blend.