If I haven't already said it in one of my blogs, I'll say it now - I think God has a great sense of humor. Most recently I have been made aware of this through a little thing I like to call "God remembers, Kimberly forgets." It goes something like this...
I'm standing in my tiny kitchen that boasts of zero cupboards. Zero. I'm trying to cook something or bake something. I have no counter space. None. (If you think I'm exaggerating, by all means come on over and please show me the cupboards and counters I seem to have missed.) As one might imagine, cooking, baking, and generally doing anything in a kitchen with no cupboards or counters is somewhat difficult. Next I try to do the dishes. It's really quite fun to do the dishes with no dishwasher and no garbage disposal. By the way, I would now like to remind everyone out there who can boast of a kitchen with a garbage disposal and dishwasher that you have no right to ever complain about doing the dishes. I'm sorry, but in my position I just don't see how anyone could actually complain when they have such conveniences at their disposal (no pun intended). On the same note, if you have a washer and dryer at your home, laundry complaining is also not allowed. (At least not to me, because if you do, I will serenade you with my stories of laundromats...and I might kick you in the shin.) So for those of you out there who whine about all those dishes? Again, I invite you over to visit me and try a hand at mine.
But I digress. Back to my kitchen. I know it sounds like I have a really good attitude about it, but the truth is, sometimes it's a little frustrating. Sometimes I just wish I had more space. Sometimes (like when I wanted to throw Sam a huge 30th birthday party) I want a home that's perfect for entertaining, with huge rooms, plenty of seating, and a kitchen just right for hosting parties. Sometimes I wish my shoes didn't have to be on a shelf in the kitchen. But then, somewhere in my memory, I recall saying a little prayer to God about how I actually wanted a home like this.
Let me explain. When I was young and silly, I was something of a romantic. I remember walking down the streets of Seal Beach when I was in college looking at the huge houses that lined the shore. Did I wish to live in something like that one day? No. I saw the tiny apartments a block away and thought, It would be so fun to live there! I thought it would be utterly romantic to have a tiny home in the center of town - a funky place unlike the houses with yards that I imagined my friends would have. And I actually prayed something along the lines of, Lord, please bless me with a husband who is cool enough to think a place like that would be fun.
Fast forward seven years. I have a tiny home with nooks and crannies, a fort bedroom, and yep, no modern conveniences. I live in the middle of an adorable town and can walk to the market, the coffee shop, or the quaint antique and thrift stores that line the pleasant streets. Not only that, my cool husband thinks our home is great, and revels in the fact that our tiny place prevents us from overloading ourselves with junk. (Trust me, there is absolutely no space for any unnecessary items here!)
The thing is, I had completely forgotten about my little dream of a hippie-ish husband and a tiny but adorable home. I had forgotten until I started complaining about it. Then, ever so quietly, it was as if God whispered, "Wait a minute, Kimberly...this is what you said you wanted. I'm just giving you the desires of your heart." Then I felt completely blessed and horrible all at the same time. This is what I wanted - exactly! I wanted a home that would keep me humble and keep me from being too materialistic, and a husband who was more than okay with it. And God remembered, after all this time. And now I"m wishing it away? People, in case you didn't already know, I can be a brat!
Thankfully, this little reminder has given me the attitude adjustment I needed. I've fallen in love with my home all over again, and take delight in setting my finished side dishes precariously on my bedroom dresser while I go back into the kitchen to finish cooking. I sing joyfully while I clean, knowing it will take me no more than an hour to get the place completely spotless because it is so small. And I cuddle up with my cool husband, who expresses his admiration of how cute I've made our home.
And I thank God that He has a better memory than I do. And I remind myself that when I do pray for blessings from God, I need to be prepared to take the bad with the good, since nothing is every completely perfect. And I think that someday, someday, if someone offered me an enormous beach house with a dishwasher, garbage disposal, and washer and dryer...I would take it.