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Dining Alone, Sadness, and Going Home.

Melissa Beene Ford/ Uncategorized

I spent my lunch hour yesterday sitting alone in a dirty-ish restaurant near the railroad tracks.

I don’t mind eating lunch alone; in fact, I’ll be honest: I love spending my lunch hour alone…it gives me a break from the noise and frenzy of my job. I sit and answer texts and emails and play Words With Friends and write blog posts and just enjoy my ONLY single, solitary hour of TOTAL ‘ME TIME’ that I can manage to carve out of my day.

And furthermore, that’s why I chose to eat at this particular establishment…. It’s quiet, putting it at a distinct advantage, at least in my book, over the decent retaurants in town.

From my booth by the window, I see a white guy sitting on the bench outside wearing a FUBU shirt and smoking cigarettes. I wonder if he has any idea what FUBU means? I ponder whether he hand-picked that shirt at the mall, whether it was a hand-me-down, or whether he removed it from the cold dead carcass of a fallen rival gang member… In this part of town, on the other side of the railroad tracks, you just never can tell.

He’s just finished his lunch, but ten minutes ago he was at the only other occupied booth talking about a woman, and his friend was admonishing him to MOVE ON, MAN! Apparently his woman had RUNNOFT for a week and nobody knew where she went, and FUBU couldn’t quite come to grips with that. And my heart hurts for this complete stranger. And I’m pretty sure God didn’t intend for things to be this way.

A girl who looks to be about college age walks down the sidewalk flailing her cigarette wildly as she carries on an animated conversation with …nobody. And I can’t help but wonder what torment in her past made her into this broken human being, and I can’t help but think that God’s heart, if not that of her mother, must have broken for this girl at some point along the way.

A scrawny, shabbily-dressed man strolls by and I wonder if he’ll have a bed to sleep in tonight or breakfast in the morning.

Crumbling houses across the street.

Broken cars on blocks.

A mangy stray cat or two.

Overgrown weeds.

And I can’t help but wonder how far this earth has fallen from where God intended it to be on the day he placed that first human he so lovingly formed with His hands into that perfect paradise garden he created just for him to share with the ideal bride he’d provide just to help meet his every need.

This week has been a hard one for me, one with sleepless nights, countless tears shed, overwhelming stress, and pain in my heart.

I’m fine, so don’t worry (mom), but its been a hard one.

It’s been a hard one for many people I know: one friend is reeling from the unexpected loss of his job. Two marriages that I know of reached their breaking point within the last few days, and another one is plummeting down that road. And so on. So many people I know, or know of, are being crushed under the enormous weight of some sort of trial.

And I can’t help but wish for the day when this earth is no more and we get to go Home. God wanted so much more for us, and someday it will be.

And sitting here in this booth all alone, looking out at the brokenness and ruin as far as I can see through a dirty restaurant window, I cant help but think I’m not the only one longing for that day.

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Comments

  1. Jennifer Sara Jansky says

    April 10, 2011 at 8:22 am

    Amen. Life is hard for sure…..seeing Jesus sounds wonderful.

    Reply
  2. MaryJo says

    April 10, 2011 at 2:51 pm

    I'll give an AMEN, too! I thought that maybe I just notice more heartache and evil because I'm getting older and am a mom. But, I asked my dad about it and he said things seem far more bleak than when he was my age. It just seems like more and more people fall into hard times and just can't pull out of it!

    Reply

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in Spring in the Azalea District makes the winters in an 80-year-old house completely worth it … what broken pipes, icy hardwood floors and drafty windows? 🤔 I forgot already. #comeonspring #azaleadistrict #tylertx
Happy Saturday ☀️ Happy Saturday ☀️
Salt Lake City is always magical ✨ Salt Lake City is always magical ✨
2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍ Who wants a Christmas tour of my home? 🙋🏼‍♀️
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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Seems every year there’s less and less bandwidth for all these things. There’s more grief and stress, less money. More demands, less grace. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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