If there is one thing Texas does and does well it’s thunderstorms. We do thunderstorms so well, in fact, that when other states predict bad weather, Texans just smile and say “Oh, isn’t that cute? You think you’re going to have a thunderstorm.” We’re honestly a little jerky about it, if you ask me.
We’ve earned it though. We live with hail the size of dinner plates* and hurricane force winds that are just a regular old Tuesday in this great state. Turns out that thunderstorms and barbecue are both our jam. Which is fine, except when it’s not.
It’s not fine when, like last night, a storm rolls in around midnight with thunder so loud it wakes every female (not, oddly, male) in the house including the dog. It looked like a rave outside with flashing lights and booming bass and I very quickly realized two things: 1) I would not be getting one more wink of sleep and 2) Kenzie was about to join us in our bed.
For if there is one thing Kenzie is terrified of it’s thunderstorms. She will flip one million times in the air with zero fear or climb a 25-foot-rope without flinching. She is fearless and bold in most areas of her little life. But when it comes to thunderstorms, she is deathly afraid. This fear, it’s very real.
And while I don’t like to brag, I do feel that this is one area of her life where I am vastly overqualified to parent her. Because me and fear, we’re basically BFF’s. Or, more appropriately, Frenemies.. Fear has ruled my life for a long time and while I’m not master of it yet,it’s a work in progress. (read HERE). So when it comes to parenting her through this one particular emotion, I’ve got her covered.
What I am not qualified to help her through, however, is the complicated emotion known as disappointment. Because as I sit here and write these words I will tell you quite honestly, this week disappointment has completely rocked my world and I’m having a difficult time dealing with it appropriately.
See, I have this dream. It’s a big one and one I rarely speak out loud. I carry it close because it’s big and scary and sharing it feels unsafe and unsteady. But lately it feels like it’s just been popping up in little ways, growing and taking flight on it’s own. I am having a hard time keeping it quiet and ignoring it, as I would prefer to do.
My dream is to write a cookbook. And not just any old cookbook, one just like BurntToast. Filled with stories and words just as much as food and pictures. It would be unique and also, I hope, fun and beautiful. This is my dream. And except for the small fact that I have literally ZERO ideas on how to get from Point A to Point Z, it’s going really well.
And this week, almost out of nowhere, I was given a gift that would get me one step closer to this dream’s fruition. Out of almost nowhere, I received a scholarship to a Christian Women’s Writers Conference. Full tuition, all I needed to do was accept it and show up for a few days in May where I would be able to learn, grow and (eek) meet with agents in the biz.
It felt like a gift from God. It really did. When I got the email I sat in the parking lot of Costco and cried, like big ugly tears. I felt overwhelmed with God’s great grace. I felt this was Him telling me I was on the right path–I was doing what He wanted me to do. Sitting there I was able to look back on the past three years and see how everything, and I mean EVERYTHANG (even the dark parts) were God’s building blocks to get me here, right where He wanted me all along. And I felt humbled and blessed and grateful and had all of the feels, because as anyone pursuing a dream knows, it’s all about the breaks that get you there.
And this, this was a break. It was better than paying outright, because anybody can do that. It was people who know about these things saying “You’ve got something here. Let’s help you out.” It was an acknowledgement and validation that my dreams weren’t born out of nothing and somehow I have a gift that can make this happen. And it felt huge.
But no matter how huge it felt, that didn’t change the fact that I had to turn around and say NO to this incredible gift because, well, life got in the way. It just wasn’t in the cards, and while I logically understood and even agreed that it couldn’t happen, the disappointment of this nearly crushed my heart.
Let me tell you what I’m like when I’m disappointed, ok? I’m the absolute worst. I’m very angry–like yelling at you for no apparent reason angry. I lose all control of my tear ducts and will cry at random intervals, even in public. And, worst of all, I lose all self-confidence, letting those pesky old dark thoughts creep back in through the crack disappointment opened in my heart.
Especially this disappointment which felt personal and ugly and also like it came straight from God, which if you can imagine is a lot harder to swallow than being disappointed by a human or, like, anything else on earth. The question on repeat in my mind–Why, God, Why? Why give me a gift knowing in the end I wouldn’t be able to accept it? Why build me up just to ultimately crush me? It seemed cruel and unusual and I was left wishing I had never even been awarded the scholarship in the first place. Outright losing, someone telling me I’m not good enough would have been preferable to this. I promise.
This disappointment, it seems, was my emotional Achilles Heel.
Mostly because I’ve always felt a little bit like David to everyone else’s Goliath in this world of bloggers and writers. Since starting I’ve scrapped my way through, holding on by the very tips of the very tips of my fingernails. I have little support, no budget and oftentimes zero idea what I’m doing. I do it on my off-hours, in between my “real life” and I lose sleep and years off of my life trying to make it work. So this disappointment threatened to rock the already tentative grasp I have on it. This disappointment made me believe that there isn’t room in my life for my own dreams. So why try?
Sitting here today, I’ll tell you that I have no answers for how to deal with disappointment. I’m still processing this one, clearly. In fact, the only thing that keeps me hanging on, the thing standing between me and complete surrender, is that one tiny moment of praise in the Costco parking lot.
That moment is calling me back, telling me to hold on tight. It is reminding me, quietly, to look over my whole story, not just this one disappointment, and see what God has been doing all along. It’s telling me He’s got me, always has and always will. And it’s urging me to walk–just walk. Walk in faith. Walk in truth. And walk in hope.
Because of this tiny little moment, my dream is still here, a little battered, a little bruised, but here nonetheless. And I won’t let it go. I refuse to let my life fill up too much to allow space for my own dreams. I might be holding on by fingernails sometimes, but that’s ok. Any dream worth it’s weight will require an awful lot of grit and a little bit of grace** to achieve, but if we always keep the faith and always remember that God’s got this, we’ll be ok in the end.
And, friends, never ever let your life get so full caring for other people’s dreams that there is no space for your own. Make space, create room. Your dreams, I promise, are worth it.
The recipe I’m sharing today is one of my grandmothers. I bake to nurse my wounds, and this time was no exception. Yesterday, through pools of tears and mounds of disappointment I cranked this cake out. It needed no changing, it is perfect just as it is written out on an old yellowed recipe card from the 1950’s. My grandmother didn’t play. The only thing I added is this tangy quick strawberry jam. It gives a good bite to the cake and if paired with quick and easy homemade whipped cream (always do homemade people–1 cup whipping cream, 3 tablespoons powdered sugar, dash of vanilla, tiny pinch of salt) it is a springtime dessert dream.
Peace, love and dreams,
Meg
*not our actual hail size
**shameless Grit and Grace plug
Hot Milk Cake with Quick Strawberry Jam
Ingredients
- 2 cups flour
- 2 teaspoons baking powder
- pinch salt
- 4 eggs, at room temperature
- 1 1/2 cups sugar
- 1 generous cup milk
- 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
- 1 tablespoon butter
- For the Jam:
- 8 ounce bag frozen strawberries
- 2 teaspoons maple syrup
- pinch salt
- zest and juice of 1/2 lemon
- dash of vanilla
Directions
- Step 1 Preheat oven to 325 and spray a bundt cake pan well with cooking spray.
- Step 2 Sift flour, baking powder and salt together into a small bowl. Set aside.
- Step 3 Beat eggs until fluffy and almost doubled in size, about 3-5 minutes. (they will seem almost foamy)
- Step 4 Add sugar and beat well, 3 minutes or until doubled.
- Step 5 In the meantime, heat milk to almost scalding in a small saucepan over low heat, stirring occasionally.
- Step 6 Add dry ingredients to mixer and beat a few more minutes until smooth.
- Step 7 Remove milk from heat once hot and add in vanilla and butter.
- Step 8 Add to batter and mix on medium speed until incorporated, scraping down sides as you go.
- Step 9 Pour into bundt pan immediately (it’s important to put in oven while batter is still warm) and bake, 45-50 minutes until baked through.
- Step 10 Remove from oven and cool on wire rack completely before removing from pan.
- Step 11 To Make the Jam:
- Step 12 Combine frozen berries, vanilla, lemon zest and juice, syrup and salt in a saucepan over medium heat.
- Step 13 Cook, mashing occasionally, until jam like consistency.
- Step 14 Serve with cake and homemade whipped cream.
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.