Friday, 28 August 2015 19:40

Desire And The Last French Fry

Written by  Priscilla K. Garatti

 

Yesterday I stood looking out the window at my workplace as I microwaved my coffee for the fourth time that morning.  I'm like that.  I forget about my coffee, and it goes cold.  Then I'm back at the microwave punching the button for sixty more seconds.  The rain hit the window pane in streaming rivulets of water.  Through the rain-streaked window, I glimpsed a city bus.  I could even hear its wheels slicing through the wet pavement.  The bus was painted bright red with a gigantic picture of McDonald's French fries on its side.

When I saw the picture of those fries, I began to salivate.  I could almost taste a hot, crisp, salty fry.  I thought of Jim Gaffigan in his comedy routine talking about searching for the last fry in the bag--dividing it into thirds to enjoy the remaining crunchy bites.Jim Gaffigan Who hasn't done that?  I'm filled with glee when I discover the last fry.

As I thought about the fries, a word sprang to my mind.  Desire.  Surely I have physical desires and my mouth waters at the thought of French fries.  I thought, too, of the desires of my heart as I stood there at that window looking out at the gray day. God-given.

I'm like that woman in Hans Christian Andersen's fairytale, The Princess and the Pea. The miniscule pea under all those mattresses is felt.  Undeniable.  No matter how I turn on the bed, I sense the pea pressing into my spine.  That kernel of desire cannot be ignored.

So I think of this slight pressure, this indentation marking the vertebrae. God reminds me that my desires aren't insensible.  He gave them to me.  The feeling of joy when I write is not to be despised or discarded, but to be celebrated and used.  He coaxes me to a deeper place.  I imagine a long pier that goes infinitely out over the boundless ocean.  It is night and I am afraid to venture out to a place I do not know.  Yet He takes my hand and His presence provides the light to guide my steps, the wooden pier a stable pathway.

All this imagery triggered by the sight of French fries on a bus.  I think, deep, deeper, deepest as I sip my hot coffee.

Please, dear writer, do not abandon your heart's desires.  Keep writing. Go deeper.  God loves artists, because He is one.

"Lord you know all my desires and deepest longings.  My tears are liquid words and you can read them all." ( Psalm 38:9, Passion translation)

 

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What Readers Are Saying

In Missing God Priscilla takes a brave and unflinching look at grief and the myriad ways in which it isolates one person from another. The characters are full-bodied and the writing is mesmerizing. Best of all, there is ample room for hope to break through. This is a must read.

Beth Webb-Hart (author of Grace At Lowtide)

winner"On A Clear Blue Day" won an "Enduring Light" Bronze medal in the 2017 Illumination Book Awards.

winnerAn excerpt from Missing God won as an Honorable Mention Finalist in Glimmertrain’s short story “Family Matters” contest in April 2010.