{"id":352,"date":"2010-12-29T11:31:00","date_gmt":"2010-12-29T18:31:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/69.195.124.95\/~redletu4\/eat-your-okra-reflections-on-a-year-gone-by\/"},"modified":"2010-12-29T11:31:00","modified_gmt":"2010-12-29T18:31:00","slug":"eat-your-okra-reflections-on-a-year-gone-by","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/davidrupert\/eat-your-okra-reflections-on-a-year-gone-by\/","title":{"rendered":"Eat your okra: Reflections on a year gone by"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p><span><span lang=\"EN\">My mother used to put okra in the stew. And I hated it. It was slimy and green \u2014 two things that most little boys avoid with every fiber of their being. And never should those two ingredients be\u00a0presented as <em>food.\u00a0<\/em>\u00a0No way was I going to buy it. To a ten-year old, okra isn\u2019t\u00a0food. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span><span lang=\"EN\">I could eat the other parts of the stew, but\u00a0<\/span><\/span><span><span lang=\"EN\">leaving the okra until the bottom of the bowl only meant that I would have to take several spoons of the mushy vegetable all at once. The dog wasn\u2019t to be fooled and neither was mom. It had to go down the hatch. So I ate the stew in whole \u2013 meat, potatoes, carrots, broth and okra. And it actually tasted pretty decent.<\/span><\/span><br>\ufeff <\/p>\n<table cellpadding=\"0\" cellspacing=\"0\">\n<tbody>\n<tr>\n<td><a href=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_n3tvlzeK1OE\/TRtvsEga-1I\/AAAAAAAABN8\/Zd9z4X5GD74\/s1600\/Okra.jpg\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" border=\"0\" height=\"133\" src=\"https:\/\/2.bp.blogspot.com\/_n3tvlzeK1OE\/TRtvsEga-1I\/AAAAAAAABN8\/Zd9z4X5GD74\/s200\/Okra.jpg\" width=\"200\"><\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<tr>\n<td>\n<div align=\"right\"><em><span><span>Photo D Rupert<\/span><\/span><\/em><\/div>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/tbody>\n<\/table>\n<p><span><span lang=\"EN\">This year is ending on a high note with great expectations. My hopes and dreams are coming true.\u00a0But\u00a0I\u2019ll admit, there has been some okra thrown in throughout the year. I\u2019ve sinned. I\u2019ve said things I wish I could take back. I\u2019ve had circumstances and death come my way.\u00a0I could try to pull out the bad, to make them disappear. I could try to wrap them in a napkin and throw them in the trash. But the best thing I can do is eat the whole stew. And you know what?\u00a0Despite the world\u2019s attempt to make it bad, this stew is actually pretty good.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<div><\/div>\n<div><span><span lang=\"EN\">There is a tendency to want to start over again, <em>but the reality is that we live in reality<\/em>. There is no fantasy-land, no Eden of innocence. Even the redemption story saves the person where he is \u2014 not where he wishes he were. <\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div>\n<span><span lang=\"EN\">I\u00a0was intrigued by what\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/greatbrainidea.wordpress.com\/2010\/12\/03\/dust\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><span><span>Cindy Waldrop<\/span><\/span><\/a>\u00a0wrote. As she\u00a0c<\/span><\/span><span><span lang=\"EN\">leaning her home,\u00a0the swirling cloud of dirt from her efforts set off a time of reflection, the dust of her own life agitated in memory. She said that she was \u201c<em>tired of her own story.\u201d<\/em> And that story is one of failure, of loss, of rejection. \u201c<em>All of these things that constrict my air, that feel binding, that are dragging behind me like chains\u2026I know this story well.\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/span>\n<\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<div><span lang=\"EN\"><span>And in her frustration she just wants to have a complete fresh start, to level the whole thing to the ground. \u201c<em>The world grows this way in hearts, doesn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/em><\/span><\/span><\/div>\n<div><\/div>\n<p><span lang=\"EN\"><span>Then the dust settles. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span lang=\"EN\"><span>And the empty pot awaits, ready for a fresh batch. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<p><strong><span><em>Are you ready for a new year? What will be in your pot? Do you like okra? <\/em><a href=\"https:\/\/www.blogger.com\/comment.g?blogID=956512876042479602&amp;postID=4688296819969030337&amp;isPopup=true\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\"><em>Other comments?<\/em><\/a><\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<div>Please, share with a friend if you feel moved.<br>\nRead all past issues at http:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/davidrupert<\/div>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My mother used to put okra in the stew. And I hated it. It was slimy and green \u2014 two things that most little boys avoid with every fiber of their being. And never should those two ingredients be\u00a0presented as food.\u00a0\u00a0No way was I going to buy it. To a ten-year old, okra isn\u2019t\u00a0food. I [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2375,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-352","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Eat your okra: Reflections on a year gone by<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"My mother used to put okra in the stew. And I hated it. 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