Glenna Heller

Slipping a muffin into the refurbished microwave, I bumped into the old thing, jarring it from it’s nest on my glass and wood counter top. Some unknown substance smeared from its bowels. "Ooew." Enough is enough! I hurled it atop the box containing old magazines and the heap of things broken…the used hair dryer that broke just this morning, and the lamp from last week.

The practical voice spoke, "Maybe someone else can use it. Toaster ovens are great, and this one still works."

"Oh, sure, and lead someone else down the path of this struggle with herself? What a disservice that would be," I answered back.

Moving back into the dining room, I sneered at the microwave, recalling how I have to slap the top to kick it on. It, too, had been a throw-away. Considering the replacement cost, I caught myself just in time. "…for another day." I promised.

Commitment is an interesting realm of being. Committed to join my daughter 1,100 miles away, I settled on a quality of life that is below my standard. Instead of buying that new sofa that I want so desperately, I settled for slip covers to match the used chairs that were given me by ex-husband #2 when I moved in, that just happen to match the lamps that I found in that garage sale. I belabored spending money on the comforters and pillow shams, thinking, "I don’t know the size of the bed I’ll have in Colorado." I finally settled on Queen, but often wonder if I made a mistake. My clear glass dinner plates, though lovely, are from the dollar store. I resent anyone giving me anything of value that is larger than a bread-box. Ex-husband #1 had given me the lovely, leaf-and-tree design, carved oval coffee table. I’m plagued with an imminent decision. "When I leave, who, besides myself, would love such a piece of art?" In addition, the sheer weight of it makes it a formidable problem – eerily representative of my lack of commitment to my life here, now.

Each morning, I rose asking God, "When? When, Father, can I get on with my life? When can I be with my babies?" Each morning I hear the same thing: A gorgeous, beautiful rustling of the trees and the waking of the birds as the sun rises. Hmmm… How long must I wait for the answer? This weekend, I spent with the question, "How is it, God, that you can ignore my request for so long? Why is it that I’ve not heard from You yet?" Then I heard.

I had been listening for only one answer; I had been willing to accept only one, and that made me deaf to the message. Silly me. I know so much better! For whatever reason, His message is BE HERE NOW. He knows I'm committed to my daughter and grandchild. It's been a mistake for me to accept only one form that the commitment can take. Maybe there will be a time that I can live near them, but it's not now. Not at this very minute. Or month. I could tell you all the gifts given me by God that I've declined because I was unwilling to make a commitment to where I am now... it's amazing! I’ve refused relationships with men, in making new friends, I’ve given up excellent jobs, an opening to be with children – many children, all who need me. And yes, a new toaster oven.

The realization of the problem alone is enough to transform one’s quality of living.

My new toaster oven is white, and has an extra-large capacity – sufficient for dinner for two.

© Glenna Heller

January 19, 2000