Overdose.

After we kept hearing about Margie’s ice cream for weeks, Mel and I decided to take an adventure last night.  Hop on the el, get off at Montrose, and be amazed at how many choices there were.  Not only did we have to choose what sundae we wanted, but we had to choose which two flavors of ice cream to get in it. And if we wanted nuts, whipped cream, and a cherry as well.  And if we wanted to eat inside or outside.

It was a stressful process.

then we got our sundaes.  And it was stressful in the best and most delicious way possible.

That’s two scoops of ice cream: chocolate and moose tracks, completely drenched in hot fudge and whipped cream, with bananas on the side. It was amazing.

And this is about 20 minutes into the sundaes.  We persevered as long as we could, wishing we had bigger spoons, but it was just too much ice cream.  So this was our stopping point.

We were so full.  As in full past capacity.

“hopefully we don’t throw up!”

We were too full.  We made a pact that next time we go, we will either split a sundae at least three ways or get something a LOT smaller.  I’m the type who needs to eat every two hours, but I was full for the whole evening… and now, in the morning as I type this, I think I still am.

It was too much ice cream.  An overdose.  And it’s sad that you can feel such mixed feelings about something so wonderful: ice cream sundaes are fabulous, but overdosing on it makes you pretty uncomfortable.

This makes me thankful for the things in life that you can’t overdose on: love, JESUS, etc.  I’m so glad that I can’t overdose on Jesus.

And that Jesus doesn’t seem to overdose on me.

So often I think of Jesus like I was last night, thinking, man, I shouldn’t have gone that far in that sundae.  I should have split it.  It’s just too much.  I can’t handle all that this sundae brings me!  I forget that Jesus isn’t tired, and He’s not tired of me.  (although He doesn’t lack reason to be)  He doesn’t get to a point where He’s sick of talking to me and guiding me in His way.  It’s remarkable, something no human can or will do.

It’s a phenomenon I don’t understand in the least, which is why – I suppose – it’s hard to wrap my mind around it.  I blogged about this on Churchwith.us a while ago, but I still consciously wrestle with the idea that Jesus is tired of and disappointed with me, that I’m bothering him when I can’t get to the point in my prayers, that He doesn’t want to carry my burdens.

false. false.false.

Take a read of this post.

Thank you, Jesus, for not being sick of me.

 

 

 

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