Cupcakes and Osama

I didn't have a lot to say this morning. But I had cupcakes. And I'm pretty sure the cupcakes were what mattered most.

Allow me to back up to last night, as I whined to my roommate, "Tiff, did I actually like teaching middle school this year?" She assured me that yes, Megan, you loved it and talked about them all of the time. (It is SO helpful to live with a good listener.)

I was relieved by her answer, but it was an honest question. The rocky last several weeks with those seventh and eighth graders have erased my positive memories and developed feelings of intense frustration. We've all been inching toward the exit sign, keeping a wary eye on one another.

I prefer to end the school year with a sense of closure and a way of affirming the students individually, but since my dominant thought over the past month has been "Goodbye and good riddance," I decided not to overreach this year. No big mushy-gushy class meetings attempted. No individual gifts made or notes written. Still, in frustration with my own feelings, I've been asking God to somehow wrap up the chaos in a good way.

The answer was simple: cupcakes.

So, last night, even as I struggled to remember any positive memories from the year, I devoted myself to yellow cupcakes with chocolate frosting -- and the Holy Spirit met me at the table. As I took my sweet time arranging candy on the frosting just right (each cupcake unique from the others), I felt the irritation ebbing and instead, love rising. 

For me, putzing in this way was a choice to love them and place value on them instead of remembering their flaws. As I worked, I began to remember fun and meaningful moments from the year, and once again, I could pray for their good instead of dwell on my angst.

Those thoughts and prayers translated into me standing before the class this morning, thanking them for a great year and, before distributing my yummy cupcakes, challenging them from Psalm 34:8 "Taste and see the the LORD is good; happy is the man who takes refuge in him." 

What does all of this have to do with Osama? Well, it just made me think about the ways I like to show love, I guess.

I putzed in a similar way earlier this week, pouring my creative self into a birthday card for my brother Peter, with whom I share a long history of Osama Bin Laden jokes. The resulting masterpiece ("23 Places Osama Is No Longer Hiding") was my artsy-fartsy way of saying, "You're valuable to me. Our shared history matters."

I realized halfway through the project that Peter might not think it was funny, and I worried that the underlying message might not be transmitted. But I was stuck with the idea, so I gave it all I had and prayed that my heart would come across in the silly efforts of my strange imagination. I think it did; he seemed as delighted to receive it as I was to make it. That's what I was hoping for.

There's no big conclusion for these thoughts, just more thoughts and questions. Do I leave enough margin in my life for this creative love to have an outlet? Creativity takes time. And sometimes I'm most creative when I'm working on something for someone else. Interesting. 

How do I keep something that is a gift from God, a way in which I reflect His image, from being about me? How do I keep it in His hands, seeking always to point it back to Him?

And how am I doing at expressing love in other ways, when putzing for hours is perhaps not the best method? Am I more committed to loving well, or to expressing myself well? 

Thank You, Father, for all of the creative ways You show Your love to me. Let me be quick and free to reflect it to others!