Percolating over a Bloody Mary

I don't always give in to my cravings. But I just couldn't say no. Ever since "Bloody Mary" was uttered a week-ish ago, I've just had to have one. I think the last time I had a Bloody Mary was at least 18 months ago, if not longer. There was a time that a Bloody Mary was my drink of choice - especially on a Saturday evening when the kid (one at the time) was down, and my spousal unit and I made a date night out of an ordinary evening in, which usually consisted of either pizza or a fabulous meal, followed by a plethora of adult beverages and video games (Resident Evil, God of War, or some version of a racing game, which basically gave us license to drive under the influence, only in the privacy of our own home). Scott's drink: Scotch. My drink: Bloody Mary.


I've forgotten how much I love these things. Seriously, look at this. Isn't it lovely?  Made with vodka (Three Olives - my favorite), Clamato (more than just tomato juice), with a couple of splashes of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire sauce and Tabasco, and garnished with pickled okra and jalapeno stuffed olives. So freakin' delicious.

Spicy.

Refreshing.

Crisp.

Delightful.

It's a drink with which I can sit back, relax and percolate.

Do you ever percolate?

I didn't used to like percolating - alone with my thoughts. They were too convicting. In a lot of ways they still are. The object of my affection isn't what it should be much of the time. I'd love to report that my mind is constantly on Jesus. But the truth is... it's not. More often than not, it's far from it (or Him, rather). I can't even begin to tell you the places I allow my mind to wander. I have a very vivid imagination. All too often I succumb to the power of my impulses. I wish that weren't true, but unfortunately, it is.

Maybe that's just my human nature. Maybe it's my fallen nature. I don't know.

This may sound odd, but often I focus too much on my home, my life, my husband.... It's easy to make my spouse my Lord. I look to him for my worth, my value, my esteem. It's easy to do because he builds me up. He holds me in high esteem. He makes me feel beautiful, desired, adored....  Maybe this seems backwards, but I can't love him rightly that way. I don't honor my husband by making him the center of my world. See, if I do that, eventually he'll do something that causes me to pull my adoration away from him and on to something (or someone) else. Kind of like loving love for the sake of love. How do you do this without making it another legalism? I don't want to love Jesus first because I should. I want to love Him first because not only do I want to, but I genuinely do. Believe me, I do want to. It just doesn't come naturally. It's a discipline. A practice.

In all honesty, I suck at it.

So, here I percolate. With my Bloody Mary. And Jack Johnson. And the crickets.