Popcorn is a major food group in my world.
I joke about having been reared on popcorn and red pop. It
comes as no great surprise that my first job was working at a Karmelkorn shop
in the mall.
After two years of popping corn and cooking caramel, I can
still make a mean batch of caramel corn. The recipe is simple: brown sugar,
butter, salt, vanilla, and Karo syrup.
 |
| Remains. After all the mixing, this is what's left of the caramel corn. |
The tricky part is the timing.
If you cook it too long, the batch is dark, smoky, and tastes
something like licking a sweetened boot sole. If you quick-trigger the cooking
and don’t allow the sugar to fully process, the flavor is decent, but the
batch's texture is grainy, chewy, and dangerous; it just might loosen a tooth.
Timing it right.
I’m
an introvert and a self-proclaimed wordsmith. When conversing about deep-felt heart issues, I tend to
pause, hesitate, stumble as I look for just the right word.
To
me, communication is like making caramel corn. The first word that pops up
doesn’t necessarily merit the thought and may lack digestible qualities; timing makes all the difference.
And
so I am thankful for friends who know me and wait out my articulating stammers,
who allow me to practice filling in the blanks, and who rejoice with me as I
voice thought and exhale relief after having gotten it right.
Thankful: because sometimes
I’m dark and smoky.
Tireless
friendships hold out for the me that God is making me to be, batch by imperfect batch.
“Congenial conversation—what a pleasure!
The right word at the right time—beautiful!”
Proverbs 15:23, MSG
Lord Jesus, thank you for the promise that You are making all things new. What a blessing you have given us in friendships, and what a blessing it is to find the right word. Amen
