Strawberry crepes, anyone?

On a recent night out with my girls, we found ourselves at Village Inn, a favorite spot of ours. I love to eat out, but frequently find myself struggling with the many choices on the menu. Having too many choices can be debilitating! I decided on the strawberry crepes, mainly due to the picture, prominently featured on the menu, of the crepes covered with big, delectable, juicy berries. And as I ordered, I told myself that this time I was going to be happy with my choice, I was committing myself to the crepes, and was not going to look at my daughter's plates with culinary envy! It's a habit of mine to regret my menu choice as soon as I lay eyes on what my fellow diners have chosen. While I find indecisiveness to be generally an annoying trait, and in most areas of my life I commit rather quickly to my course of action, restaurants throw me for a loop! Everything looks good! Everything, except for what I ordered!


But, not this time. I told myself that I was going to be happy with strawberry crepes, and I was going to enjoy them. And I did. They were perfect: tender and salty-sweet, cheesy on the inside, with ripe, juicy, not-too-tart berries. And the hash browns on the side had a nice, brown crust with tender taters beneath, delightfully salty and hot. Maybe it was just a matter of perspective, but that night I savored my menu choice! Almost moaning, I all but licked the plate clean. And I commented to my girls how good the food had been, how much I'd enjoyed it.


A few days later, I found myself in Walmart on the lotion aisle, looking for sunblock for my redhead. Oy, the options available! I felt anxious as I read the labels, looking for something appropriate to prevent that precious child from burning in the hot summer sun, and not seeing a difference among the various brands. Price, in some cases. And what's with SPF 110? Really? It was too much for me.... I grabbed the generic and ran from the store. Stopping to pay first, of course!


I've thought a lot lately about the choices we make in life. We have so many things available to us, not just sunblock and dinner, but who we are going to be. What career will we choose? Teacher, nurse, fireman, politician (God forbid!!)? How to spend our free time? A snow day: ski, or read a good book curled up in a chair with a warm blanket? (Book!) Family vacation: Disneyland, Yellowstone, Grand Canyon, or camping up Logan canyon? Saturday morning: chores, yard sales, bike ride? I'm grateful to have so many options, but it can be overwhelming. And there comes a point when we need to commit ourselves to our choice, and stop waffling. One of my favorite movie scenes is in Fiddler on the Roof, when Tevye is plowing his field and weighing his response to his daughter's announcement that she was in love with a gentile. I didn't agree with his ultimate response, but he illustrated so perfectly the angst one feels when faced with one of life's toughest dilemmas. I know, strawberry crepes for dinner hardly compares. But it got me thinking about other choices I've had to make, and the unhappiness I cause myself when I constantly second-guess my chosen path. Sometimes you've got to commit to the crepes.


For most of my life, I've chosen to follow the rules laid out for me by the church. And I was always looking around me with envy. I rarely acknowledged that envy, only occasionally allowing myself to wish that I didn't have to go to church every Sunday, that I didn't have to wear garments, that I didn't have to attend the temple, that I didn't have to pay tithing, that I didn't have to behave 'appropriately'. I've been told all my life that true freedom could only be found within the confines of the gospel, that the freedom offered by the world is faux freedom, not real, not truly free. And yet, I longed for what was on somebody else's plate. I did choose the church as an adult; I can't say that someone else ordered for me. But only because I couldn't see other options as viable. I'd always accepted that the church was true, that it was me who was flawed. Then one day, I realized that maybe I'd had it backwards. What if the church was flawed, and I was really okay? Not perfect, certainly, not 'true'. But not deeply flawed. What if there were other possible ways to live out this life I'd been given? Not religiously centered. Not within the confines of the 'gospel plan'. What if I changed my order, and got what I really wanted? I craved a life free from oppression, a life lived on my own terms, by the morals and values that made sense to me, that came from my heart.


So I've made my choice, and I'm happy with it. I'm not envious anymore of anyone else's life. When I drive by the church and see cars in the parking lot, I don't wish I could be at that meeting. When I drive by the temple and see people walking in with their suitcases in hand, I don't wish that it were me. When I see the garment line on anyone else's t-shirt (and honestly, aren't we all looking?), I don't wish I were wearing them myself. I've committed to my strawberry crepes, and I'm licking the plate clean. It may not be everyone's choice for a late night dinner, but I feel satisfied and content.