The f word according to me

There are days in every one's life where you want to run away to some place where nobody knows you, a place preferably with plenty of sand to bury your head in. That is always the easy way out, isn't it? But sooner or later we all have to face that one thing that gets us the most. For me, this thing is called Failure. I have opted out on so many things in my life, because of that silly "what if I can't do it" question, lingering in the back of my head, pestering me until I finally give in to it. This year was supposed to be different, and it started out different, but for now it feels as though everything has come to a sudden halt as I feel like a ton of bricks are weighing down on my back, and I find myself wiping a few tears from my eyes.
It was bad enough to have two ladies miss out on our first Gourmet Dinner night, due to my bad planning and communication skills. Here too, a few tears were wiped from my eyes. The dinner itself was beautiful, as we spent time bonding over food and candle light - nothing was burnt, no wine was spilled, no dishes broken. We all went home happy, excited for what our next time together would bring.
The crashing halt came the next day, as I received news that just about all the ladies, except for me, were sick through the night. Here it is, that little word that begins with f, failure. The worst part is, that it wasn't me that was sick, but everyone else, and I had planned the party and it was at my house. My title of foodie has now become foodie whose food may be risky to eat. I immediately think of giving up everything I had started this year, I was ready to say good bye even to this blog - now I was beginning to feel sick, not due to bacteria, but because of what I had done to my best friends... and how my love for cooking and food should be something kept to myself, and not shared with others, even though that goes against every foodies nature. I went to bed early, buried my head in my pillows (since the only sand available is outside in my daughter's sand box, and it's simply not deep enough), tried to shut off my mind and just go to sleep where all is silent and forgotten.
Earlier that day, however, I was at church, as I always am on Sunday mornings, and the message, although simple, ran through my mind, this time with good news and not one of giving up. The message was so simple, I at times had difficulty staying focused. What spoke to me the most was only a little tiny part of the message, but something I knew to be true for years now, something that had pulled me out of a dark time in my life a few years ago. But it came with a different angle this time and went so deep into my soul, I knew it would be something I would go back to at one point in my life. Little did I know that time would come only a few hours later.
The preacher told us a short story of how his wife would kick him out of the house when he felt low, not to get rid of him, but for him to go and help somebody else. Instead of wallowing in self pity, and waiting for something or someone to come pull you out of a situation, go and pull someone out of theirs. I had done this before, but the difference here is that, rather than waiting a day or two or even a week, you go at that moment, without hesitation... Seeing as I was in bed at that time, I decided I would wait until morning, but with determination that I would look failure straight in the face and DO something about it. I would find the first person that I could help, and I was going to DO something for them. And that is exactly what I did the very next morning.
I have been driving a wonderful African lady home in the mornings after dropping off the kids at school for a little while now. I was not able to drive her TO school, as my old car only accommodated 3 children, but - the new one can carry four. She has two kids, and I have two. It works out perfectly! For some reason I just had never acted on it, so today was going to be that day. So on our way home, not only did I finally ask for the spelling of her name (which is a beautiful African name, not so easy to pronounce, even less easy to spell), I got her phone number and offered to pick her kids up and drop them off each and every day, until they get a car this January. The thankfulness in her eyes lifted the heavy burden on my back, and put a spring back into my step. How can such a simple thing change your entire outlook on life... it just does, and it will be something I will never forget and I know will help me through future down falls in life.
As for cooking, well, I feel a little intimidated at the thought of entertaining, but I will continue to learn and, most importantly, bake delicious, hot out of the oven, bread.