Vaporized

It happened here in my kitchen--a reminder that life is brief.

A few Saturday mornings ago, I opened my E-mail and discovered a writing friend from long ago was coming through the middle of the state. Could they swing by, about noon that day, so she could see me? We’d met at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers conference the year she was honored as its outstanding new writer. She has several books behind her now plus speaking here and abroad.

Noon…that calls for lunch. I decided chef’s salad would be a good choice, especially since we were having a mini-yard sale. I put four eggs on to boil and set the timer for twenty minutes, taking it with me to my writing corner.

About fifteen minutes later I smelled something bad and followed my hunch to the kitchen. While the eggs were happily rolling in boiling water, the red-hot burner had melted a hole in a plastic container of Stevia, a natural sugar substitute, sitting about six inches away. Stevia had poured out of a half-inch hole and headed right to the burner.

While I pulled away the mess with a damp cloth, I realized I was feeling very, very sick. After opening windows and turning on fans, I went outside for fresh air. Soon, my husband came in and discovered my mess and me sick. He called the Poison Control Center and they researched Stevia. It’s a plant sugar, so shouldn’t be toxic. But I took to bed by an open window like a lady of old on her fainting couch.

I was still pretty puny by the time my friend and her husband arrived. They’d gotten plenty of fresh air en route…on his motorcycle. As they pulled off chaps and got alerted to my “incident” (which really seemed insignificant...burnt sugar?) she graciously came in the kitchen and helped me pull together a salad. By then the odors had dissipated.

Later, I mentioned my feeling so silly about my cooking incident to my daughter…who mentioned it to her husband…who asked, “Was it odors from the melted plastic?” That seemed far-fetched until I did a little search on the ‘net and came across dire warnings about a toxic substance called dioxin released by burning plastic. So maybe there was a real reason I got so sick….

But the bigger perspective? I have it above my sink, just an arm’s length away from the stove, There I hung some calligraphy done years ago for me by the husband of my girlhood Camp Fire leader. (We’re talking ancient history.) Using a translation he especially appreciated, he chose an old-style alphabet for this from Psalm 90: “Our lives are over in a breath; Teach us to count how few days we have and so grain wisdom of heart. Let us wake in the morning filled with Your love and sing and be happy all our days.”

Tonight I speak to convicted drunk drivers, something I do every month as part of my “giving back” after surviving being hit by a drinking driver in 1997. That night, my life could have been over in a breath. I also realize how few days we have in eternity’s perspective. None of us can presume to live to old age. The time to love God and others is now.

How can I put a sweet ending on this? Well, it did involve “sugar,” or at least a sugar substitute! And trust me, it no longer sits on the stove where it was so handy to add to a cup of java. One time of being a dizzy graying brunette is enough. And by the way, my friend’s signature book and speaking topic is rising above your fears. Is that a funny coincidence, or what!