Why the name Through a Straw Hole? I'll tell you.
I reached a point in my life - an otherwise unremarkable afternoon in my early twenties - when I admitted to myself that all of my best ideas had brought me to my knees - scared to death, desperate for change, with no idea how to find it. It was probably the greatest moment in my life.
I say greatest because very soon afterward my life changed forever. I'm pretty sure it was the first time I told God I couldn't do it anymore, and not in a melodramatic ugh-this-sucks kind of way; like really, I can't do it anymore. Help me.
Maybe a few weeks later, on an atypical Friday night, I heard a speaker share something that gave me perspective - hope even. It was something along the lines of how we only see life through a straw hole. That's it. A straw hole. That's our entire field of vision. Yet I charged through life making major life decisions based on dangerously limited and questionable information. Gosh, maybe that's how I got myself to a place where I was questioning my sanity.
I soon came to believe that my particular brand of straw was more like a coffee straw - you know, infinitesimal and split down the middle - not very useful for more than stirring things up.
It might seem odd to say this brought me peace. Honestly. Peace. But it did. Because the end of that message was this: There is Someone bigger than me with the whole picture. And He's actually quite fond of me.
Below is a bendy, blue and white striped straw hole view of my kitchen. (that's a flower on the table)