A little birdie told me that Kroger carries milk in returnable glass bottles. It seemed almost too good to be true, of course, but Sunday a week ago I decided to stop in and test the rumor.
The birdie sang true, folks.
Maybe I am the queen of nerds (I refer you to the above selfie), but this one fact has kept me smiling for the past week and a half. Aaron and I are continuously working toward a zero-waste lifestyle. Until now, finding plastic-free milk has been one hurdle we could not hop.
Milk just comes in plastic jugs, we thought.
Aaron and I resigned ourselves to the sad reality and drastically curbed our milk consumption. We got it down to one half-gallon every 10 days or so, essentially using milk for baking and yogurt only. When we had used up that half-gallon jug, I faithfully rinsed, crushed, and stuck it in the recycling bin.
Even at this modest rate, our two-folks-and-a-dog household was responsible for adding (at least!) 36.5 plastic jugs to the waste stream (yes, waste stream—recycling ultimately fails us) every year.
Unless we gave up milk entirely and started “milking” bulk-bin almonds, much to Aaron’s chagrin and our wallet’s shudder, we were stuck.
I. hate. feeling. stuck.
It is absolutely maddening, and an all too familiar sensation. In my line of work, and most every vocation on the planet, scheming ways to unstick oneself or one’s beloved organization from the status quo is matter of course.
It is gratifying to solve the puzzle with a flourish of creativity or an especially clever sequence. In fact, I take pride—and have quite a bit of fun—in finding ways to defect in place and thwart the ploys of consumerism and other unholy systemic constraints.
But then there are those things truly beyond my power.
And I see that I really am stuck.
And that this beautiful and broken world is stuck.
Yet, all the more glory to God.
It is important for me to realize the limit of my humanity. I can do a lot to love the world and care for creation, but I cannot bring it to wholeness. Like the host of Eves and Adams before me, I cannot breach Eden.
But Jesus can fix it. And He will.
The healing has already begun. It is starting to spread.
With the events of Holy Week at my back and Sunday within view, I look forward to celebrating Jesus’ victory over every stuck system in this world.
I look forward to renewing my allegiance to Jesus and entrusting my efforts to His creative, revolutionizing, and redemptive plan.
Feeling stuck reminds me I am human, but Easter makes me re-member myself in the Kingdom of God—a free creature joined to the work of a wild and holy Incarnate God.
There is wiggle room. And plastic-free milk.
Thanks be to God.