When pumpkins start popping up at local farms and grocery stores I get giddy anticipating our annual visit to the pumpkin patch. I visualize what our front porch will look like with a big fat splash of fiery pumpkin orange. Ultimately, this image triggers a memory of a pumpkin I had in college. My one moment of Bible school rebellion all started with a pumpkin.
Friday nights were not big “going out” nights for me in college. My phone wasn’t ringing off the hook with eager suitors. Guys weren’t lining up outside my dorm room anxiously waiting to spend a couple of hours in my presence. I was not a man magnet. I was a man repellent. Friday nights for me consisted of hanging out with other girls, late night Perkin’s coffee, and long heart-to-heart talks of life and love.
That is until a pumpkin rolled in to our lives. I really don’t remember how we acquired the giant squash, but eventually it ended up on the floor of the dorm room surrounded by a bunch of girls desperate for a little excitement. It has been a few years and honestly don’t remember whose bright idea it was, but some genius decided we should toss the giant orange fruit right out the window. We all agreed this would be fun (I feel so sorry for my college self – we must have been really bored and really hard up for good entertainment).
We managed to get the pumpkin up to the windowsill, and after confirming that there were no pedestrians in the vicinity of our target (because they were all out on dates), we launched our pumpkin missile to the ground…splat. Eyes bulging from their sockets in sheer disbelief that we had actually thrown the pumpkin out of our three-story window, nervous laughter slowly filled the open space in the room. We were really living on the edge now. Being the hardened Bible school rebels that we were, we were so incredibly riddled with guilt for having committed such a crime that we quickly threw our shoes on and headed down the stairs and out the door to clean up our sticky, gooey pumpkin-y mess.
No one witnessed our one moment of rebellion. Our dreams of becoming notorious were smashed the moment our pumpkin hit cold, damp ground. Friday nights resumed as usual: boring, uneventful and filled with the unspoken longings of love and adventure with a teeny tiny dash of defiance to show the tougher side of us.
Ultimately, some did find love and left our little tribe of lovelorn co-eds. Some stumbled into adventures and travels that swept them completely off their feet. And some spent the following years discovering and uncovering who they were meant to be…and eventually found something greater than they expected.
I’ve since hung up my Bible school rebellion days, and now the only smashing pumpkins I’m aware of are the ones I listen to on my iPod.
Yes. Pumpkins. They truly make me smile.