Place

Disclaimer: I am so guilty of the following, that I hope you see this not so much as a charge from a guiltless judge, but more of an inner-workings-out of what's going on in my heart right now.

It seems to me that there is a very peculiar inclination of the human heart. We have the tendency to allow place and our sense of home/belonging to rise up in our hearts to a seat of great prominence. We identify ourselves and others with where we are from - which, oddly, may not be where we are living currently. What's one of the first things we ask a new person, or tell someone we've just met - where we're from, where we live. It can be general - New Jersey; regional - North Jersey; or specific - county/town. It seems innocuous and just idle chatter, but why is that what we go for instead of other topics? Why do we care about where people are from?

It's not as if this is a modern phenomenon. All through the Bible, in fact, the general theme for much of it, people are searching for home. Thrown from the Garden of Eden, we are ever wanderers, looking for the place where we belong. We are aliens, not at home here on this earth, but always searching for a place to call our own despite that. Ruth got it right when she left Moab with Naomi because she knew Naomi was more a definition of home than Moab. 

But what happens when we become so attached to where we were that we find ourselves unable to truly live where we are? 

I am always quick to lament the loss of good food - bagels, pizza, Chinese food, and diners do not exist here. At least, not with the quality which I grew up accustomed to eating. (Though, thank the Lord, we have found a good pizza place in Lexington, so I know there may be hope yet.) (And that is not a sarcastic thanks be to God, it's genuine.) And not only food, but The City, the Adirondacks, the Shore. All things irreplaceable. All things I love dearly. All things that are wrapped up in my sense of self. Even things like weather and seasonal patterns of agriculture. Family and friends go without saying.

I become so busy lamenting what I've "lost", that I forget to find the joy in what I've gained. Comparison is the thief of joy, as Teddy so eloquently pointed out, and joy ought to be the desire of our hearts.

But it goes beyond robbing ourselves of joy. It's straight up disobedience. I find myself thinking of Jonah here. He was so determined to not go where God had appointed him to go, that he spent three days and nights in the belly of a great fish. His disobedience led to his suffering greatly. My disobedience and hardened heart has led to my suffering (needlessly, I'd add). By not trusting God that he has brought me to a good place, how my heart has suffered in the throes of self-inflicted sorrow, jealousy, anger, bitterness, and grumbling. When God led my husband to a job 800 miles away from where we were hoping to live, from where our families lived, I can tell you that I channeled my inner Jonah. I suppose it helped that we had no other job offer to persuade us one way or the other, our path was quite clear. But it didn't help. I still grumbled. I still do grumble. Jonah never did "get it" in the end, but I know there's hope for me yet.

The strangest part of this whole problem for me personally is that I am an Anthropology major. I love people and places. I love to travel. My heart has yearned for nearly 20 years to be in Kenya. And yet I hold on to New Jersey like some kind of anchor.

Do you know what anchors do? My five year old told me about an imaginary anchor that would float in the air. Then she started laughing hysterically and proclaimed how silly that would be! Do you know why? Because even a child knows that anchors do not float. Anchors sink, grab hold of the bottom, and stop the ship. Even a very great ship is held by an anchor properly placed. Anchors, however, can be hauled up and put down in new ports.

There should be no anchors in my life that keep me from moving forward. Forward in the direction I ought to go. Forward without grumbling or complaining. Forward to the far horizons.

New places do not mean that old places aren't important. But we can not physically live in two places at once, and our hearts shouldn't strive to either. 

Ebenezers are stones of remembrance, erected under the direction of the Lord, to ensure we don't forget His goodness and faithfulness. They are used to help us teach our children as we pass by them. The old places do not need to be forgotten, but Ebenezers are not meant to be idols.

The places we have come from have influenced us, formed our view of life and our place in it, but we should not confuse that with our inherent worth and self. By rejecting the new places, and honoring the old, we take the gift God has given us, and rob it of the joy with which it was given. Once again, our pride and disobedience declares that we know better, and that everything would be much better, if only He had let us stay right where we were before. For pete's sake, even the Israelites, after escaping from Egypt, declared it would have been better to remain slaves that be brought to die in the desert. But they didn't die then, they were saved.

By remaining obedient and faithful, trusting the Lord's wisdom and not our own, we can start to let go of the petty things that seem so important - food, fairs, cities, mountains, and beaches - and begin to appreciate the good things we have here and now. Wherever we may lay our head at night becomes home simply because we remember that our home isn't here anyway.

"For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling" 

2 Corinthians 5:1,2

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I headed into James 3 today. It seemed particularly relevant in light of the current cultural climate, right after the State of the Union and all that. (Amazing how the Bible seems to be for all people, for all times. But I digress...)

Generally, I hate politics. No, correction, I hate talking about politics. People who like to talk about politics are passionate. And you know what passion breeds? It breeds an air of pridefulness that begets rudeness, coarse language, and disrespect. This happens because, of course, we all believe that we are on the side of right, sometimes Right, and if we don't allow that we might be wrong, we aren't open to discussions that actually progress. When you enter a debate, you are hoping to win over your opponent, so naturally, you defend yourself as to be not allowed to be persuaded that they may, in any way at all, be right. That right there is some Grade A Pride. And it's not just politics, that just happens to be the area where I find it the most distasteful. It might be some other area for you - theology, parenting, sports, etc.

Well, this is to be somewhat expected from a large section of the population. We can not hold to account those who are not committed to living life in step with Christ. If someone doesn't sign a contract, you can't hold them to its terms. Though, I should say, that most people have a sense that we ought to be civil and polite - this is one of those culturally understood things. There's at least a pretense most of the time.

But I find myself both frustrated and saddened by the blatant disrespect I see at large in the Christian community. How are we to be salt and light when we have no distinguishing factors? How can we claim to be set apart when our actions and speech so closely resemble those around us? Many communities of faith hold to a standard of living in grace - there are certain non-negotiables in the tenets of Christian doctrine (although even this is sort of unclear and has led to all kinds of sects, cults, denominations, etc) - but there are areas where we allow one another to live in grace because there isn't any clear cut right or wrong answer. 

Should you buy a Toyota or a Ford - or must all Christians drive a Chrysler? Or should all Christians forego driving and use the money they save on gas and ownership to fund orphanages in third world nations? Yes, of course that's a silly one, but sometimes the things we hold one another to are silly things.

One area that is explicitly clear in the Bible is that we are to be in control of our tongues (and I'm sure that fingers would have been included had the Holy Spirit chosen to reveal the future nature of our communication). This means more than not swearing, lying, sharing dirty jokes, name-calling, or being rough and sarcastic.

It extends to the way that we treat others. And not only other believers. Anyone can be kind about people who agree with them.

Our speech should be such that it is gracious and kind. And I'm not saying we need to go around talking like we're a bunch of empty-headed shadows. What I'm saying is that every person you encounter, read about, or see is made in the image of God. That alone deserves respect. That alone should make them worthy of the time it takes to edit yourself whether in speaking to or about them in person or an online forum. 

Everyone knows you should never read the comments section on blogs or articles. If you really want to support the theory that the milk of human kindness has run dry, simply pop on over to any blog, however uncontroversial, and you're bound to find that some fight has broken out. And not just disagreements, but all out ugliness.

And we all tsk-tsk and shake our heads saying, "Wow, people, if you wouldn't say it in person, don't say it on the internet" or "I know I should never read the comments. What a bunch of wack-a-doos" or "Who are these people that post on the internet?".

Friends, they are us! We post on the internet. We get into fights on forums and in the comments sections of "news" articles and blog posts. We write either openly harsh or passive-aggressive status updates on Facebook. It's not just "them" - whoever "them" happens to be at the moment. (Oh, it is so hard not changing that to "they"... squirm.)

Pundits love to rail on and on about personal responsibility. Guess what? We are personally responsible to act in a manner that is befitting a child of God. That means our speech ought to show respect to those who are made in the likeness of God. That would be, let me see... Everyone!

The stubborn, backwards thinking super-conservative? Yes. The stubborn, backwards thinking super-liberal? Yes. The President of the United States and other political figures leading us? Yes. The teacher that didn't pass your child because your child failed to do the work required? Yes. The mom the does/does not cloth diaper/wear their baby/breastfeed/co-sleep/stay-at-home? Yes. A million times yes. No, nearly 7 billion times yes.

But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.  And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.

James 3:17,18

Worry & Grace

I am not a worrier. At least, not generally. I would say that I can most accurately be described as a go-with-the-flow kind of gal. If I'm really honest with myself, I'd say I'm proud of that. 

I like not being a worry-wart. It gives me confidence to know that I can handle most anything that happens. Schedule upsets? No big deal - though, let's be honest, there are rarely any real schedules to keep. Unknown future? What good would knowing do me anyway? I can not change what may or may not happen, and I could only prepare so much because it will probably not pan out as predicted. If I was a worrier, someone who needed that control over life, I would waste the day away fretting about how it isn't fitting my expectations or desires. I very much like not fretting.

And besides, I can always give myself a big pat on the back and say, "Ah, good job. You are not a worry kind of gal. You get extra brownie points because you are extra obedient to Jesus' words (Matthew 6). And not just Jesus, but Paul too (Philippians 4). Well done, you!"

Isn't that what we all want to do? Give ourselves a pat on the back for being super spiritual?

Really, truly, though, there are some things I do worry about. And they are inevitably silly things most of the time, and nearly all in the past. A few examples:

One thing I worry about is whether or not I went on a date with someone in college. Back story: went to see a movie with some friends. Some time later, someone asked if it was a double date. I didn't know. Then I worried that it was, but that I wasn't aware it was, and that maybe I hurt someone's feelings because I didn't know it was. But how could I know if no one told me? It doesn't matter. I still regret not knowing, not for my own sake, but for his. And of course I'll never know now. This was eons ago. Ages and ages. And it doesn't even matter at all, but I still find myself worrying about it.

Another thing I often worry about occurred around Easter of 2007. We had gone to Walmart and it was packed. Supremely busy. We grabbed whatever one or two items we had gone in for, then hopped into the self-checkout lane. A lady waiting a few turns behind us started an argument with me over something silly, then ended in a huff with, "I'll be sure to pray for you, 'cause you sure need it." I nearly cried (I'd chalk it up to hormones since I had just found out I was pregnant with A), and got very flustered. I still worry about that woman, about that whole interaction. What did I do wrong? What could I have done differently to ease her night and make her Easter better? Nothing, I'm sure, but it still bothers me 5 years later.

I worry that the words I speak to strangers might break their spirits. I worry that perhaps the day I'm in a bit of a huff with a particularly slow checker at the store might be the day they are suffering. Perhaps that is the day that they so badly need a smile and a friendly chat from someone, anyone.

It does no good dwelling on the past, but the memories haunt me all the same. I never will know if I went on that date, and I never will know how that night could have turned out in Walmart if I had just held my tongue when the lady first started to snap at me.

But I do know that I can adjust my expectations and attitude to find grace in the future. I can be kinder, gentler, more gracious. In fact, as I have grown older, and undoubtedly wiser - I'm sure you'll agree,  I have this desire to be gracious. When I am gone from this life, I want people to say, "What a gracious woman, Bekea was. How well she soothed and encouraged those around her." (Or something to that effect anyway, feel free to ad lib as necessary since I don't want the service getting too redundant.)

I want to be the balm that soothes the weary, broken, discouraged, or otherwise needy spirits I may meet along the way.

I never want to worry that I am the root of someone's bitterness, discouragement, despair, or discontent.

My heart's desire is to be a beacon of God's grace. I don't ever think it should be hard - I'm friendly, kind, compassionate, hospitable (I know, I know, humble, too). Seriously, though, I sometimes joke that I do belong in Kenya because I so very easily expect everyone to find themselves welcome at my home any time - provided they do not mind the mess, noise, and munchkins. I deeply love people. If you are a friend I made in college, we may have lost touch and are no longer as close as we once were, but my love has not dimmed. I'm merely a pathetic failure when it comes to keeping in touch. If letters were written purely by intention and love found in the heart/mind, consider yourselves all recipients of many, many more letters. To remember things like "Blessed so that I may bless".

I just wish I could be better at getting that out into real life. Practically speaking, I am not a very good beacon because I am, in truth, a bit lazy, quite forgetful and I procrastinate often.

What really worries me though, is that by putting this out there, and by professing that my heart's desire is to grow and change, that I'll be forced to undergo some moments of growth and change

Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. 

(Pr 16:24)

And I really do wish I could find out about some of those things in the past - like that date/non-date. It'd help me move on to something else to worry about, haha!

Another recipe

One thing I love about spring and summer is the abundance of delicious food we get from our CSA box. Sometimes there are things that we aren't too sure what to do with them - though our farm does provide some recipes to help out - and other times I can barely wait for the first week we get a favorite item.

In last week's box, we got quite a few greens - as you're going to at the start of a season - including a huge head of Napa cabbage. I had a few ideas of how to use it, but ultimately decided that I was in the mood for cole slaw. No one else in my family particularly likes it, which is fine by me! So I grabbed a few things that I needed to use up and concocted one of my favorite slaws to date.

Dan claimed this was the best cole slaw he's ever eaten. He doesn't like cole slaw, so I think that's a compliment. He had a serving and didn't balk. I'm sticking by his statement.

Now, my measurements are estimations since I didn't actually measure anything out. Also, since I used whatever was on hand, you can feel free to adjust as necessary. I think one of the beautiful things about most recipes, particularly salads, is that you can add in whatever you had around. This would also be tasty with some broccoli or carrots thrown in.

So here you go, my Napa Cabbage Slaw, or The Best Slaw Dan's Ever Eaten

For the dressing:

1/2 c  Mayonnaise

1/4 c  Greek Yogurt (Sour Cream would probably work too)

2 T    Apple Cider Vinegar

1/2 t  Kosher Salt

1/2 t  Celery Seed (I love Celery Seed!)

1/4 t  Ground Black Pepper

Combine all in a medium bowl until blended and creamy

For the salad:

1 Large Head Napa Cabbage Shredded/cut into thin ribbons

1 Tart Apple, julienne/thinly sliced - I used Fuji, but Granny Smith would be divine

2 Small Cucumbers, seeded and julienne/thinly sliced (I didn't cut the seeds out of one cuke and it added a lot of water)

Combine in a large bowl. Pour on dressing and coat well. Cover and refrigerate for a few hours - the longer the better. I had some for breakfast and it was somehow even better than at dinner. 

I love summertime salads - no cooking, no heat, no boiling water to add to the humidity. Ahhh. Give me greens in the summer and I am on happy lady.

Bitter Roots

I'm generally of the mind that we ought to mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice. It runs counter to my nature to hold against someone the blessings God has given them, and I don't say this in some kind of boastful way. In reality, I recognize this personality trait as a God-given gift and over time, I've seen myself mature in the way I am able to be compassionate and caring towards others, because there was certainly a time in my life when I was not mature. When I'm able to comfort a friend, I am able to praise God that I was given the right words or actions at the right time. I know that not everyone is given the same gifts, and I appreciate that some people are able to be administrators because they have the discipline and self-control to be persistent and follow-through without procrastination (because I am not that person!).

Even though I'm not blessed with the same gifts that someone else may possess, it doesn't let me off the hook. I'm still commanded in the Word to be Holy (1 Peter 1), and to clothe myself with humility, seeking to be evermore like Christ. Which, of course, is hard. Patience has never been my strong-suit, but does that mean I can simply snap at my children and write it off as a personality flaw that I've been doomed with since birth? N-to-the-O! 

In the same way, there is no excuse for jealousy or ingratitude. And, let's be honest here, they go hand in hand. When the ugly green monster of envy rears its ugly head, what flows forth from the mouth except that which is in the heart? Ingratitude, bitterness, hate, covetousness, rudeness and idolatry just to name a few.

And you know what the worst part is? Most of those emotions, directed towards others and their circumstances, are truly being directed at God (James 3). When we whine or complain that we don't have the newest, best, biggest whatever, or when we moan and groan that we are in some circumstance in life that we wish was otherwise, what are we doing but telling God that he has not given us enough? Or that we somehow know better than He does about our own circumstances? And yet He tells us in Isaiah 55:

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." We can't even fathom the depths of the Lord's mind, and yet we presume to think we know so much better.

By doing so we are only giving into our own flesh and the selfish desires we harbor in the darkness of our hearts. But if we have been redeemed, we can't have any part of this. We're reminded over and over again that we are now children of the light, and we must put off the things that we did when we were in darkness (Romans 13, John 3, Ephesians 5, James 3, 1 Peter 1, 1 Thessalonians 4, Hebrews 12... and on and on).

So what's our excuse? I am, of course, left without one. At least any legitimate one. And so it's time to clip the bitter roots and strive for contentment and love.

Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no "root of bitterness" springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled;   Hebrews 12:14&15

Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.   Romans 12:9-16

Sinless

I've been known to have a strange and wandering mind. I'll find myself thinking on something and be halfway down two dozen rabbit trails within a minute. It's probably a family trait, as I've seen it play out in conversations amongst my extended family. Start on one topic with four people and about two minutes later we've got seven different conversations going on.

So, all that to say, my mind. It wanders.

At Christmas time I thought about who could have been there for Mary during the birthing of Christ. Due to Jewish cleanliness laws, I have no trouble believing Joseph (who is called "faithful to the law" in Matthew 1) had no part in it. It'd be unheard of in that culture. So another woman (or women) no doubt. And seeing as how everyone was coming into Bethlehem, I find it easy to assume that they probably weren't even alone in that stable. Who else would the inn maker have offered it to in order to make a little more money during this extremely busy time? And if not even a person staying at the inn, surely there would have been a woman nearby who would have been sought out. It's not as if childbirth is this quiet, peaceful event. So I always wonder - who was the woman/women blessed enough to usher Jesus into the world? 

Anyway, that thought niggled my mind. (What? Niggled is a word, my spell check says so...) As I came into the Lenten and Easter season, being a mother, once again I thought of Mary. My dear, sweet, wonderful children are perfection. But, they are also dear, sweet, wonderful human beings. So they sin. It seems to happen quite often. I began to wonder how life must have been for Mary (and Joseph), raising a sinless son. Surely there were still frustrations and arguments because Mary, after all, was human. She sinned. So did she recognize that her son was sinless and that any hindrance in that perfect familial relationship was purely  from her own failings? How long did it take before she realized this? And what about his half-siblings? How did they feel having a perfectly sinless brother? I mean, couldn't that get down right annoying? Or would it all have been ok, since, ya know, Jesus would have handled it all perfectly.

I don't intend any disrespect or facetiousness. I honestly wonder. Because how often do we attribute the frustrations of motherhood on the actions or attitudes of our children? But how often ought we to really consider that we are also to blame? All the time, it seems to me.

So my heart goes out to Mary, living with her sinless son, all the while harboring her own sinful heart.

Comfort (Warning: VERY long post ahead)

It isn't unusual for babies and small children to have some kind of security blanket or comforting friend.  I mean, even my 20 year old brother still sleeps with Blank, and I'm pretty sure he's not embarrassed to admit it. I'll admit that I have a teddy I sleep with, gifted to me by my husband as the first birthday gift of our relationship.

As with all things, no two kids are ever the same in the way they need comforting. My daughter, AM, is three now (be still my heart). When she was only a few months old, someone gifted her a very soft & fuzzy white blanket - only about 12 inches square - that had a small angel tucked into a pair of wings. The angel was quickly abandoned, but that blanket has stayed. "Fuzzy", as he is affectionately called (yes, he), could be found stuffed under AM's nose, and is usually a dull gray color between washings. I'd post a picture, but it'd probably gross you out. My very thoughtful mother-in-law even saved us by buying 2 more of the exact same blanket to use as backups (we quickly stopped bringing him into stores for safety reasons). Of course now all 3 are often needed, though we can usually manage to convince her that one will suffice. Car trips, nap & bed time and general being around the house are all occasions to need Fuzzy within reach. When it came time to send AM to preschool, we were able to convince her that Fuzzy would keep her car seat safe and warm while she went to play. I'll be honest, I was a bit worried.

EF has never had any one toy or blanket he felt particularly drawn to as a source of comfort. I think AM's devotion is enough for all. Though, bless her sweet heart, if EF is feeling blue, AM will offer up a Fuzzy to him. You have no idea the level of sacrifice this entails. This simple act of empathy always make my heart grow 20 sizes as it swells with pride and joy. What else can fill a mother's heart as she sees such displays between her children?

Those simple acts remind me so clearly that God uses humble and seemingly foolish acts to demonstrate his own qualities. If my daughter is able to find comfort in a blanket, and then share that comfort with her little brother, how much more will the God of all things lavish his comfort on my own troubled spirit?

2010 was a year when I needed God's comfort in a profound and extreme way. Few people know that before Ainsley, Dan and I were expecting another child. It was with joy we found ourselves "in the family way" just about a month and a half after getting married. And it was with a very heavy heart that we celebrated our first Christmas as a couple, no longer looking toward a baby in our future. The first few months I spent here were lonely - new state, new apartment, no job, no car - and then were filled with the grief of losing my child. I thought I could never feel so devastated again. I was wrong.

In July, Dan and I discovered I was pregnant again. We were nervous - 3 kids ages three and under left us thinking that life was about to get extraordinarily overwhelming - but so joyful. Children are always a blessing and we knew that the Lord was able to give us beyond all that we'd need. Little did we know that once again we'd have to walk the dark road of grief. And let me be honest here - you may think going through something you've gone through before makes you prepared to handle it. You'd be wrong. In fact, this time around, it seemed things were harder, the grief heavier. I'd say it's because we knew the joy of children, and were somehow more aware of all the potential joy now taken away. I'd say it's because you think after going through two healthy and relatively easy pregnancies (as if any pregnancy could be called easy! HA!), you think you're safe, protected. (Obviously that's just not true, but it doesn't stop you from believing it anyway.) I'd say it's because this has been a time when most of my friends have announced their own expected bundles of joy. Now, let me make this very, very clear: I am so insanely happy for the friends of mine who are about to become parents (whether for the first or second or third or... you name it... time), but it also breaks my heart a little bit. With every announcement (and I counted at least 2 dozen among my Facebook friends within a few months), I felt reminded that I was no longer on the list. With every status update about sleepless nights, weird cravings, contractions, milestones and ultrasounds, I felt the painful stab of knowing that I wasn't experiencing the same thing. 

I needed God's comfort. I needed it bad. I was getting so depressed, it was beginning to play out in my life. I would find myself snapping at AM and EF as it insidiously eroded away my patience. My head was saying, "Snap out of it. You know God loves you. You know He plans all things and is wiser than you'll ever be. It's not their fault, stop taking it out on them", but my heart was just crying out and seeking ways to make others as miserable as myself. I spent nights unable to sleep, tossing and turning with the thoughts of my children I would never hold. I sought consolation among friends who have experienced miscarriages, or who knew me through other terrible moments in my life. And, as one friend shared, "It's like carrying a 500 lb stone for the rest of your life. It's not that the stone gets lighter, it's that you get stronger."

In effect, I was trying to make myself unavailable to the comfort and grace God wanted to lavish upon me. I would shake my minuscule fists and scream, "I'm angry. I'm hurt. You have taken away such joy. I don't trust you to give me anymore." And most people would stop there, nursing the anger and frustration until there was such a wall built up that it seemed impenetrable. What foolishness. God can do all things, and he promises to give us comfort. It took a long time, the prayers of many and immersing myself in the promises laid out in places like the Psalms, Lamentations and even the New Testament. 

Why should we ever seek comfort anywhere else? 

Lamentations 3

¹⁸ So I say, “My splendor is gone
   and all that I had hoped from the LORD.”  ¹⁹ I remember my affliction and my wandering,
   the bitterness and the gall.
²⁰ I well remember them,
   and my soul is downcast within me.
²¹ Yet this I call to mind
   and therefore I have hope:
 ²² Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed,
   for his compassions never fail.
²³ They are new every morning;
   great is your faithfulness.
²⁴ I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion;
   therefore I will wait for him.”
 ²⁵ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
   to the one who seeks him;
²⁶ it is good to wait quietly
   for the salvation of the LORD.
²⁷ It is good for a man to bear the yoke
   while he is young.
 ²⁸ Let him sit alone in silence,
   for the LORD has laid it on him.
²⁹ Let him bury his face in the dust—
   there may yet be hope.
³⁰ Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him,
   and let him be filled with disgrace.
 ³¹ For no one is cast off
   by the Lord forever.
³² Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
   so great is his unfailing love.
³³ For he does not willingly bring affliction
   or grief to anyone. 

And so while I would gladly welcome a new bundle any time now, I can honestly say that I am finally feeling that comfort. I'm no longer devastated when I read all those Facebook statuses. And I can never thank the Lord enough for opening my eyes to the grace that has been there all the time. (and those who have been lifting me up before the Father)

Once

I once started this blog. It was a place I was going to visit. And friends were going to visit too. We were going to share our journeys together - have some fun, shed some tears and generally just, you know, make our every move and feeling available to the whole wide world. This crazy internets thing.

But, as is my fashion, I discarded the blog after only 13 posts. Thirteen little gems that talked about food and fitness and ... something else that might start with F. I can't really bring any good ones to mind. You see, as much as I love to have others hear my brilliance (and there is so much to share), I just have never been very good at discipline (you may have noticed from the tone of the other posts, ahem).

Also, there is a certain lack of time. Every now and again I'd think of something I'd like to share, but it just never happens because there are two small children that live here. And a grown man. And a dog. But no more fish. The fish died over Christmas - I think we kept the house too cold while we were gone. It's ok, though, none of us were really that attached to the fish. Anyway! Time happens. And it keeps on happening. And it slips by faster and faster (like toilet paper). So, the blog, never a real priority, slipped on down the stream.

But I did want to share some things with the new year. I love The Valley of Vision. Have I shared this before? (Thank you, dear Hannah, for sharing it with me in the first place.) And there is a prayer in there that is often on my heart. In fact, I'd say right around Thanksgiving, as my birthday approaches along with all those other holidays, my mind begins to turn on the thoughts shared within those verses. It doesn't need much of an introduction, because, I'll be honest here, the words are so beautiful on their own, I hate to mess them up with my own cluttered thoughts and emotions. But it brings me to tears (or nearly) every time I read/meditate on it.

So, as you start your new year (isn't every day new year's day? I mean, it's always a year until this day comes back again... I digress, as usual), please enjoy this.

Year's End

O Love beyond Compare,

Thou art good when thou givest,

when thou takest away,

when the sun shines upon me,

when night gathers over me.

Thou hast loved me before the foundation of the world,

and in love didst redeem my soul;

Thou dost love me still,

in spite of my hard heart, ingratitude, distrust.

Thy goodness has been with me another year,

leading me through a twisting wilderness,

in retreat helping me to advance,

when beaten back making sure headway.

Thy goodness will be with me in the year ahead;

I hoist sail and draw up anchor,

With thee as the blessed pilot of my future as of my past.

I bless thee that thou hast veiled my eyes to the waters ahead.

If thou hast appointed storms of tribulation,

thou wilt be with me in them;

If I have to pass through tempests of persecution and temptation,

I shall not drown;

If I am to die,

I shall see thy face the sooner;

If a painful end is to be my lot,

grant me grace that my faith fail not;

If I am to be cast aside from the service I love,

I can make no stipulation;

Only glorify thyself in me whether in comfort or trial,

as a chosen vessel meet always for thy use.

Amen! And let me tell you, I've had some trials in 2010. I mean, who has a year that doesn't include trials?! But that's for another post...

love.

Living with Thanks

One of my favorite hymns of the Lenten/Easter season. is To God Be The Glory. The melody is written with such joy, and the lyrics are so true, that it just lifts me up every time. Glory be to God for his great gift to us, and let the words we sing truly be a blessing to Him.

I can't remember the last time I actually got to sing that song. Perhaps last year at this time? I don't know. I hope we have a chance to sing it this year... If not, I'll be singing here at home at any rate.

Songs are one of the greatest ways we can give praise to the Lord. Even if you aren't what most people would consider a great singer, or even a mediocre one, it's ok. I'm fairly certain the Lord does not take into account the tone and key of your praises if offered in genuine faith and God-glorifying ways. (Of course this isn't to disparage good singers - they have the responsibility and privilege of blessing both God and others through their talent.)

But as someone who falls into the not quite good category, I find comfort in the fact that my only audience is God. And my kids, who have yet to complain and often ask for more. 

Why are people so scared to sing in front of others when it's a hymn or song of worship? I find it's usually, but not by any means always, the guys who are more nervous and apt to mutter their way through a song that is bursting with joy. Not sure if there are any fellas out there who read this, but if there are, could help a sister out? Or, sister types who may share in the timid singing, feel free to help out too. Because I know some people who are really, really bad at singing (not to name names, but let's just say I've known a great man who is a terrible singer for going on 28 years now), but they still belt it out. Perhaps it's just getting to a place where you are more comfortable with God than with others around you.

I know that I struggle with praying out loud in front of others, so perhaps it's the same feeling? In my case, though, I know it's about the words I have to say. When I can read aloud a prayer from Valley of Vision, I'm ok, but praying on the spot can make me nervous. With hymns, the words are there for you. But I suppose it's still that feeling of messing up? I don't know.

I love corporate worship. It's one of the things the church should be about. The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. I believe it. We should be singing the Doxology all the time in our hearts. Praising and thanking the God from whom all blessings flow; perhaps rotating the Doxology with the Gloria Patri.

Maybe it's because I started out my Christian faith in a Presbyterian church that sang the Gloria Patri every week, along with reciting Apostle's Creed, but I find we don't sing/say them enough. In fact, I went from using these every week, to a church where we said them often, but not each week, to a church where they are never spoken at all. I have to admit I find that kind of strange. It seems like a good idea to corporately say, "This is what we believe" - to remind ourselves of this. Now, I don't think we need to go all high order or anything and recite them every week, that becomes too rote for most people. I keep meaning to ask my pastor's why our church doesn't ever use them at all. Is there some great secret about them? I don't know.

Anyway... All this to say, we should consistently have a song in our heart, offering praise to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, without whom we would have nothing, and be nothing.

And we're back!

Is over a month long enough between blog posts? Yes, I believe it is.

The race has come and gone. I did much better than I anticipated - nabbing a time of 22:53. It must have been ordained because my race number was 222. Overall, I'm very pleased with how I did, particularly considering my training for the previous month had been rather slack. With traveling to northern climes, sickness making its rounds again and again through our small family, Dan's long hours at work and my general laziness, I went in rather nervous on Saturday. It was obvious to me I'd finish, but how well I would do was not entirely clear to me. But my gracious Heavenly Father provided perfect running weather - cool and overcast. This may seem an odd description of perfect running weather, but I tell you it is - no sun to be in your eyes, cool so you don't overheat (as running really does make you warm enough), but not so cold that your lungs freeze (this is important. I promise).

One interesting thing was trying to pace myself amongst this huge crowd of people. According to the website, there were 1556 people that finished the race. You can imagine how it felt just before the air horn sounded the start - all of us crowded onto the street in less than one city block, moving to keep warm and glancing around or talking to friends. I felt kind of awkward being alone, but one the air horn sounded, it was fine. I was in my own world. Eventually, I settled into a groove where I was comfortable - mixing running with fast walking - and I began to notice the people around me. One person I noticed was a girl who I think was about my age, and to be honest, seemed about my skill level. I used her to pace myself, and I could tell she was probably doing the same. We'd pass each other often, usually walking and running in similar intervals. Essentially, I used a total stranger to spur me on when I had no one else (Dan and Ainsley were great cheerleaders at the finish line, but that was 20 minutes away). 

If I'm able to feel that encouragement from a stranger in a stressful situation, imagine the encouragement we garner from our friends!

There's a blog post that I have been working on for a month now. While I was home with my parents, I was able to attend their church. It's pastored by my former youth pastor, who I love dearly and have always found to be one of the best speakers I've ever heard. The week I was there, he spoke on the ten lepers healed by Jesus, and how only one returned to offer thanksgiving. You can listen here: http://ctknj.wordpress.com/ctk-blog/sermons-2009/ (it's the sermon from 2/21). It really resonated with other thoughts I'd already been trying to process, and post on here, but life got in the way and this blog became back burner charcoal. So in the meantime, listen to it, and then I'll be back with thoughts!

Meandering Back

When I was younger, I would play a game with myself - I'd memorize license plates and people's features in the hopes that something major was about to happen and the police would need an eyewitness. I wanted to be that eyewitness. Now, I also enjoyed reading a book full of crime scene photos to try and figure out what happened, so perhaps I was a bit preoccupied with justice from a young age ;) That, or I was just a weirdo. But anyway. 

(Now, before you say, "Why would any parent let their kid read such a thing?!" - because you know you're thinking it - let me tell you that I'm not even sure where the book came from, or that my parents knew I had it on my bookshelves in my closet. Yes, shelves. I had many, many books. So they can't be blamed for my interesting reading habits.)

I could memorize phone numbers after hearing or seeing them once. It was no trouble for me to find my way places after one visit (which, thankfully, I can still do most of the time. Being blessed with a sense of direction is nothing to sneeze at, trust me). People's names and faces were easily connected in my mind, along with what they were wearing, where they stood and even how they spoke.

Honestly, I had a gift.

And yet, somewhere between then and now I've lost it. Gone. Never to return. Not sure if it's my old age (I mean, seriously, I'm practically hobbling along) or the fact that I've given birth to two small humans, but my brain has left the building. Let's blame this one on the kids. During both pregnancies I'd lovingly refer to my children as parasites. Dan didn't like that so much, but he didn't experience the mind-numbing effects that a pregnancy can bring on - exhaustion from sharing all you have with another being, and slowly having your brains drip down the umbilical cord. This has led me to a theory that the reason we have generational sin is because as our dear children are in-utero, they are able to basically download all our past transgressions and store them for future use. Whether it be a stubborn and contrite spirit, or a general mischievousness, those kids have learned it all from sucking out my memories.

Anyway, scientific hypothesis aside, suffice it to say that this old gray mare, she ain't what she used to be. And somehow this makes me develop a restlessness like never before. I've always been a fairly restless person. I'm not the type to want to stay home all the time. Let me go, let me out, let me run free across the mountains and prairies! I could not wait to leave for college and explore the world. Every other week as a child I'd want to be something else, go somewhere else, find something new to discover. Basically I was, and still am, a career schizophrenic. Truly I think there are so many jobs I'd love (as long as they allow creative freedom and don't make me sit behind a desk 9-5).

I was reminded of this last night. For the past few days I've been messing around with different signs, cards and other goodies that let me flex any creative muscles my taxed brain has left. Whenever I start getting involved in projects like this, I think to myself, "Self, you could have a lot of fun as a graphic designer." You can also insert fabric, stationery (but definitely not stationary), cake or just about any art for graphic in that sentence.

Then, I watched an interesting program on KET about an anthropologist named Melville Herskovits. I don't remember hearing about him before, but it's entirely possible I spent a semester on him. (Please see previous paragraphs for explanations as to how this is so) He studied under Franz Boas, an anthropologist who is considered the founding father of American anthropology, and someone who is near and dear to my heart. (Not like that hag Margaret Mead, but we won't go into that here, since most of you are already lost I'm sure) At any rate, it made my heart ache to be back learning under Dr. Hummer and Dr. Meneses. I think the time I spent at Eastern in the Anthropology & Missions dept. was one of the best of my life. The friends in those classes are on my mind often, and just bring a smile to my face. Watching just made me so wistful, and I began to think of all the different paths my life could have taken if I had made different choices to pursue academia more.

But my life didn't take those paths. There are no alternate universes. (I have never ever seen an episode of Lost in my life, but noticed a lot of Facebook status updates today regarding this show and the idea of alternate universes. Any references made in the comments will be utterly lost on me - no pun intended) And I think part of the working out, as it were, of my restless mind and nature is one of the reasons I so often fail when I set goals for myself. I get bored, distracted and forgetful, and abandon half finished projects for the next thing.

Lately I've been so busy, then sick, that I've had nearly no opportunity to run or work out. And I find myself half wanting to head over the the track, and half wanting to just say, "Oh forget it, it's only a fun run, so I can walk that whole thing". That, however, would mean I had once again failed to finish, and let my restless (and yet lazy) spirit take the victory.

So tomorrow I'm going running. (Tonight we have potluck at church, and I've missed two weeks in a row already. Since this is my primary social event of the week, I just can't miss again or I'll go crazy). And this weekend I'll go running.

I've got to give focus to the wanderlust of my heart. Or it may just wander off on to another trail again, and we can't have that now.

Busy Bodies

I've had lots of plans to write here, but life has been really busy, mostly because Dan has been really busy. It's a wonderful blessing that he has a secure, well-paying job, but it'd be nice if they didn't rely on him so much! He's the go-to guy on things he doesn't even work on, and is often called on to fix things other people just can't figure out (despite it being their job to figure it out). So most days this past week were spent going in early and coming home late. Which meant I had lots and lots of time with the kids. All this led to pure exhaustion on both our parts.

So I didn't get to run or work out much.

That's what I was trying to say.

On Sunday, we went to the pool down the street for a family swim time, and apparently our whole day had the same idea! On the way in, I slipped and fell (it was a rainy day). Since I was holding Eben, I pretty much let my one knee take the fall, and now it is a-hurtin'. I find it funny that injuries tend to hurt more a day or two later than the initial incident; I guess because it has time to swell and all that.

I wanted to take a chance to thank all of you who have been praying for me, particularly in regards to my spirit of despondency. Despite the physical exhaustion of this past week, I've been feeling much more joyful and content in spirit. I know this is a direct result of prayers on my behalf because there is no other reason, and many to the contrary, why I should now be less melancholy.

So thank you! And here's hoping I'll be able to keep up a bit better now that Dan has solved the world's problems... Ok, at least at work. (for people half-way around the world)

results

Yesterday I learned that I lost 2 lbs this past week. Hooray! While I'm not in this whole running thing to lose weight alone, it sure is nice that I am losing some! Like, I'm really really excited. A lot.

That's about it. I just had to share. haha

A little help

Yesterday I got an email reminding me that the Shamrock Shuffle is a mere 53 (52 at this point) days away. It was good to know, but also daunting because I have felt very unmotivated lately... Beyond running on Friday and Saturday, I've done nothing since to help move forward. This lack of motivation is seriously bumming me out. I think a bit of music would help... Music has that amazing ability to inspire us, calm us and speak to and for us when we seem otherwise unable to find words.

I realized that while I don't need an mp3 player (especially since I know Dan and I have killed 2 since being married), I'd really like one. But then I thought about what I'd like to put on it. What are some songs you love to listen to while cleaning, working out, running or driving? I listen to a pretty eclectic mix of stuff, but trying to figure out what would really keep me going was a bit hard as most of it is pretty mellow. I know my bluegrass stuff would have enough pep to keep me a-runnin', but I thought I'd turn to my friends for suggestions of their favorites.

(Also, though somewhat of a sidenote, I'm trying to find some albums that feature hymns. But not over-produced or overdone. Just simple, so that I can sing along as I go through the day. I find so many are either big productions or lousy quality. Anyone have some great ones they love?)

And in return, readers, I will share this delicious recipe. We tried it over the weekend and I can assure you that I was looking forward to leftovers once the meal ended! A great vegetarian option, too, for those who are so inclined.

Cavatappi with Spinach, Garbanzo Beans, and Feta

Yield: 12 servings (serving size: 1 1/3 cups)

Ingredients

• 8  cups  coarsely chopped spinach
• 8  cups  hot cooked cavatappi (about 12 ounces uncooked spiral-shaped pasta)
• 1  cup  (4 ounces) crumbled feta cheese
• 1/4  cup  olive oil
• 2  tablespoons  fresh lemon juice
• 1/2  teaspoon  salt
• 1/2  teaspoon  black pepper
• 2  (19-ounce) cans chickpeas (garbanzo beans) or other white beans, drained
• 4  garlic cloves, crushed
• Freshly ground pepper
• Lemon wedges (optional)

Preparation

Combine first 10 ingredients in a large bowl; toss well. Garnish with lemon wedges, if desired.

Nutritional Information

Calories:288 (27% from fat)

Fat:8.6g (sat 2.3g,mono 4.2g,poly 1.3g)

Protein:11.2g

Carbohydrate:42.2g

Fiber:4.4g

Cholesterol:9mg

Iron:3.6mg

Sodium:334mg

Calcium:106mg

Cooking Light, JUNE 1998

 

Off

Sometimes you just need to take a break from the everyday and have a little time off. For Dan, that day was Friday. Work has been extremely stressful for him lately - which is a blessing, of course, in its own way - but still. If you have a job, it can stress you out and you need time off. And that's that.

But, I will tell you that I did not take a day off from running. Despite my weariness and really not wanting to go, I went to the indoor track. But I didn't get as far as I would normally. It was rough, and a bit discouraging. Yesterday, thanks to glorious weather granted by the Lord, Dan and I both went running. He ran to the park, while I drove the kids over, then he played at the playground with them while I ran through the park. Let me tell you something:

Outdoor running on the hills is not easy. I thought I was going to pass out a time or two, no exaggeration. I was relieved to see a police officer parked in one of the lots because I thought, "Well, if I really start to feel bad, I'm heading there for help". Not sure if it's good to have an escape route or not while running, but it made me feel better. On the way home, and for the rest of the evening, the whole right side of my chest felt tight and a bit constricted. Come to think of it, if I'm going to keep running, I ought to get myself an inhaler again. I think I gave my last one away to my younger brother when he was down back in September. Hmm. Yes, it does help to breathe properly.

You know how sometimes you just feel off? Something isn't right, though you can't put your finger on it, and it usually exerts itself throughout your whole body - spirit, mind, and physical well-being all seem to suffer. I've felt that way lately. My head has been feeling light and disconnected, sore back and neck muscles, and my mind seems unable to focus on anything at all. So if anyone talks to me, I apologize if I seem like some kind of space cadet. I'm not sure what's going on right now. (and you can probably tell it in this horrible writing. I'm barely able to bring myself to even post this, but I have to... because, well, that's the point)

But I'll tell you this, it's frustrating me to no end. For one thing, I need every mental faculty I have to keep tabs on my two rambunctious munchkins. Not to mention it makes I shudder at the thought of running or working out because of it. But the real kicker is how it is bringing down my spirit, and that is not something I take lightly.

You see, many moons ago, when I was but a wee babe in the Pleistocene Era... Ok, well, not that long ago, but long enough that I feel able to talk about it publicly in this way... I went through some very dark times. Very little mattered to me, though very few knew or could tell. And now, as an older, wiser (ha), more mature (ha again!) adult (oh gracious me, I'm an adult), I can recognize signs that I am slipping into a melancholy. Those melancholy times are scant skipping stones to the deeper depression that I know I can be dragged into with a despondent and discontent spirit. This is one reason why I take discouragement very much to heart. And then why I also take true joy and encouragement to heart as well.

Some of you may never know the true joy my heart feels when you share even a simple word with me, whether through email, phone call, facebook or in person. There are so many people who have often held me strong when I found myself floundering to remember my Creator and Sustainer - people who have taken my chin and lifted up my face to look into His. What few people know is that even if I have not talked to them in far too long, they are still in my heart and when I see them again I know that I will still feel that incredible affection I felt before. My friends are my friends for life, and more often than not, family in the truest and deepest sense of the word.

So I ask you, friends, for one thing. Pray for me. Pray that I might be relieved of this despondent spirit. Pray that am able to find comfort in the Savior. Pray that my heart and mind are protected from the darkness which seeks to draw me down and attack me when I feel physically unable to fight.

On Track

Last night I ran at The Pavilion when Dan got home from work. Something must be happening because all day I was actually looking forward to going there. Of course there are two reasons that would usually explain this, but they were pretty good yesterday. (Though I'm starting to think I may feel a top tooth pushing through on EF. This would mean he's getting teeth nearly 10 months earlier than his sister did)

Anyway, I ran more than I walked for the full mile. I think, in total, I ran about 8 laps or so, of the 11.5 (we'll just say 12) necessary for the mile. My biggest problem was that it was getting more and more crowded. The Pavilion is a pretty hopping place most of the time anyway, there are always people coming and going out of the parking lot at any rate. I think I would have done a few more laps, but I got tired of weaving in and out of the mix of people - old couples (who are just the sweetest to see), middle-aged men who are really fast, and people that can't seem to stay in their lane (drifting onto the dividing lines).

Plus, I had cooked dinner in my running clothes before I left (those Egg Rolls), and I could smell them every so often. It started to make me veer off the track as I approached the exit - knowing they were a scant 500 feet from where I was laboring away.

All that to say I think things are going well. For me. And that's one reason to be glad.

Rollin' Rollin'

My mother-in-law got me a Cooking Light subscription for Christmas. I was really excited. I like their recipes a ton, primarily because I find them delicious. The first time I had even looked through some was at my sister-in-law's last Christmas. Since then, I've been hooked. They are just plain yummy and I'd recommend them to you all.

*note: I am not paid by Cooking Light. They don't even know I exist beyond the fact that now they mail me a magazine. But I'll still push 'em on ya. I'm good for free advertising like that.

So this is one of the new favorites in our house. I had it saved in my electronic recipe box for a while, but never got the chance to try it. I LOVE Chinese food. It's probably the second most missed food on my "Foods I Miss From NJ" (right after gyros, or just about anything from a diner). I have often eaten  leftover egg rolls for breakfast; they are more tasty that way, I promise.

So anyway, I found this recipe and thought I had to give it a try - a baked alternative to the grease laden fried version. I was skeptical, but I had to know, would it be good? Well, I assure you, friend, yes! Yes they are good.

Dan even went so far as to say that he likes them even better than the real thing. WHAT!? I told him to close that lying mouth, and to stop speaking falsehood. But there's a testimonial for you.

Oh, I should probably mention that I find it hard to ever follow a recipe exactly, so I'll put some notes in italics along the way...

BAKED EGG ROLLS

Egg rolls:
2/3 cup coarsely chopped celery   - I omit the celery
2/3 cup coarsely chopped carrot  - and just shred up a bunch of carrots. Like 1 1/2 cups.
2 cups shredded cabbage  - and increase this too. In fact, I've read notes that some use cole slaw mix
1/2 teaspoon vegetable oil
2/3 cup chopped onion
1/2 teaspoon minced peeled fresh ginger  - I use ground because it's what I have
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 pound ground turkey breast
1 1/2 tablespoons low-sodium soy sauce
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
14 egg roll wrappers
1 large egg white
Cooking spray

Sauce:    We don't even use the sauce, so I can't attest to its tastiness
3/4 cup low-sodium soy sauce
6 tablespoons rice vinegar
2 tablespoons dark sesame oil
1 tablespoon minced peeled fresh ginger
1/3 cup thinly sliced green onions (optional)

Preheat oven to 425°.

Combine celery and carrot in food processor, and pulse 10 times or until finely chopped.
Since I use shredded carrot, I skip that step up there

Combine celery mixture and cabbage in a medium bowl. Cover with plastic wrap; vent. Microwave at high 5 minutes; drain.

Heat vegetable oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion, 1/2 teaspoon ginger, and garlic; sauté 2 minutes. Add turkey; cook 5 minutes. Remove from heat; stir in cabbage mixture, 1 1/2 tablespoons soy sauce, and pepper. Cover and chill 15 minutes.

Place 1 egg roll wrapper at a time onto work surface with 1 corner pointing toward you (wrapper should look like a diamond). Trim 1 inch off right and left corners of wrapper. I don't trim. It seems totally unnecessary to me

Spoon 3 tablespoons turkey filling into center of wrapper. Fold lower corner of egg roll wrapper over filling.

Fold in trimmed corners. Moisten top corner of wrapper with egg white I use water here instead; roll up jelly-roll fashion. Repeat procedure with remaining wrappers, turkey filling, and egg white.

Lightly coat egg rolls with cooking spray, and place, seam side down, on a baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Bake at 425° for 18 minutes or until golden brown.

To prepare sauce, combine 3/4 cup soy sauce, vinegar, sesame oil, and 1 tablespoon ginger; serve with egg rolls. Garnish with green onions, if desired.


Yield:  14 servings (serving size: 1 roll and about 1 tablespoon sauce)

CALORIES 79 (29% from fat); FAT 2.5g (sat 0.4g,mono 0.9g,poly 1.1g); IRON 0.9mg; CHOLESTEROL 11mg; CALCIUM 18mg; CARBOHYDRATE 8g; SODIUM 532mg; PROTEIN 5.7g; FIBER 0.7g

Cooking Light, MARCH 2001

Whole & Well

This entry has been writing and rewriting itself for some time. The biggest obstacle I've been facing in getting it to settle down into submission is that it's composed of thoughts I've been thinking through, and growing with, for quite some time. One of the problems I find when writing is that there are so many things I want to say, to explain, that I find myself backtracking and wandering about as if in a glade. It's an open space, surrounded by woodland - each trail circles back into the glade, but not before I chase the thought through trees, over streams, and around some big rocks. It's hard enough for me to get them in order within my own head, but to try and convey that to others - ah the mysteries of intelligent and excellent writing. I have some friends who are very, very talented writers; I envy them often.

Here's the basic idea I've got going: life is not simple, nor is creation simple, yet people are constantly trying to make everything simple. The main problem is that our usual practice is to break things down again and again until we assume that because we have all the pieces (or so we think), we now have the answer. One very important idea gets pushed to the wayside - there is much more to, well, everything quite frankly, than the pieces that make it up.

Before I was an Anthropology major, I had entered college a dedicated Biology major, on the fast track even. I skipped over intro classes thanks to my high AP test scores in the subject, and jumped right into sophomore level classes. Until I hit Chemistry. This will forever be my downfall. Subjects which require logic, equations and numbers in general are not within my realm of comprehension. I will gladly boast that I have not taken one math course since junior year of high school (Pre-Calc), and I'm still a contributing member of society. So there Middle School Math Teacher! Ahem.

It was the same semester I realized Chemistry was my nemesis that I was also taking an elective course - Anth101, introduction to cultural anthropology. This, my friends, is what I like to call The Great Awakening. (Forget those 18th Century Protestants, they didn't know what they were talking about) Here was a subject that ignited passion in my heart and also made a tremendous amount of sense in my pea brain. It took some time before I made the big connection - the reason I love(d) studying Anthropology was that it was so incredibly holistic. 

When I announced my grand plan to switch majors, and ever after, people often gave me a quizzical look, followed by the dreaded question: "What can you do with that?" I can proudly declare, "Anything I want!" You see, Anthropology covers the realms of every other science and humanity and art and whatever else you can think of that might be included within the human experience.

God did not create the earth in such a way that each element, plant, animal or mineral works on its own without interaction from any other living, or non-living, entity. In fact, it seems very clear to me, not only from my senses, but also from reading The Word, that He has made everything to work and live in relationship to the rest of creation. And I'm not talking some hippy-dippy, pantheistic nature worship here, just to be clear.

With the Fall, it was not just Man that has had to pay the consequences. Indeed, the whole earth groans with the tragedy of being no longer in right relationship with God and itself. Man has turned against man, man against nature, nature against itself; and always we are searching for ways to make it right. To somehow piece back together what was broken. Which, of course, is impossible without the intervention of God.

So what does this have to do with anything I've written about previously? I warned you, didn't I? I'm a trail follower. It's probably why I do such much better at talking than writing.

Humanity has gotten severely out of touch with food, particularly in The West. Our pride has deluded us into thinking we can understand the way everything works, and can then break it down, figuring out exactly what nutrients are best and what "bad" foods we ought to avoid. How can we even begin to rely on science to deliver us from problems that scientists don't understand? It should be glaringly obvious to us all that every attempt humans make at putting things aright often end in bigger disaster than the problem we started out with in the first place. 

Now, I assure you that I'm not some kind of crunchy, tree-hugging, organic, locally-grown fanatic here to shove some dogma down your throat with that $20 granola. BUT as I began to think about the food I place in my mouth, it began to occur to me that most of it was pretty much garbage. Processed junk food. And I'm not talking about potato chips here. I mean nearly all of it. Obesity, diabetes, heart disease, etc (the "Western Diseases", known as such because they usually follow the introduction of the "Western Diet") - all of it has risen over the very time that many of our foods are claiming to make us more nutritious. But how can human created foods really be more nutritious than the ones God has given to us? Humans tinker about as if we know everything about everything, and we trust scientists to declare what foods we ought to be eating.

God has created a wonderful and complex human being in each of us. And I find that one of the reasons I have so failed previously is because even if I eat what some box tells me is "nutritious," well, I'm still eating the same stuff that is in every other box on the shelf. Too much of all the processed foods and not enough of the whole foods that are available out there. God knew what he was doing when he created broccoli, carrots, eggs, apples, cows, chickens and the rest of it. Why should I take what a human has created in substitution for what He offers me?

I know this may sound like crazy ranting and raving of a liberal crunch, but I assure you, it's not some new fangled idea I've picked up recently. Nor is it my own unique idea. In fact, look back throughout human history. We may not have many of the communicable diseases we once did, but we have an inordinate problem with dietary related diseases. The one I suffer from happens to be weight related. And do you know how many of those dietary related diseases can be reversed in a person simply by changing diet? It's incredible!

So, as I go on this journey of running and exercising, I'm also watching what I put in my mouth. It's always brought me joy to cook, and so as I strive to make better decisions, I will start making more things from scratch (if I find something good, I'll be sure to share it here). Most everything tastes better that way in any case (with the exception of Mac & Cheese. Oh how I love store brand, bright orange mac & cheese). And hopefully, I pray earnestly, that this will be the year I finally have a garden (it has been in my heart and on the back burner for far, far too long). My Burpee catalog came the other day and I nearly squealed with delight. And the sites I look to for other plant/gardening related stuff are really starting to advertise in earnest. Ohhh I'm excited for sowing and harvesting!

I realize this post may seem a bit out there, and very much discombobulated, but I did the best I could without actually writing a book on my thoughts. Anyone ever watch Alton Brown? You know that lady he has on sometimes - the Nutritional Anthropologist? That's my new dream job. I would love to study the relationship humans and their food have shared throughout history. But working with food for a living might not be a good idea, eh? ;)

 

 

 

 

 

There is a whole host of information out there about what you should or should not be eating, and it seems to change every time you turn around. There have been a few books I love to read that touch on these subjects, including Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, and several books by Michael Pollan. Just in case you're interested

Birds

If there is one thing I can say about my daughter, two-year old A.M., it's that she has an incredible amount of passion. Some may deem it the obsessions of a two year old mind, and they'd be right, but it seems to work itself out in every facet of her life. There is little that she does not approach with gusto and nearly complete abandon; and once she gets an idea in her head, it's there for the long haul. I assure you that this is a blessing and a curse for me, her mother.

We made a conscious choice not to push Santa in this house. He isn't banned outright, but the kids don't receive presents from him, and we don't bring him up. But there are many influences on a small child, including church, TV and stores. Even walks around the neighborhood. So these past few weeks have been full of "Santa!" and eventually, "Santa gone. Oh no. Santa...?" as neighbors slowly remove their decorations from the front doors and walks of their homes. I remind her that he lives far away and can only visit people once a year. This has seemed to suffice.

There are other obsession, however, that I am more glad to feed. Like birds. A.M. is fascinated by and delighted with birds in all shapes and sizes. Birds fly, birds hop, birds tweet (though not on Twitter, as far as I know) and, perhaps most importantly, birds EAT. A few weeks ago, prompted by a visit to a friend's home where she helped refill the feeders and by the disappearing "berries" (really bradford pears) on our trees, A.M. and I took a trip to Lowes and picked up some bird feeders for our home. The excursion alone was filled with more than enough excitement as she was overcome by dozens of styles of bird feeders, and the accompanying seeds. I'm sure more than a few customers could hear the squealed delights of "BIRDS! BIRD FEEDERS! BIRDS EAT!" echoing through the high ceilings of the warehouse. You can bet those feeders went up the minute we got home.

Despite a slow start, I can assure you those feeders have been visited by a great many birds, and each visit has been reported by our budding ornithologist. A.M. is barely awake before she speeds over to her window, which has a prime view of the feeders (naturally), and declares that there are in fact breakfasters enjoying suet & seeds, or thistles. Earlier this week there were at least a half dozen small finches munching away on the thistle seeds, making the feeder seem more like a springtime beehive than a winter eatery. That was a great day.

Those $15 (or whatever small amount) we spent on the supplies has brought unending joy to not only A.M., but our whole family. There is much delight in a parent's heart when your child discovers new and wonderful things in creation, and I can assure you that E.F., our 6 month old, is delighted in his big sister's ecstasy as well. (Well, if his constant smiling and reaching for her are any indication, maybe you just need to trust me on this one)

And there are many more things that bring her glee in this world - snow, for one (makes her northern born parents proud!), and eating fruits of all kinds, trees, running, walking (though not as much as running), riding in the car, friends and Mamaws and Papas. Of course those passions do turn into bad habits as well - the realization that a mobile little brother means perhaps more sharing is in her future. A.M. is not always a willing participant in this sharing thing, and her passion to be master of all exhibits itself in some ugly encounters that often end in tears and time outs.

So why do I share these seemingly mundane stories? Well, because we all have passion, and yet these can turn against us in the worst way. One of my passions in life is food. I adore food - buying it, preparing it, eating it, sharing it with others. One of my other passions is to be lazy at a great many things. Oh, don't get me wrong, I can busy myself right up into a first class whirlwind, but I can find myself complacent and languid just as easily. And so here is my problem: The two passions I find myself drawn to are not conducive to a life of wholeness.

I have a great confession I need to make: I lack all self-control when it comes to food. I will, and have, eat myself into a state of over-stuffed, bloated and nearly sickening proportions in a quest to just have another taste. Ask my mother what happens each time she cooks a pot of mashed potatoes. The poor woman should have invested in pad-locked cookery for such occasions. Or, even more, ask my husband how I respond to an unending supply of french fries (such as the constant refill you can get at places like Red Robin, one of my favorite restaurants). I would rather feel sick than not eat a few more fries. There is something severely wrong with that. It doesn't extend to all foods, but I find myself acting this way with most meals. I have often joked with my husband that I lack the chemical switch in my brain that functions as the "You're Full. Stop Eating" alarm. There is, of course, such a disorder, I saw it on Discovery or something like that, but I doubt I've really got the disease. It seems to me it comes down to simple lack of will to what is best and right - selfishness in hyperbolic mode; selfishness which brings me no gain, but really my own destruction. And ultimately, isn't that what all selfishness does?

The Bible has a great many things to say against gluttony, selfishness and laziness - all factors in my struggle to become healthy. And I know that any attempt I make in which I say, "I can do this! I can beat this stuff," will undoubtedly end in failure. Because I can not do this. I can not beat it on my own. If 27 years of living has not already taught me that, then The Word certainly does. I know people so readily claim verses such as Philippians 4:13, 2 Corinthians 12:9 and Ephesians 3:16 (to name a very few), as great beacons of hope in times of trial and tribulation. And for good reason. There is no doubt that the Lord is faithful and it is only in the gift of his Spirit and strength we are able to do any thing whatsoever. Drawing a breath is impossible were it not for the mercy of the Lord to grant that breath to the recipient.

And yet. And yet.

I find it hard to just snatch verses from the Bible as if they are some kind of lucky rabbit's foot for my gain. Perhaps it the old adage beaten into me since Teen Doctrine in 8th grade with Pastor Howard - "Context is King." It seems strange to me to just grab a snippet and say, "Ah-ha! Here, here at last, the answer I have long sought for!" I know, I know, it's my contrary nature, too. I don't want things to be easy. But as I look at His Word as a whole, I know and I see and I taste that it is good, and that it does in fact reveal to me that there is no way to be redeemed but by his precious mercy and grace. Through grace alone have I been saved, not of myself, so that I may not boast; and it is no longer I that live, but Christ that lives in me.

So I have decided that running is not merely a physical battle of wills - me versus my own body's weaknesses. Nor is it a purely mental battle - me versus the inner voices of nightmares working against me. But it is also a spiritual battle in which I have to give over the selfishness, laziness and passions which are of the flesh. It is, in fact, all three of these things working in concert.

I'm what you might call a "whole-ist." I see things as vast webs of interconnectedness that can't be extracted or untangled by simply pulling one. But that's all for another post. Perhaps later today, or tomorrow. Trust me, it's a whole entry unto itself (One that has been writing itself in my head for a few days now). Instead, I leave you with this, if it doesn't declare the sovereignty of God, well... (Fun Fact: This is the Psalm I had been mediating on the morning of the day Dan proposed to me)

Psalm 104 (NASB)

    ¹Bless the LORD, O my soul!
         O LORD my God, You are very great;
         You are clothed with splendor and majesty,
    ²Covering Yourself with light as with a cloak,
         Stretching out heaven like a tent curtain.
    ³He lays the beams of His upper chambers in the waters;
         He makes the clouds His chariot;
         He walks upon the wings of the wind;
    ⁴He makes the winds His messengers,
         Flaming fire His ministers.
    ⁵He established the earth upon its foundations,
         So that it will not totter forever and ever.
    ⁶You covered it with the deep as with a garment;
         The waters were standing above the mountains.
    ⁷At Your rebuke they fled,
         At the sound of Your thunder they hurried away.
    ⁸The mountains rose; the valleys sank down
         To the place which You established for them.
    ⁹You set a boundary that they may not pass over,
         So that they will not return to cover the earth.
    ¹⁰He sends forth springs in the valleys;
         They flow between the mountains;
    ¹¹They give drink to every beast of the field;
         The wild donkeys quench their thirst.
    ¹²Beside them the birds of the heavens dwell;
         They lift up their voices among the branches.
    ¹³He waters the mountains from His upper chambers;
         The earth is satisfied with the fruit of His works.
    ¹⁴He causes the grass to grow for the cattle,
         And vegetation for the labor of man,
         So that he may bring forth food from the earth,
    ¹⁵And wine which makes man's heart glad,
         So that he may make his face glisten with oil,
         And food which sustains man's heart.
    ¹⁶The trees of the LORD drink their fill,
         The cedars of Lebanon which He planted,
    ¹⁷Where the birds build their nests,
         And the stork, whose home is the fir trees.
    ¹⁸The high mountains are for the wild goats;
         The cliffs are a refuge for the shephanim.
    ¹⁹He made the moon for the seasons;
         The sun knows the place of its setting.
    ²⁰You appoint darkness and it becomes night,
         In which all the beasts of the forest prowl about.
    ²¹The young lions roar after their prey
         And seek their food from God.
    ²²When the sun rises they withdraw
         And lie down in their dens.
    ²³Man goes forth to his work
         And to his labor until evening.
    ²⁴O LORD, how many are Your works!
         In wisdom You have made them all;
         The earth is full of Your possessions.
    ²⁵There is the sea, great and broad,
         In which are swarms without number,
         Animals both small and great.
    ²⁶There the ships move along,
         And Leviathan, which You have formed to sport in it.
    ²⁷They all wait for You
         To give them their food in due season.
    ²⁸You give to them, they gather it up;
         You open Your hand, they are satisfied with good.
    ²⁹You hide Your face, they are dismayed;
         You take away their spirit, they expire
         And return to their dust.
    ³⁰You send forth Your Spirit, they are created;
         And You renew the face of the ground.
    ³¹Let the glory of the LORD endure forever;
         Let the LORD be glad in His works;
    ³²He looks at the earth, and it trembles;
         He touches the mountains, and they smoke.
    ³³I will sing to the LORD as long as I live;
         I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
    ³⁴Let my meditation be pleasing to Him;
         As for me, I shall be glad in the LORD.
    ³⁵Let sinners be consumed from the earth
         And let the wicked be no more
         Bless the LORD, O my soul
         Praise the LORD!