Who am I?

School is back in session here in Florida.  (Sigh.)  I love my job, I really do.  I just wasn't ready for summer to end.  In many parts of the country, families are still lounging poolside or at the very least, slurping on melting popsicles after a day of summer fun and frivolity.  But not me - nope, I am already standing in the doorway of my intensive reading classroom, greeting 68 high school faces in the August heat.  It's hard to believe that just a couple of weeks ago, I was frolicking in the ocean waves and wandering around Sea World with my husband.

One of the first things I ask my students is, "Do you consider yourself to be a good reader?  Tell me why or why not."  They respond on index cards which I then take home and read when I'm alone and can have a good cry.  Every year the answers seem to be the same; three-quarters of my students think that they are failures at reading because either they "can't" understand what they read, they can't pass the state test, or just because they are sitting in my class.  They are very aware of their perceived shortcomings, and it's heartbreaking.  So the very next day, I give them a reading assignment and ask them to tell me what they got out of it.  I make them show me in the text where they found or formed their response.  Then, I put on my most stern teacher face and admonish them for lying to me.  (You should see the looks on their faces.  Priceless.)  I proceed to tell them that, in doing that assignment, they demonstrated to me three things: 1)they can read; 2)they can understand what they read; 3)they can form a cohesive answer and cite evidence for it.  These are all things that good readers do!  The room falls silent as the shock wave of understanding ripples through the group.  I know that perhaps for the first time, my students have heard that they are good readers - or did something well at all.  And I will spend the next 180 days building on this moment.

I do this every year. This time, it brought me back to something I saw at Sea World earlier in the month.  Glenn and I visited the newly opened penguin exhibit, Antarctica, which not only looks like the tundra but feels like it too.  (They should issue parkas at the door!)  Of course, neither of us had ever seen a real penguin that close before, so it was very exciting.  We read every sign and asked lots of questions to the animal care specialists stationed inside.  Bringing the penguin experience to life was a very carefully done task, as we learned, so that the health and natural tendencies of the penguins would not be compromised.  Anyway, using the signs we were able to identify all four types of penguins (bet you didn't know there were more than one kind) and some of their behaviors.  My favorite was the king penguin:

Photo credit: me!

When I saw him (I'm assuming it's a "him"), I was captivated by the way he stood.  And in that moment, I heard these words, "He knows who he is."

The weight of those words took my breath away.

You see, the king penguin walks around with his head held high all the time, carrying himself confidently.  I watched as he walked - well, waddled - around with authority and purpose.  He knows no other way of positioning himself.  My students, on the other hand, drag themselves into my class as failures.  This is what they have learned from years of struggling to be "good enough" as readers.  So what about us?  I knew when the Lord spoke those words to me, He was speaking to me about me and maybe about you.  Do we carry ourselves confidently, as if we really know who we are - or better yet, Whose we are?  Do we walk in the authority we have in Him?  

Photo credit: me!

We are the daughters and sons of the Most High God.  We are His beloved children, whom He created for a purpose and for such a time as this!  1 Peter 2:8-10 (New International Version) tells us: "But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light."

"God's special possession."  I love that.  There is no shortage of Scripture that tells us who we are to God - even if we are not walking with Him, we are still His creation and He longs for relationship with us.  Get in your Bible and dig them out.  Speak them out loud.  Write them on your bathroom mirror.  Check out the list that Joyce Meyer Ministries has compiled to get you started; you can find it here.  Remind yourself who you are.  And just like that king penguin, you will step into your days with confidence, authority and purpose.  It may not change your life's circumstance, but it will change you.

Piling it on

Earlier this week, I ate lunch at the acclaimed Lady & Sons restaurant in Savannah, Georgia, owned by Paula Deen and her sons. This was such a treat for me; I've long been a fan of the Deens from their cooking shows.  Everything was first class - we were greeted by a smiling hostess who called our names with a delightful Southern drawl and our server radiated warmth and clearly enjoyed his job.  We formed an instant bond with him! :-)  And the food...oh, the food!  We chose the lunch buffet which allowed us to sample a variety of Southern goodies: fried chicken, baked chicken, pillowy clouds of mashed potatoes with a river of butter flowing through them, greens, creamed corn, blackeyed peas, green beans that I know were cooked for hours with a ham hock, sweet potatoes, hoecakes, biscuits...you get the idea.  Then, dessert.  Dessert was complimentary with the buffet, so of course we couldn't say no!

I ate that day like I haven't eaten in a while.  I mean, you just have to try a bit of everything, and after a few rounds of doing so, I realized I was full.  Very full.  When I tell you that I ate until it hurt, I am NOT exaggerating.  I am a bit ashamed to admit it, but I ate until my stomach hurt.

While lunch was a pleasurable experience, what followed was not.  It hurt to move and breathing was uncomfortable.  I could not enjoy the sights and sounds on our subsequent wanderings in the downtown area because my insides were so angry.  In fact, what would usually be a delight to me - visiting a confectionery - was completely unappetizing and I had to leave the store because I couldn't bear to look at food anymore.

Me, not being able to look at food anymore? I know.  It's unimaginable.  But it brought to mind a spiritual truth.

Sin is much like my behavior at the restaurant.  We enjoy the experience; we dabble in a bit of this, sample a bit of that.  We pile our plates full of what the world has to offer, in small bites at a time, then finally sit back and realize that we hurt. 

If I consistently eat the way I ate at Lady & Sons, my body will probably adapt but I will surely develop a disease (such as diabetes or clogged arteries) that can lead to death.  In the same way, continuing to choose sinful items off the menu of life will certainly bring death. 

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life through Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23, NLT)

So, the next day I got up and got back to a less extravagant way of eating.  Wise choices: yogurt, berries, and chicken (not fried!) were on my menu.  I encourage you to think about your temple - what are you feeding it - spiritual food or worldly junk?  Choose wisely.

Today I have given you the choice between life and death, between blessings and curses...Oh, that you would choose life, so that you and your descendants might live!  You can make this choice by loving the Lord your God, obeying Him, and committing yourself firmly to Him.  This is the key to your life...
(Deuteronomy 30:19-20) 

Let freedom ring!

Happy Independence Weekend!  You knew it was a weekend and not just a day, right?  When a holiday falls so close to the weekend, we just take the extra few days and celebrate.  In fact, in my neighborhood, some people have been proclaiming their independence since Monday.  Every night.  Loudly.

How I celebrated my independence!

For most holidays, I tend to plan special meals but this year I just planned a special dessert inspired by the berry tarts featured in this month's Food Network Magazine.  I changed things up a little to make them gluten-free, so rather than a tart (think puff pastry), they came out more like shortbreads which is fine with me.  I topped them with fresh vanilla cream and fresh berries.  (Find the original recipe here.)  Have you tasted the berries this year?  Raspberries and blueberries are a staple in my fridge during the summers...I'm hopelessly addicted, I admit it.  So as I indulge, I remember that  berries are 85% water and antioxidant-rich, helping the body fight off inflammation, arthritis, memory and eye-related issues.

We watched fireworks at our local outdoor mall this year; they shoot them off the parking garage as a culmination to an afternoon of events such as a decorated kids' bike parade and watermelon eating contest.  The rain moved through just in time for families to gather in the viewing area to enjoy the scene.  (Let me pause here and say that I love fireworks.  Not enough to set them off myself - sparklers are my thing - I just watch them.  My boys, on the other hand....well, that's a story for another day.)  At some point during the display, I looked around and noticed the sheer joy and wonder on the faces in the crowd.  It seems that fireworks on the 4th of July does something for us - it brings us together.  We listen to patriotic music, we spend time with family and friends, we honor those who fought (and still fight) for our independence, and we blow things up, all in the name of our great country.  For one day, we are unified in purpose - to celebrate our freedom.  Somehow we forget that the other 364 days of the year, we merely tolerate one another in the spirit of political correctness.  But what if we lived everyday as we live on July 4th- in harmony with one another and reveling in the liberty of our citizenship in the United States?

It got me to thinking.  A similar "independence day" happened thousands of years ago on a hillside cross.  The sky was dark, yet there were no fireworks to light it up.  A crowd stood around and watched, united for one reason-to put to death a man whose actions they could not tolerate.  Our freedom from sin, guilt, shame, death, and hell was purchased on that day.  What if we lived every day walking in an awareness of that freedom?  Just as we often take our Constitutional rights and liberties for granted, sometimes we fail to fully appreciate the freedoms we have if we know Christ.  We walk bound up in chains of old habits and thought patterns that we can be free from if we only release them to Him and refuse to pick them up again.  All we have to do is ask.

"In my distress I prayed to the Lord, and the Lord answered me and set me free." (Psalms 118:5)

In Christ, every day can be Independence Day.

Shut yo' mouth!

Unless you've been completely unplugged from all sources of media this week, you've no doubt heard all of the fluff surrounding Paula Deen.  It seems she made some comments a few years back (okay, like 10 or 15 years ago) that were racially offensive, and those statements have come back to haunt her in a big way.  Personally, I don't think Ms. Deen's statements warrant her termination from Food Network and from Smithfield.  I agree they were racist and inappropriate.  But do the decisionmaking execs  really think that none of their other celebrity hosts/spokespeople have ever made inappropriate comments?  (Have they ever watched "Dinner Impossible" with Robert Irvine?????)  She owned up to her mistake and issued a timely apology.  I have to respect her for that.

So there are several ways I could go with this.  From my perspective, this is a lesson in the power of the tongue.  How are the words we say perceived by others?  How do our words impact the hearts of those around us?

My husband and I had an argument today.  We don't argue often, but when we do, I am not nice.  I usually have to repent for something (or several things) I said, usually in anger.  Of course, I am working on this, but today I failed miserably, and so I had to apologize.  I know all of the applicable Bible verses about my speech, you know, "Life and death are in the power of the tongue" and all that - there are just days that I'm not good at living them out.  I'm sure you have days like that too, with your kids or with a co-worker, or with the server at your favorite restaurant who didn't get your order right.

Speaking of food, I don't have to tell you the power of salt when it's used in the kitchen.  It brings out the natural flavors of foods, and someone once said it makes food "acceptable."  Whether you're the one doing the cooking or doing the tasting, you always know when salt is missing.  It's no different with our words.  When something in our conversation with others is missing, chances are we need to add salt to make it "acceptable."

"Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one." (Colossians 4:6, NKJV)

Now let's read it in The Message version:
"Be gracious in your speech. The goal is to bring out the best in others in a conversation, not put them down, not cut them out."

The only difference between Paula Deen and me is that I do not (presently) have a national platform, nor do I have a television/radio contract or corporate sponsorship.  The whole world knows that Ms. Deen spoke irreverently of another race; no one would ever know how I spoke to my husband today (had I not admitted it here).  Being the everyday citizen that I am does not pardon me - or you - from spewing words that do anything other than build up and encourage another person in our sphere of influence.  The attention on Ms. Deen in the last few days has made me examine myself and how I speak to (and about!) others.  Perhaps her example - and mine - can do the same for you.

Ears to hear

Is it possible that it's been so long since my last post?  I could give you all the reasons why I haven't posted - but you're not really interested in excuses.  You're looking for truth.  Authenticity. So here you go.

My greatest fear in starting this blog was that I would run out of things to write about.  And in these weeks since my previous post, I felt like I had nothing to say.  Or maybe it was that I had no time to write, you know, May is a busy month for schoolteachers in Florida.

Upon reflection, it turns out that writing wasn't my problem - listening was.  It wasn't that I had no time to write - I did not make time to listen.  

Ouch.

The kitchen is a great place to have conversation. A few years ago, I was cooking every Sunday for our young adults' ministry, and every week some of the young adults would join me in the kitchen to prepare.  Many times our prep work included deep life talks - you know, the kinds of things you feel safe talking about while you're chopping peppers because you don't actually have to make eye contact with the person to whom you're making yourself vulnerable.  It was a non-threatening environment.

But when I'm in the kitchen by myself, often I get into my "cooking zone" where I'm so focused on what I'm doing that anything else is a distraction.  My husband or son will come in and start talking to me, and before I know it they're gone and I'm wondering what we just discussed (or what I just agreed to!).  Or I'll put Joyce Meyer's broadcast on the computer so I can listen while I cook.  More times than I can count, I've had to rewind the video because I missed so much of what she said.

Do you behave the same way when it comes to listening for the voice of God?  I do!  Do you consider His whispers a distraction?  I'm afraid I have - unwittingly, but I have.  Are you so busy multitasking that you don't stop to listen? Guilty.

I'm working on it.

Enjoy the cooking process!

Prepare yourselves, folks, today's post is a long one.

It's been nearly a year since Glenn and I started really working to change how we eat.  Both of us have developed sensitivities to certain foods, so we're trying some alternatives and this has challenged me,  especially in my baking.  On the cooking side of things, a new find for me was quinoa (pronounced "keen-wa").  You're hearing a lot about this food, aren't you?  Quinoa is a relative of green leafy vegetables; it is not a grain as most people think.   It does provide about the same kind of nutrition as brown rice, but it has more protein (and none of the arsenic that rice is rumored to have).  What's more, it is a complete protein, meaning that it has all nine essential amino acids, it's easy to digest, and is high in magnesium.  Quinoa starts out as tiny hard little balls...


...add water (and 12-15 minutes of boiling time) and voila!  You have a fluffy mound of grains just waiting for you to douse them with your creative cooking juices!

Quinoa is one of those foods that you can eat plain, but why?  Try adding sweet peppers, onion, and diced Italian turkey sausage with a bit of oil and vinegar for dinner.  Or how about pistachios, lemon zest, and shredded coconut with a little vanilla, then topped with vanilla Greek yogurt for dessert?  You are limited only by what is in your pantry.  And make it easy on yourself - buy it in bulk (it's cheaper that way), cook up a batch of quinoa on the weekend and keep it in a gallon baggie in your fridge to speed up weeknight dinner prep. 

A few nights ago, I made a delicious warm quinoa salad that I found in Clean Eating magazine - it was super easy, just a few ingredients: dried cranberries or cherries, pecans, scallions, oil, vinegar, maple syrup.  I added some diced chicken to boost the protein content.  The nice thing is that you can swap the fruit and nuts for what you like - maybe apricots and almonds instead?  Find this scrumptious salad recipe here.

I love what cooking does to simple ingredients like quinoa.  A little heat, applied using the right technique and temperature, for the right amount of time, transforms them into something tasty!  This reminds me of how God works in my life.  He allows a challenge or difficult circumstance in my life (heat) to come my way and employs His perfect techniques and timing to turn me into something more palatable than I was before.  The sad truth is that I often don't appreciate what His process does for me as much as I appreciate what the cooking process does for food.  I don't always like the heat, but I'm not getting out of the kitchen!

I want a peace beyond my understanding
I want to feel it fall like rain
In the middle of my hurting
I want to feel Your arms as they surround me
And let me know that it's okay
To be here in this place
Resting in the peace that only comes
In the waiting.
                         -Vicki Yohe, "In the Waiting"

I'm in love...with lemons

I seem to be developing a love affair with lemons.  Yep, lemons.  Growing up, the only lemon thing I liked was lemonade.  But the more I cook, the more I've learned that lemon just does something to a recipe, whether in cooking or baking.  Today I tried a new GF treat: berry oatmeal bars. The original recipe called for raspberry jam, but I had just been blessed with a jar of homemade blueberry jam and I thought it would be perfect sandwiched between layers of oats and butter.  (Note I said it was GF-gluten free - not fat free!)  When I checked my pantry I remembered that I was out of vanilla and just haven't made it to my favorite herb/spice store to replenish.  What to do, what to do?  So I tried pure lemon extract because I know blueberries and lemon are a good combination - the lemon brings out the sweetness of those blueberries - and the recipe already called for lemon zest.

I cannot even describe the aroma filling my home right now.

Side note here:  Two things on which you should never compromise in cooking: extracts and zest.  Always buy pure extract; yes, you'll pay a bit more but you'll use a little less and the flavor is worth it.  And if a recipe calls for lemon/lime/orange zest, don't skip that step!  (You can grate your citrus zest and freeze it in 1-tsp batches or in an ice cube tray; you don't even have to defrost it before you toss it in a recipe!)


On its own, lemon isn't really a star.  It is, well, let's be honest: it is a sour, acidic fruit.  Yet when you combine a lemon with other ingredients, something changes.   When mixed with oil and herbs, it becomes a dressing or marinade.  A squirt of lemon keeps apples, avocados and bananas from turning brown, and a slice adds brightness to an ordinary glass of water.  In the hands of a cook, a lemon becomes a catalyst for change to the flavors of a dish.

I don't know about you, but there are some "sour" things about me.  My attitude can be sour.  My mood can be sour.  My thoughts can be sour.  But if I allow it, these "sour" things can become a stimulus  for change.  In God's hands, my sour attitude becomes sweet as He teaches me to display the fruits of the Spirit in my life rather than the fruit of my flesh.  He gently points out my acidic tone with others; those times when my words cause the hearer to pucker from the taste - then skillfully combines that with His Word to render a conversation that brings healing and encouragement.

The next time you slice a lemon for your tea or to squeeze over a piece of fish, take a moment and ask God to take what is "sour" in your life and use it to change the flavor of your future.

The day after

I feel compelled to address the tragic events that we witnessed yesterday in Boston.  For many of us, it brought back memories of 9/11 or Oklahoma City.  Sadly, the words "Boston Marathon Bombing" will soon become as commonplace in meaning.

The aftermath of tragedy brings both unimaginable sorrow and beauty.  "Beauty?" you say.  Yes - for it is in these most difficult times that we find a sort of unspoken understanding in our communities and as a nation.  As you left your house this morning, you probably waved at your neighbor, took the time to actually look into the barista's eyes as she handed you your morning coffee or let someone merge in front of you in traffic.  Days such as these find us living our lives a bit more kindly - and that is a thing of beauty.

Crisis drives me to cook.  When calamity strikes someone I know, my first question is usually, "Can I bring you some dinner?"  In stressful situations, cooking a meal is the last thing on someone's mind; and while I can't solve his or her problem, I can do something, the one thing that I know will mean one less thing to worry about.  Everyone needs to eat.  For me, food equals comfort.  It is the thing to which I run in times of stress, sadness, celebration.  I realize that can be problematic (yes, a story for another day), but it's how I've lived my life.  Preparing and sharing food means that I am sharing part of myself.  I guess you could say that it is one way that I show love.

You may not love to cook like I do.  But what is it that you like to do, that you could share with others?

"Small things done with great love will change the world."

-Mother Theresa

Sweet potatoes and books

My husband and I have recently made a habit of visiting farmers markets on the weekends.  Since we became "school year empty nesters" (our youngest son left for college last fall), Glenn and I have had a lot more time to spend together.  A lot.  It's been quite a journey for us so far, trying to figure out who we are as a couple and what we like to do.  I was already a parent when we got married (a story for another day) so having this kind of unlimited couple time is new for us and one of our adventures has been finding these markets in our area.

Every Saturday or two - and the occasional Sunday - we head to a market or at least a sizeable produce stand to load up for the week, usually looking for something new to try or try again.  I will admit when we started going, I didn't even know there were so many different kinds of eggplant.  And I'm Italian!  A few weeks back we were eyeing some beets.  I don't like beets and neither does Glenn, but they looked so fresh and springy!  When the produce guy came over with some advice on how to choose and cook them, his offer to enjoy a bunch for free convinced us to take those ruby beauties home and roast them to perfection.

We still hate beets.

Lately I've discovered just how much I love sweet potatoes - not the ones covered in marshmallows - just baked sweet potatoes in their skins with a little butter and cinnamon inside or stuffed with black beans and garlic.  (Unless I'm at Buddy Freddy's, in which case I eat them mashed with brown sugar and pecans.  But I digress.)  As a child, I didn't like sweet potatoes, but every so often I'd take a little taste just to see...and today I am indeed a fan of those beta-carotene-packed hunks of goodness.

Which brings me to my students.  I teach teenagers who, for a variety of reasons, are at risk academically and some, physically.  They are unwillingly placed into my Intensive Reading class because they have not shown themselves to be proficient readers on our state test.  Whatever.  The fact is, they hate to read, they hate books and most of them daily remind me of this.  But I keep making them do it, working to find that "just right" book that will grab their attention, exposing them to a new book I've found or an author I think they'll like.  Before a new book goes into my classroom library, I usually give a little talk on it, pass it around, and try to build some interest in it.  Today, as I was offering up some fresh titles complete with a brief explanation of the plots, my students scrambled to grab the books before anyone else could - then sat and read for thirty minutes.  Not that fake-reading they usually try to get away with, but the real reading where you actually get lost in a book and when the period is over you try to convince your teacher to let you keep reading - "just to finish this page" - even though you'll be late to your next class.   Class after class, I wanted to cry.  Just like my repeated exposure to new vegetables and fruits helped me to develop a taste for them, pressing a new book into my students' hands over and over, all year long, finally paid off in tickling their reading palates - even just a little.

And we can apply this to our own lives.  What is it that you don't like doing?  What are you afraid of doing - or being?  Is there something you know you should at least try, but you haven't yet?  Start where you are.  Don't bite off more than you can chew, but take a taste of that new behavior, or attitude, or way of thinking.  Pretty soon it will be a habit in your life, just like eating your veggies.

It's only the beginning...

If you are reading this, you are part of an exciting new journey!  I've contemplated blogging for some time, but it was only this week that I decided to take the plunge.  Inspired by my friend Michele (check out her blog here) and provoked by another friend who told me, "Blog, woman, blog!" - here I am.  Thanks for joining me.

Over time, you will learn more about me, but for now let me start with this.  I love to cook.  I love to bake.  I love being in the kitchen - and it is there, in the solitude of stirring, mixing, creating, that I often learn a lesson about life.  Or relationships.  Or about myself.  Is there something in your life that brings you those moments?  Just a couple of days ago I was steaming some eggs to enjoy throughout the week.  (Yes, I said "steaming," not boiling - turns out the best way to hard cook an egg is to steam it, then plunge it into cold water.)  Pulling each one from its icy bath, I tapped, cracked, and peeled to get to the good stuff: the smooth cooked egg.  Slice it, hit it with some sea salt & cracked pepper, yum! So I was careful to remove every bit of shell in order to avoid an unwanted crunch while gently handling the egg so it wouldn't break.

That's when it hit me.  In God's hands, I'm the egg.  When I allow Him, He removes every bit of my "crunchiness" - that hard shell exterior in which I sometimes encase myself for protection.   He knows that the "good stuff" is on the inside, and He must peel away the shell to expose it.  Peeling eggs is a process that cannot be rushed, or you'll break the egg.  In the same way, God takes His sweet time with us, tenderly removing the attitudes, mindsets, and behaviors that make us brittle and resistant to His use.  This peeling process is painful; it sometimes feels like something is tearing away rather than being gently peeled.  Painful, but necessary, if you and I are going to become the women God created us to be.

So what can you expect here?  A little something to think about or to encourage you, along with some practical kitchen tips thrown in occasionally for fun.  Stop by often - and invite your friends.