Going bananas

I'm back in the kitchen.

We've been doing a lot of traveling and going on summertime adventures; as a result I haven't been cooking very often.  (Eating - yes, cooking - not so much.)  I promised my husband fresh cherry hand-pies last week and alas, I did not have enough unspoiled cherries to make him some.  So this week when I noticed the bananas starting to turn on my counter, I made a pledge to myself: banana bread.  (Check out the recipe here; I simply swap the regular flour for gluten-free to make it friendly for my man.)  Let me tell you, my house thanked me for the amazing smells wafting from my kitchen.

Very overripe bananas.
Vanilla.
Fresh blueberries.
Cinnamon.

Need I say more????

Trying to increase my rest time and lower my stress (doctor's orders) has given me an inordinate amount of time to think about my life and who I am.  And to some extent, I am not satisfied.

Sometimes I feel like the bananas I baked with today.  From the outside, they look terrible with their dark spots and shriveling skin.  And I am not happy with what I see on the outside right now.  (Why is it that I'm comparing myself to fruit lately?  See my previous post about avocados.)  But ugly, overripe bananas make the best banana bread.  If you don't believe me, try it.  They get sweeter and sweeter the longer they sit on your countertop or hang on one of those fancy banana hooks.  So as I think about how tasty those bananas are on the inside when they look so gross on the outside, I have to do the same with myself.  When I don't like what I see in all the pictures I've been taking of my adventures, I'm reminded to consider the inside of me rather than the outside.  What's happening there?   Is my heart soft and moldable like an overripe banana?  Do I have the sweetness of spirit that I should?  Am I becoming the woman I was made to be?

I don't have answers yet.  I guess today's ramblings are merely reflective.  You know, sometimes we have to give ourselves space and permission to do that - to stop, rest, and ponder.  I can hear you saying, "I don't have time for that!"  Make time.  I'm not talking about a nap (although you might need that).   Rest doesn't always mean sleep!  Rest means being still...listening...breathing.  I'm in the middle of my refresher course on what it means to be still; it seems God helps me relearn that every so often.  So if busy-ness has gotten in your way today, consider this your "permission slip" to breathe...to think...to pray...to find rest.  And as always, you are invited to comment and share.

Lessons from avocado toast

I've recently gotten hooked on avocado toast.  I know, it did not sound appetizing to me, either, until I tried it.  There are many variations (you can check out a few here), but I like the basic recipe:

• Get a piece of good bread, an avocado, sea salt, and lemon juice.  
• Toast your bread.
• Smear some avocado on it, squirt a bit of lemon juice, and sprinkle with sea salt.  
• Enjoy!

So this morning I went to make my toast and found that the avocado half I'd saved with some lemon and plastic wrap over the top had turned brown.  I must not have gotten a tight seal on it.  (For more on saving your avocados, just Google it - "tried and true" methods abound!)  At first, I was disappointed.  Then I grabbed a spoon and scraped at the discolored surface.  What did I find?  Beautiful, bright green flesh just waiting to top some toast!  Hooray!  Breakfast was saved!

You know, I think we are like this avocado in some ways. We are bumpy on the outside, we've been a little tainted by our exposure to people/places/things, we might even have a giant pit that is squeezing the softness of our insides.  On the surface, our lives may appear to be ruined, or at the very least, we are not useful to God or to anyone.  I don't know about you, but I have some places in my heart and mind that don't feel very useable!  But just as I scooped down into the avocado with hope, Jesus digs beyond the things that might cause us to cast ourselves aside because He knows there's something bright and beautiful underneath.  He does not allow us to just look at our flaws, He challenges us to go a little deeper with Him to find the hidden delicacy of who He made us to be.

When sins or poor attitudes rise to the surface, Jesus carefully and lovingly scrapes them away to reveal goodness and righteousness.

When our minds and hearts are covered with a dark layer of pain or disappointment, He scoops out the damaged fragments and allows us to be exposed to His love and comfort.

Jesus loves us too much to allow us to stay the same.  He does not give up or toss us in the trash like an old piece of fruit.  He pokes around, peeling back bumpy layers and pulling out pits and digging until He finds that lovely heart of flesh within us...the heart that He wants to mold and to be completely His.

The next time you are tempted to turn up your nose at the discolored pieces of your life, take a closer look.  You and Jesus just might need to grab a spoon.

A light in a dark place

"For You cause my lamp to be lighted and to shine; the Lord my God illumines my darkness."

(Psalms 18:28, Amplified)

I was up before anyone else this morning.  I awoke with such an urgency to grab my Bible, my journal, and my laptop...this excited me because I haven't felt that in a long while.  (Well, maybe I have and I've ignored it - that might be closer to the truth, but I digress.)  Alone, over a cup of coffee at my kitchen table, I read Psalms 18.  In this Psalm, David is recounting the way that God delivered him from the pursuit of his enemies and from the hand of Saul.  He begins the Psalm with a moment of adoration, a statement of who God is to him:

"The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer; my God, my keen and firm Strength in Whom I will trust and take refuge, my Shield and the Horn of my salvation, my High Tower."

 (v. 2, Amplified)

The next seventeen verses (through verse 20) chronicle the trouble David was in and God's mighty response to David's cries for help.  David says things like, "He drew me out..."(v. 16), "He delivered me..."(v. 17), "The Lord was my stay and my support..."(v. 18), and "He brought me forth..."(v. 19).  As the Psalm goes on, we read David's song of praise to God.  He tells the Lord in very specific terms what he is thankful for and who God has been in his life.  

"He is a shield to all those who take refuge and put their trust in Him." (v. 30)

"You have girded me with strength for the battle..." (v. 39)

"You have delivered me..." (v. 43)

"...You lift me up..." (v. 48)

I can almost picture David out in a field somewhere, eyes and hands lifted to God, pacing back and forth with excitement, shouting out these words as he considers all that God has done.  He is encouraging himself and anyone within earshot.  The entire Psalm tells the story of God's faithfulness to David in his dark time.

Are things dark in your world today? I can relate.

Let's go back to verse 28: "You cause my lamp to be lighted and to shine; the Lord my God illumines my darkness."  The Message translation puts it this way: "God, you floodlight my life."

I love that.  Something that is illuminated is bright and easy to see.  A floodlight is no small-watt bulb, it's a giant expanse of light in a broad space.  And that is what God brings to our lives - His great light.  Sometimes life feels like a battle.  We desperately want to leap from the merry-go-round of our days.  The circumstances and situations we face may have eliminated the light and concealed our hope.  We don't know which way to turn, we don't know why things are happening the way they are, but may I reassure you?  The Lord is there to enlighten us, to bring knowledge, to make things clear, to brighten the path.  We may be in darkness, but we can see and experience His light in our lives today.   

If you're feeling a little dusty or dim, ask God to shine His light on you and to flood your life with light so you can see Him.  Take a moment to look back and rehearse the good turns your journey has taken. Thank God for that.  Trust Him to correct the missteps.  And if you want, leave a couple of words in the comments section below about what God is doing in your life; I promise it will encourage your heart like it did for David in this Psalm.

Broken

My heart is broken.

Please, read on.

Well, maybe you should think twice before continuing, unless you want to end up a little bit on the wrecked side.

It started with a phone call from an acquaintance offering up a high-end crib.  No, not for me - she was asking in case one of my students had a need.  We got it over the weekend and I put the word out at school.  Sure enough, one of my girls has a baby who outgrew his donated bassinet and has been sleeping in a pack-and-play, so I arranged to bring the crib to her after school today.

I wasn't prepared for what I saw.

The surroundings change slowly in her part of town, you don't feel like you're in a difficult neighborhood until you get a good look at the houses on her street.  Actually, I'm pretty sure hers is the worst on her street.  My husband and I drove past it the first time because the house numbers weren't visible behind the overgrown tree in the yard...I mean, in the dirt.  (Just so you know, I brought him for the muscle, not because I had any preconceived ideas about where I'd be driving.)

We parked in front of the small house with a cluttered front porch and barking mutt.  Even as we turned the car off, I whispered, "No way she lives here.  No way."  A little girl played barefoot in the dirt out front and was eager to give a happy welcome to a couple of strangers.  The adult woman in the house greeted me and hollered for my student, who appeared from a dim area toward the back of the home.  My husband and I took turns carefully climbing the rotting steps onto the rotting porch, carrying the crib pieces into the front room of the house.  The little girl out front watched curiously, making conversation as only a 3- or 4-year-old can.  My husband finally scooped her up to chat and to give her a little bit of attention for a moment before carefully putting her back down to play in what I wished was a grassy lawn.

Inside, there was a couch and a TV surrounded by stuff - blankets, clothes, trash - and that was just the beginning.  As I took the last of the pieces in, I followed my student through the house to her room.  And when I say "through the house," I mean through 2 of the 3 remaining rooms in the place.  I don't even think I can call them rooms.  I passed through a kitchen area, and all I remember is the trash and dirty dishes that covered every surface, including the floor (which, by the way, is also rotting).  I went through a small space with a washer and dryer, through an open bathroom, into my student's room at the very rear of the house.  All along my path, I dodged clothes, dishes, trash, and other unidentifiable items.  Her room was about a 10x10 space with one window and just enough space for a bed, dresser, and the baby's pack-and-play.  I'm not even sure there was a closet; at that point I was trying not to look around anymore, and just think of her room as the typical teen's messy room.  We went over the directions to put the crib together; she thanked me and we hugged before my smiling husband and I walked out the front door which I realized was their only source of air conditioning.

It was 90 degrees today.

Fortunately we had pulled away before I lost it.  I know some of my students have it rough, but I did not expect such conditions.  What gets me is that in spite of it all, this 10th grade mom comes to school every day with a smile on her face, her baby in tow, and has earned As and Bs nearly all year long.  Thankfully my husband was driving because all I could do was cry, and cry, and cry some more.

I know that as you read this, you will be compelled to ask how you can help her.  There is no easy solution.  She's not the only one living like this.  And I wouldn't even know where to start, because I really don't know the root of the problem.  (My husband, on the other hand, knew right where to start - he suggested we play the lottery tonight, win big and build a house to hold all of the students who need help.)  Is it poverty?  Is it cultural?  Is it generational?  Do we even know?

Samaritan's Purse founder, Bob Pierce, once prayed, "Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God."  I can honestly say that I've never asked God for that; it's too risky.  You know, it might mean that I have to sacrifice or change my lifestyle or give up something that I find enjoyable.  Today, He broke my heart.  He allowed me a glimpse into a world that I know about but that I haven't experienced firsthand.  This afternoon, He gave me a gift - the gift of sight - seeing things as He sees them.

And now, I am broken.

If you regularly read this blog, you know that I often close with some Scripture and a challenge for you, my readers.  But, at this moment, I've got no such thing.  I have spent the rest of my afternoon going through the motions in my comfy home and asking God, "Show me what to do."  Not just for this one student, but for many.  All I can offer you today is my strong encouragement to ask God to show you what He wants you to see, and then to show you what to do about it. We are His hands and feet here; we can bring the solution to what ails the lost, the hurting, the needy.  Then, share it with us in the comments below so we can join you in prayer.

I dare you.

He chose YOU

Sometimes it's hard to believe that the Bible was not written in our current time.  The New Testament letters written by the apostles speak so clearly to our present culture; they are rich in wisdom and warnings.  As I read them, I find myself in awe of the timelessness of those spiritual truths.

The daily news and the Internet bring us every opportunity to be jaded by what's happening in our communities and in the world.  At times we may be overwhelmed by the thought of how to live in a godly way in our current times.  Tolerance is valued more than truth; relevance is esteemed over righteousness.   If we are honest, allowing ourselves to be drawn into those seemingly gray areas of life can feel easier than living uprightly.  But in his first letter, written to "God's chosen people who are living as foreigners," (1 Pet. 2:1), the apostle Peter tells us that this does not have to be so:

But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for he called you out of the darkness into his wonderful light. 

“Once you had no identity as a people; now you are God’s people.Once you received no mercy;    now you have received God’s mercy." 

                                                          (1 Peter 2:9-10, New Living Translation)

God has CHOSEN us to show forth His goodness, His love, His mercy.  We are His people. ( I especially love the part that says we are "God's very own possession.")  How can we not live a righteous, holy, and upright life?  How can we not live as light in a dark place?  There are people in your life and mine who right now are living in the first part of verse 10: "Once you had no identity as a people..."  We have been CHOSEN to show them who they can be, to extend goodness and mercy when they have not experienced those gifts in your life.

Do you believe it?  Do YOU feel chosen?  Friend, this is not like that time on the playground or gym class when we were the last ones to be picked for the kickball game - if we were picked at all.  Being chosen and being picked are not the same thing.  Vegetables are picked.  You, my beautiful friend, have been chosen.  But it's difficult to extend to someone else what we do not possess ourselves.  So let me invite you to join me and some amazing women this upcoming weekend at the "You Are Chosen" conference in New Port Richey, Florida.  Spend the day in God's presence.  Hear encouraging messages and stories from women just like you.  Celebrate the fact that YOU are chosen for just this moment in time!  Find a babysitter.  Grab a friend.  It's not to late to register and you can even come at the last minute if you have to.  I'll be looking for you!

Pancakes and the power of God

A few weeks ago I visited my brother, sister-in-law and nieces in Colorado.  The girls are 5 (almost 6) and 3, so of course I got to do fun things like play Princess Candyland, watch Frozen, have tea parties, read stories, dress Barbies....you get the idea. (Unless of course, you have boys, in which case you have no idea what I'm talking about.)

Yes, I woke up to this sight every day.

My first morning there was a Saturday and so of course, pancakes were in order.  I recruited the girls to help me and they quickly moved the nearest available chairs up to the counter.  We took turns cracking, pouring, and stirring, until at last it was time to add the special ingredient: chocolate chips.  (Their mom's idea.  Don't judge.)  Splitting the measurement in half so that each girl could have the chance to pour the goodies in,  I handed the 3-year-old her portion and told her, "Now sprinkle the chips into the batter."  Her worried little voice replied, "But I don't know how to sprinkle!"  So I stepped in close, gently placed my hands over hers and guided them to create a rainshower of chocolate chips around the bowl. Then big sister dumped her chips in, gave the batter a final stir and I began ladling it onto the griddle.

Those were some of the best pancakes ever.

Later on, as I reflected on that sweet experience, I realized the powerful spiritual truth of that moment.  How many times has God asked me to do something and I hesitate: "God, I don't know how."  I don't move; I'm paralyzed by my own perceptions.  But just as I gave my niece my "hand power" to sprinkle those chips, God gives us His power to do what He asks.  My niece did not resist me, she allowed me to help her.  When we yield to God, His Holy Spirit comes in close and takes over, granting us the ability to do what we feel inadequate to do: loving when it's hard, forgiving when we've been hurt, launching out into a new area of ministry.  In the kitchen that day, I saw with my own eyes a real-life example of Philippians 4:13, that Scripture we always quote but never really live like we believe:

"...For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength." (New Living Translation)

My niece felt she could not do what I'd asked her because she didn't know how.  When I gave my strength and knowledge to the situation, she was able to respond.  In the same way, when the truth of God's words and His mighty hand touches our lives, we can break free from our self-imposed paralysis and do what He's asked.

So my question for you today is, What is God asking you to do?  Allow Him to place His loving hands over your hands, your heart, your mind. You can respond to His instructions with confidence knowing He will empower you to do the difficult or impossible in your life.  I pray the results will be as sweet for you as they were for me.

The Struggle is Real!

I love food.

There.  I said it.  I love food.  I love eating food.  I love watching shows about food.  I love reading about food.  I love cooking food.

You'll tell me that I'm obsessed.  I'll tell you that the appropriate term is that I'm a foodie.   You'll say I have a food addiction.  I'll say....

You're right.  I AM addicted to food.  I use it to celebrate, to manage stress, to show love, to comfort myself or others, to feel in control of something...the list goes on.  Plus, God has apparently gifted me to cook and bake.  (I've even been paid to do that a few times.)  Surely this can't be a problem, right?

The scale and the mirror say, Yes.  It's a problem.

I was in the kitchen putting lunches together for my husband and me this week, carefully measuring out some crackers and feeling resentful that I had to be so judicious as to measure the amount I was placing into baggies.  "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels," I reminded myself. (This is the mantra I dutifully repeated at the end of Weight Watchers meetings more times than I care to count.)

That's when it hit me - and I know it was the Holy Spirit who brought this to light - I don't know what thin feels like.  I've struggled with my weight all of my life.  I've never, ever been close to anything that resembles thinness, so how can I know what good feelings come with being thin?  I can imagine how great that must feel, but I know for sure how terrific it feels to eat  ______________(fill in the blank) because I've experienced it.  I've never experienced being thin.

Recently a friend invited me to join an online Bible/book study with Proverbs 31 Ministries involving Lysa Terkeurst's Made to Crave.  This is not a diet book, but a study that helps women find their satisfaction in God rather than in food.  Written by someone who has walked this path ahead of us, there is an amazing vulnerability in Lysa's writing.  Here are some of the things I can look forward to in this study, as listed on the Proverbs 31 Ministries website (www.proverbs31.org):

-Break the cycle of “I’ll start again on Monday,” and feel good about yourself today.
-Stop agonizing over numbers on the scale and make peace with your body.
-Replace rationalization that leads to diet failure with wisdom that leads to victory.
-Reach your healthy goals and grow closer to God through the process.

I bought the book and signed up for the online study along with thousands of other women.  In a way, I find it sad that so many of God's daughters feel so awful about themselves because of their weight - but at the same time, I'm comforted by the thought that I am not alone in this.  And neither are you.  Maybe food isn't your thing.  Maybe you satisfy your cravings with other things - Facebook.  TV.  Shopping.  Alcohol.  Whatever it is, you were made to crave God, not stuff.  This study can help you, too.  Interested?  There's still time to join in!  Check it out here.

So there you have it.  I've gone public with my struggle.  If you see me eating something you don't think I should be eating, please avoid judging me.  Pray for me instead.  And know that My Father and I, we've got this.