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.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
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.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
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.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
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.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
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!
Saturday, April 5, 2014
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.)
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:
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.
 |
| 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.
Saturday, January 18, 2014
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.
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.
Saturday, January 11, 2014
One more night with the frogs
I hate frogs.
They hide out in the most inconvenient of places. They are sticky, jumpy when startled and I'm pretty sure they are blind, too. The science teacher at my school (who has rescued me from small frogs in my classroom several times) tells me that they really are harmless and I shouldn't be so afraid of them. Whatever. I keep a broom in my classroom just for the purpose of shooting these unwanted creatures out the door like a hockey player sends a puck down the ice.
So this is why I have always found the account of Pharaoh, the children of Israel, and the plagues so creepy. One of the plagues sent upon Pharaoh and all of Egypt was a plague of frogs. We read about it in Exodus 8:1-14. God warned Pharaoh that if he didn't release God's people, the country would swarm with frogs. This is how The Message reads (verses 1-4):
They hide out in the most inconvenient of places. They are sticky, jumpy when startled and I'm pretty sure they are blind, too. The science teacher at my school (who has rescued me from small frogs in my classroom several times) tells me that they really are harmless and I shouldn't be so afraid of them. Whatever. I keep a broom in my classroom just for the purpose of shooting these unwanted creatures out the door like a hockey player sends a puck down the ice.
So this is why I have always found the account of Pharaoh, the children of Israel, and the plagues so creepy. One of the plagues sent upon Pharaoh and all of Egypt was a plague of frogs. We read about it in Exodus 8:1-14. God warned Pharaoh that if he didn't release God's people, the country would swarm with frogs. This is how The Message reads (verses 1-4):
"God said to Moses, “Go to Pharaoh and tell him, ‘God’s Message: Release my people so they can worship me. If you refuse to release them, I’m warning you, I’ll hit the whole country with frogs. The Nile will swarm with frogs—they’ll come up into your houses, into your bedrooms and into your beds, into your servants’ quarters, among the people, into your ovens and pots and pans. They’ll be all over you, all over everyone—frogs everywhere, on and in everything!’”"
Eww. You know I love to cook, so the thought of frogs in my kitchen just makes me squirm! (Let's not even think about frogs in the bed.) Well, Pharaoh is hard-headed and Egypt is overcome with frogs. Finally, Pharaoh relents and asks Moses to ask God to remove the frogs. Moses agrees and asks when Pharaoh would like him to pray (verses 8-10):
"Pharaoh called in Moses and Aaron and said, “Pray to God to rid us of these frogs. I’ll release the people so that they can make their sacrifices and worship God.”
Moses said to Pharaoh, “Certainly. Set the time. When do you want the frogs out of here, away from your servants and people and out of your houses? You’ll be rid of frogs except for those in the Nile.”
“Make it tomorrow.”
What????
"Moses said, “Tomorrow it is—so you’ll realize that there is no God like our God. The frogs will be gone. You and your houses and your servants and your people, free of frogs. The only frogs left will be the ones in the Nile.” (verse 11)
Pharaoh decided to spend one more night with those frogs in his house...his kitchen...his bedroom. Listen, if I had a plague of anything in my house, and had the promise that I could be rid of it, you can bet that my answer would be, "NOW!" So, why don't I?
Let me explain.
Last night at a women's event, I heard a message from Christine Caine, well known Australian preacher and all-around amazing woman of God. She spoke from this passage and exhorted us to get rid of the frogs we are still living with as daughters of God. Frogs like shame...guilt...fear...doubt...insecurity...the list goes on. We DON'T HAVE to live one more night with the frogs! We can leave them at the foot of the Cross and be free.
Yes, it is that simple. I realize that I don't know what you've done and what you've been through, and you don't know what I've done and what I've been through. But that doesn't matter. Your history doesn't have to determine your destiny - God is the author of your story, and He's still writing! He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His love is unfailing. His grace is sufficient. His forgiveness is freely offered. Nothing I have done or been through, or that you have done or been through, none of that changes who God is. He is our Father who longs for us to see ourselves through the rose-colored glasses of the blood of Jesus, His Son (thank you Christine for that visual). We must build our lives on the truth of God's Word, not the tainted pieces of our pasts.
So, in the words of Christine Caine, "When the world looks at you, do they see frogs or freedom?" Don't waste another moment like Pharaoh did! Pray that frog out of your house - out of your life - today.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
New Year, New Look, New Name, New Start
Welcome to 2014! Are you excited about the year ahead? No? That's okay. I've had to force myself to feel excited. Some days it's hard to read all of the social networking posts by people who really, really "feel" this new year thing. I just don't feel it. And I felt terrible about that until I read a Facebook post by a young man who was home on leave from his missionary work overseas. He commented on the fact that our calendar is man-made and is somewhat of an artificial way to keep our lives in order. While God does operate in times and seasons, He is not ruled by the turn of a page on our day-timer. I love how my young friend expressed it:
"...And as for resolutions.... there is only one January 1st per year... but there is also only 1 May 23rd per year as well. Each second is like a snowflake. No two are the same. Though each one seems small and insignificant...each one is a totally unique masterpiece. Every second is a chance to turn for the better... Every breath is a chance! And as for personal change, when we yield to Christ, we have the Holy Spirit come into us. He brings the change at all times, in all seasons, and through all circumstances. Time is not a valid excuse in the eyes of God. His love is here and His love is now."
This is so powerful. Every second is new. Every breath is fresh. Every day is a new day - another chance to live the life that God has designed for us, another opportunity to influence our world for His purposes, one more untarnished start. We don't have to wait for January 1st. I can start posting on this blog today, January 4th, I don't have to waste another year, another month (it's been 5 since my last post!) or even another moment. This excites me - or at the very least, motivates me to move forward.
Do you feel it yet?
Whatever it is you haven't done, haven't said, haven't tried, haven't gotten excited about - now is your time. Do it. Say it. Try it. Get excited about it. Go on with God. It's a new day.
"...And as for resolutions.... there is only one January 1st per year... but there is also only 1 May 23rd per year as well. Each second is like a snowflake. No two are the same. Though each one seems small and insignificant...each one is a totally unique masterpiece. Every second is a chance to turn for the better... Every breath is a chance! And as for personal change, when we yield to Christ, we have the Holy Spirit come into us. He brings the change at all times, in all seasons, and through all circumstances. Time is not a valid excuse in the eyes of God. His love is here and His love is now."
This is so powerful. Every second is new. Every breath is fresh. Every day is a new day - another chance to live the life that God has designed for us, another opportunity to influence our world for His purposes, one more untarnished start. We don't have to wait for January 1st. I can start posting on this blog today, January 4th, I don't have to waste another year, another month (it's been 5 since my last post!) or even another moment. This excites me - or at the very least, motivates me to move forward.
Do you feel it yet?
Whatever it is you haven't done, haven't said, haven't tried, haven't gotten excited about - now is your time. Do it. Say it. Try it. Get excited about it. Go on with God. It's a new day.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
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:
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."
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:
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| Photo credit: me! |
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?
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| 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.
Saturday, August 3, 2013
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)
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)
Saturday, July 6, 2013
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.
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.
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| How I celebrated my independence! |
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.
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 8, 2013
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"
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"
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
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.
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.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
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?
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
Thursday, April 11, 2013
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.
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.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
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.
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.
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