Menu-Planning Mojo

In the coming two weeks, I'm gonna need all the cooking mojo I can muster. I usually just cook two to three meals a week and eat the leftovers for lunch and dinner. It's easy; I only cater to my own whims. But I often find cooking for myself boring, which is why I like to try new recipes and new techniques and to play with new ingredients. For instance, a friend gave me some culinary lavender on Friday, and I spent a good bit of time researching recipes that evening (while watching Frozen). I've already made lavender ice cream and 16 lavender scones. I baked three scones and ate them with lemon curd and froze the others unbaked, so I can pull them out and bake them anytime.

I hope my success with my lavender treats has got me on a good foot for all the meals I have to make in the coming weeks. The first is a pancake breakfast for my company--Olive Tree--to celebrate a big software update that our development team has been working on for more than a year. We also invited the folks at Partners to breakfast since we're using their space to cook and eat. I'm guessing we'll be cooking for 35-40 people. The seven managers are cooking, but I'm in charge of planning the menu, buying ingredients, and giving orders on Wednesday morning. Despite the sometimes-harried nature of these events, I always like adding another event like this to my cooking resume. You never know when it will come in handy. The menu is has a lot of moving pieces, though: pancakes, waffles, crepes, fruit, baked egg dishes, sausage, and drinks. Wish me luck!

On Monday night, I'm hosting around 10 people at my house for our monthly children's ministry committee meeting. We used to have almost more food limitations in this group than I could count: vegetarian, doctor-ordered low-carb diet, gluten-intolerant, and a slight dairy-intolerance. While the gluten intolerant people are no longer in the group, I still try to be creative when I cook for this group, so the menu is as follows: Spring Risotto with asparagus and peas, deviled eggs, and cut veggies with homemade ranch dressing. I was planning to make a pavlova for dessert with baked meringues, a triple-berry compote, and whipped cream, but I was informed at church today that the dessert would be brought by my friend Karen. I have to admit I was disappointed, but as the reason for this dessert switch-up is my birthday the next day, I'm inclined to give in. :)

I have a reprieve on my birthday and will be enjoying milkshakes with a group of friends at the Milk Bottle, a classic Spokane joint. On Wednesday, I'll prep a meal with my friend Gerry for my church's monthly family night. In light of Easter the following Sunday, we decided on a simple menu of ham, green salad, sliced bread with butter, colored hard-boiled eggs, and Oreo Rice Crispy treats. Piece of cake!

The next day, my parents come into town until the day after Easter. We'll celebrate my 25th birthday and my dad's 60th birthday, both big milestones! I love planning the menu when my parents visit because they are so easily pleased. :) Thursday night, we'll have one-pot Arroz con Pollo. Friday, we're having Lemon Brioche Baked French Toast for breakfast. Lunch will be at a restaurant in town. Dinner will be Alaskan salmon and a wild rice casserole. A friend of mine gave me three filets of salmon and one filet of halibut several weeks ago that her husband caught himself in Alaska. I was so amazed at her generosity! I feel like I have pure (food) gold in my freezer.

Breakfast and lunch on Saturday are yet to be determined, but we'll likely need picnic food that day. The evening will feature broiled New York strip steaks and popovers filled with creamed asparagus. Dessert will be lemon ice cream and homemade shortbread. Yum! Easter is still up in the air, though I'm guessing my pavlovas will be on the menu for dessert. I've also spent this weekend filling my freezer with granola, vanilla frozen yogurt, and lavender scones and ice cream, so whatever else we are, we won't be hungry.

I found all my menu planning ironic after the sermon at my church today on Jesus' statement "I am the bread of life." Hunger is not what I'm feeling right now, but there was still something in the sermon for my food-filled brain. "In one of the most crucial points of Jesus' life," my pastor said, "he proclaimed that 'Man does not live by bread alone, but by the Word of God.' We still live on the Word of God, the Word made flesh, the Bread of Life." I'll keep this in mind as I eat and prepare meals in the coming weeks. God's grace is abundance. It's filet mignon once a day with peanut butter chocolate cheesecake for dessert. It's good to feel hunger, like the self-imposed hunger of Lent, but it's right to celebrate, too. And what better to time to celebrate than Easter?

Extending Grace: The Ministry of Bearing

I can't remember when this idea first crept into my mind. We've been going through an excellent sermon series at church this fall about the facets of the Kingdom of God, things like fellowship, witness, simplicity, covenant, and persecution. It could have been in one of these sermons. Or the idea could have poked up its head in one of my conversations with a mentor or friend. I've also been leading a book study at church on Dietrich Bonhoeffer's pithy volume Life Together. I'm sure the idea partly came about through this book. Simply put, the big idea that's been on my mind and in my heart is the call that we have to extend grace to our fellow human beings.

Bonhoeffer gave me the words to express what this ministry is called in Scripture: the ministry of bearing. Paul writes: "Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindess, humility, meekness and patience, bearing with one another..." (Col. 3:12-13a). As I've thought more about it, my experiences in life recently have given body and shape to this idea of bearing with or extending grace to others. Or, more accurately, life has tested my limited ability to extend grace.

In church a couple weeks ago, my pastor introduced new members to the congregation. He said something like: "We have a divine call to welcome these new members into our congregation and to love them, to delight in their gifts, passions, idiosyncracies and oddities." The congregation laughed, but the truth is plain as day. We're all a bunch of idiosyncratic weirdos. Need any evidence? Spend 10 minutes with another person. Or, better yet, spend two minutes with yourself!

In my book study yesterday, we discussed the ministry of bearing with others as Bonhoeffer describes it. I was still trying to understand what this ministry was, so I asked three questions: 1) What is the ministry of bearing? 2) Have you ever thought of this as a ministry? 3) How do we practice the ministry of bearing? One person very thoughtfully said, "Well, it kinda sounds like putting up with others." We all laughed and agreed. I didn't expect to have my questions answered in one fell swoop, but there it was, clear as day. Bonhoeffer further describes the ministry of bearing:

"The freedom of the other person includes all that we mean by a person's nature, individuality, endowment. It also includes his weaknesses and oddities, which are such a trial to our patience, everything that produces frictions, conflicts, and collisions among us. To bear the burden of the other person means involvement with the created reality of the other, to accept and affirm it, and, in bearing with it, to break through to the point where we take joy in it."    

Notice he says that we "break through" to the point of joy. We don't usually get there right away. It takes struggle to bear this ministry faithfully. Perhaps this concept has been so striking to me recently because life has been so ordinary and this is a ministry of ordinariness. What could be more day-to-day than colliding with the created reality of our brothers and sisters? I could count out the examples from today alone in a few short minutes, but I do have two stories I want to share particularly.

The first story is from this summer when I took a day trip with my family to the Oregon Coast. For my family, family vacations are full of laughter and fun, but also memories of personalities colliding and expectations being thwarted. At the very beginning of the day, my dad insisted that he needed to deposit his check in the bank before we did anything else. Somehow, this started us off on a brilliant way of handling each other's "weaknesses and oddities." Whenever someone's oddities poked through and caused friction, we would gleefully shout: "Quirk! Quirk!" Instead of causing more tension, this simple statement released the tension, like the cap being opened on a soda. The tension fizzled away, and we would inevitably burst into laughter. But beyond just releasing the tension, acknowledging each other's quirks gave us insight into each other's needs and wants and gave us an avenue for communication. It opened up the possibility of extending grace to each other, and I learned a valuable lesson.

Bearing with each other isn't always so easy. It doesn't always have a good outcome. But this doesn't change our calling to bear with each other. In fact, I believe that God will, as he always does, extend grace to us as we extend grace to others.

Several weeks ago, my friend and I were cooking pancakes for breakfast. I had made a delightfully fluffy sour cream pancake batter, and my friend was in charge of flipping. As she poured on batter, flipped the pancakes, and slid the cooked hotcakes onto a platter, she told me about the tough time at work she'd had the day before. As she talked, I noticed that she was pressing all the air out of the pancakes with her spatula, thus ruining the airy fluffiness that had so excited me. The words were almost out of my mouth when a thought popped into my mind. She is upset, and she's taking her frustration out on these pancakes. It was a totally mindless act because she was focused on telling me her story. And what was I doing? Worrying about culinary perfection. Then came the three redemptive words: "Extend her grace." And I did. I shut my mouth and listened and ate flat pancakes with a new appreciation.

Birthday Celebrations!

 

I had a blessed 24th birthday on Monday this week and enjoyed a couple celebrations with friends. On Friday night, my two friends from church took me out to dinner at Sante, the restaurant I enjoyed with my parents back in February. We ordered a Fromage plate to share with three kinds of cheese, salami, homemade mustard, apple-cherry preserve, candied walnuts, raisins, and slices of baguette. My main dish was ravioli stuffed with pork confit (con-fee) and apple cream cheese and covered with a mushroom crema sauce. Delicious! We finished up with bread pudding that had a homemade marshmallow to the side and butterscotch sauce drizzled over the top. The atmosphere of Sante and conversation made for a wonderful evening! Thanks Cindy and Becca!

 

On Sunday evening, I had the pleasure of cooking my mom's wonderful lasagna for several of my friends and housemates. We talked about our alter-egos at the dinner table, and then went out for Froyo. You don't want to know what was on my Peanut Butter/Birthday Cake frozen yogurt. Let's just say I have a high sugar tolerance. :)

 

My co-worker Emily and I joke that we're the same person because people call her Elizabeth and me Emily. We sometimes call ourselves Emily Elizabeth, like the owner of Clifford, the books about the big, red dog. So, as a present, Emily crocheted this adorable mini-Clifford for me: 

 

 

On Monday, I left work early and drove up to Trader Joe's (next two pictures). Call me crazy, but I simply love looking around that store. I didn't even get a ton of exciting stuff, just chicken breasts (which are currently in my Crock-Pot with onions, salsa, and taco seasoning), bacon, Fontina cheese, Roasted Red Pepper Spread with Eggplant and Garlic on the recommendation of a friend, Yogurt O's Strawberry Cereal, and a bouquet of flowers. I was having trouble getting my face, the flowers, and the Trader Joe's sign in the picture without blinding myself (the sun was bright!), so this is the best picture you'll get: 

 

I love having fresh flowers in the house again! My co-worker got me the Nutter Butters as a present. It's peanut butter. Enough said!

 

My housemate Pam made me this lovely sign and hung it above our front door. It's so great! It was the first thing I saw when I walked upstairs at 6 AM on Monday.

My housemate started her first day of a new job on Monday, so to celebrate doubly, my housemates Pam (left), Justina (right), and I went to a taco truck for dinner. We got a simply delicious burrito with marinated pork and onions and nachos with ground beef. It was delicious!

 

My co-worker bought me a bag of candy Princess jewelry with two necklaces, two rings, two lipsticks, and a bracelet with a "diamond." She said I'm the Party-Planning Princess at work, so I needed appropriate accessories. I put the ring on my finger and almost had to eat it off. Oops! A bunch of us in the office also love Downton Abbey, so she got me this awesome t-shirt! If you're Downton-Abbey literate, you'll know that Mr. Carson is a black-and-white, toe-the-line butler who also has a good heart. :)

 

We had our April birthday celebration at work and one of my co-workers brought this enormous, pizza-sized cookie! It was quite the sight! We also had brownies, a Mexican dip with chips, and fruit. I was a little sugared out at dinner, so I ate salad, roasted asparagus, and roasted cauliflower leftovers and a bowl of Strawberry Yogurt O's for dinner. Yum!

 

 

Overall, my birthday was a delight. However, in light of the bombings in Boston that happened on my birthday, I realized and continue to reflect on how grateful I am for the gift of life and for the gift of so many friends and family who have made my twenty-four years full of joy. Thank you! Life is precious, and I pray that we're each able to embrace life with the joy and courage given to us through Jesus Christ. 

In the Thick of Lent

It's funny to me that spring is at once bursting with promise and notoriously lean. The bursting-with-promise part is easy to imagine as spring bulbs begin to pop up everywhere. However, the notoriously lean part only occurred to me after reading (or re-reading) one of my favorite non-fiction books, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, by Barbara Kingsolver. The second-to-last chapter in Kingsolver's book about eating locally with her family for a year is entitled "Hungry Month: February-March." She writes:

"January is widely held to be the bugbear of local food, but the hungriest month is March, if you plan to see this thing through. Your stores are dwindling, your potatoes are sending pale feelers out into the void, but for most of us there is nothing new under the sun of muddy March, however it might intend to go out like a lamb. A few spring wildflowers, maybe, but no real eats. Our family was getting down to the bottom of our barrel" (322).

She goes on to extol the wonders of the chest freezer, but I won't go into that here. :)

When I take my almost daily walks up to Whitworth's campus, it doesn't look like spring will ever come. The grass is dank and yellowed and it's hard to imagine it will ever be lush and green or that the trees will ever have blossoms and leaves. If you really do live off the land and what you have to eat is all in your freezer and root cellar, you have to be creative with what you have left. The root veggies of winter are wrinkled and woody and the asparagus, lettuce, and spinach of spring are only just beginning. It's an awkward, in-between time.

I'm definitely in the thick of my Lenten discipline. We're already four weeks from Ash Wednesday, but we're still two-and-a-half weeks from Easter. For one deprived of sugar on a daily basis, Easter seems especially distant. (As I write, my housemate is making double chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen. Really? Is this fair?!) If I'm honest with myself, I am longing for Easter, but I also like that Easter feels distant and that my deprivation weighs on me and temptation surrounds me. These are the necessary and even, dare I say, good rigors of Lent. I love that the Church Year acknowledges the times in the course of a normal human life that are in limbo. It's not winter and not yet spring. It's not Christmas and not yet Easter. Primroses on racks outside Fred Meyer and royal purple crocuses are the only harbingers of spring.

That makes me wonder about the harbingers of Easter. When we look to Jesus' life and ministry, I would say baptism, temptation, cross, and grave. The road ahead of us to Easter is Lenten and is so very like this time between winter and spring. Where there is life after Easter and spring, we see only death during Lent. Yellowed grass and gnarled trees. Temptation and deprivation. Sin and selfishness.

But the great news about Easter is that it radically changes everything, and it's not just the appearance of things that change. It's not just that the grass becomes green and lush and the trees bud and the flowers bloom. It's not just that I can once again eat cookies and ice cream. It's that our very nature changes.

"We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ...for when we died with Christ [in baptism] we were set free from the power of sin. And since we died with Christ, we know we will also live with him" (Romans 6:6-8).

Temptation gives way to victory. Darkness becomes light. Death leads to life. And, best of all, the crucified Christ becomes the Risen Christ.

Blessed Fellowship

I've had some great times of fellowship in the past week. Here's a couple snippets:

1. Last Friday night (1/4), I had a potluck dinner with two friends from church, Margaret and Bethany. Margaret's retired and Bethany is in grad school. I made Sweet Potato Black Bean burritos, Margaret had a delicious Italian salad with olives and tomatoes, and Bethany made a delicious chocolate pudding cake. We just had the most wonderful time talking together all about life and our Christmas vacations and families. I love hanging out with people of all different ages.

2. The first Tuesday of every month is a lunch with Partners friends that we call FIRED, Food is Really Ethnically Delicious. We moved the lunch to the second Tuesday this month because of New Year's Day, and we had the most wonderful experience. We were going to eat Thai food, but the restaurant was closed, so we ended up eating at an Ethiopian restaurant in a gas station/convenience store that's just opened about a mile from work. The couple that runs the restaurant came from Ethiopia 10 years ago to give their children a chance to get an education. It was our first truly ethnic meal for FIRED. We didn't order, though there was a menu. Rather, the owner brought us each a dish she made, a sampling from the menu. Before we ate, she walked around to each person with a special bowl and pitcher. She poured a warm stream of water over our hands while we scrubbed and then we dried off with a towel. We did this because you eat Ethiopian food with your hands by wrapping pieces of Injera flatbread around the meat and veggies. The food was delicious and the owner also roasted coffee beans and made us strong Ethiopian coffee. I even tried a bit just for the experience. It was fun!

3. On Tuesday, despite rather treacherous road conditions, five women met together at one woman's house for our montly Colbert Women Connecting With Women event. Because there were only five of us, each of us had a longer time to share than normal. We shared all about our Christmas breaks and the emotions that accompanied our vacations. It's always so good to share in these circumstances because several of us were experiencing similar emotions, especially reflecting on how family dynamics change as children age, move out of the house, and get married or have kids. Did anyone experience a different Christmas with these kinds of changes? What was it like?

4. On Thursday, my friend Kari who is visiting for the week, my housemates Pam and Heidi, and I had Blueberry Yogurt Multigrain Pancakes for dinner with grapefruit, scrambled eggs, and kale/craisin/goat cheese salad. It was so fun! I love breakfast for dinner. After dinner, we had an awesome dance party! Yay for Owl City and One Direction! :)

5. Yesterday morning, my housemate Heidi and I had book club with our former professor Laura Bloxham. We've been discussing a book of short stories by Jhumpa Lahiri, which I highly recommend. But the most lovely part of the morning was the way Laura asked thoughtful questions about my and Heidi's lives and about the story we were studying. She is always interested and listens attentively and graciously. It gives me the wonderful feeling of being heard and understood. It was a good reminder to me that I need to continue to cultivate these qualities. What a lovely gift to give to someone: careful listening and thoughtful questions!

Each of these experiences and many more this week are evidence to me of God's continued and unmerited grace in my life. I tell these stories to inspire you to look for times of fellowship in your own life and to thank God for them. And honestly, my weeks vary. I'm not always surrounded with such opportunities for fellowship, but when the opportunities arise, I want to relish them.

The last thing I want to write about that's unrelated is the snow today. It's been simply gorgeous the past two days with blue skies and sun and continued so today. As I was sitting in church this morning, I looked out the window and the snow was falling so gently and quietly that it looked like it was floating in slow motion. It was magical. When I walked to my car, the snow sparkled on the ground like crystal. Thanks for the beauty, God!

May God bless you each with times of precious fellowship this week!

An Imperfect Christmas



On the Colbert women's retreat a couple weeks ago, one of the speakers confessed the tension caused when she wishes for a perfect Christmas. She wants the house to be perfectly clean, all the shopping done, cookies baked for each of her four children, and the list goes on. She deftly exposed the stark paradox of contemporary American Christmas. A holiday with the humblest of origins has become a rat race for who can have the biggest, the best, the most expensive, and the most together Christmas.

 

Perhaps this is why A Charlie Brown Christmas is so endearing to us. It presents imperfection candidly. This is also why I love the book The Best Christmas Pagent Ever by Barbara Robinson (please, please read it if you haven't!). What turns out in both movie and book to be nearly disastrous is actually the source of the most poignant Christmas truths. Who can forget Linus' recitation of the Christmas story? Who can overlook the tears of Imogene Herdman as she holds baby Jesus?

 

At Christmas, I love sorting through the boxes of ornaments my parents, sister, and I have collected over the years. Each one carries a memory of a beloved friend or family member. Over Thanksgiving, I picked out a four-foot tree from my grandpa's Christmas Tree Farm and drove it back to Spokane with a box full of my ornaments. One ornament in particular was destined for the prime spot on my small, Charlie-Brownish tree:    

 

 

As I was shopping at Target between Thanksgiving and now, I saw lots of gaudy Christmas-tree toppers, and I disliked them all. My grandpa, the Christmas tree farm owner, made me this rough, wood-hewn star and spray-painted it this bronzy-gold color. Its hook is fashioned from a piece of spare wire that came from my grandpa's shop. Besides the fact that my grandpa made this ornament for me, I love it because it's imperfect. It's just wood. It's not shiny or flashy. It reminds me of the manger and the scared parents and the cold night and the smelly animals. My star is perfect even with its imperfections.

 

It reminds me that Jesus' birth was perfect even with its imperfections, too. And with the reality of God Incarnate, who is free from sin, we're forced to embrace humility and imperfection while clinging to the fact that the only imperfection Jesus embraces is ours.   

 

**

 

On Sunday, I joined a group of adults and kids from Colbert on a Christmas caroling trip. We visited a number of homebound seniors from our church community. There were lots of imperfections about our caroling trip. We tracked in mud on a white carpet. The 10-year-old violin player was squeaky. We were several keys above our normal singing range. The bodies of the people we visited are failing.

 

But somehow our ragtag group still proclaimed the Christmas message. And perhaps proclaimed it better because we joined the legions of stories, experiences, hymns, and Gospel truths that tell of the real reason Christmas is best with a little imperfection. I believe Charles Wesley says it best: "Hark! The Herald angels sing. Glory to the newborn king! Peace on earth and mercy mild. God and sinners reconciled."

 

May this Christmas be one in which you embrace the perfect love of a God who chooses to embrace our fumbling imperfections, bronzy gold paint, rough edges, squeaky voices, and all.

Autumn

Autumn is here. I went on a walk/run after work today and it was cold enough to need a sweatshirt and warm enough to wear shorts and sandals. I've noticed that Spokane fall air smells dry and sweet, as if the golden autumn sun could impart a scent. The world takes on new depth and perspective.

In my long walks, when my thoughts are free and untethered, I connect the seasons to different life stages. Perhaps because fall is the transition from summer to winter, I connect it to a person moving from one life stage to the next. Like transitions in life, leaving summer behind is bittersweet. But fall, like a transition, is also lovely in its own right. Though we leave good things behind, the transition itself is worthwhile, too. With God's grace, I come to a better knowledge of myself in times of transition.

Women from my church meet once a month on a Tuesday evening to enjoy two hours together. Last night, we met for a wonderful dinner and time of sharing. The discussion leader read a list of words aloud, and we each took five minutes to share which word we identified with most at the present time. Most people identified with one of two words: loss and belonging.

The word I chose was transition, but as I reflected, I realized that the word "transition" for me encompasses both loss and belonging. On my walk today, I headed up the hill behind my house to Whitworth's campus. Two years ago, I belonged here. I lived, worked, ate, and played with friends here. I walked, talked, and struggled here. I marveled and anticipated here. But though the campus is still familiar, I don't belong there in the same way anymore. I belong to the tenuous world of adulthood. Tenuous because I'm still trying to figure out how it works.

There is sometimes a sense of loss, too. But only sometimes. Not because I'm not happy with life now, but rather because I can never go back to being an undergraduate student. A chapter in my life has closed and though it can be revisited in memory, it can never be re-lived.

Several of the women last night visited states over the summer where they had previously lived. Each one saw family members and old friends and felt that the visit had renewed the abiding, albeit long-distance, connections. One woman reflected, "When I was in Colorado, I realized that though I still belong with my friends and family there, I no longer belong to the place. It was a freeing feeling."

Her comment resonated with others in the room, and now that I think back on it, that's exactly how I feel about Whitworth. Though I belong with the people who are still at Whitworth, I no longer belong to Whitworth as a place. My daily life doesn't revolve around the school. And honestly, that's a freeing feeling. On Sunday, someone asked me if I missed being a student. My honest answer was, "No." There are things I miss about being a student, but overall, I'm savoring this time of transition between being a child and being an adult. With God's grace in this time of transition, I am coming to a better knowledge of myself.

Fall inspires me to think about these things. My life takes on new depth and perspective in the fall. Does yours? How?

Part Two: The Daily Duties

Now to what I actually do from day to day. Oh boy. It’s complicated. People ask me what I do and sometimes I honestly don’t know what to say. I’ll start by explaining what Olive Tree Bible Software does. Olive Tree has several applications that run on mobile devices like the iPad, iPhone, and Android, Mac desktop, and will soon run on PC desktop. When you purchase and download the app, which is called BibleReader, you can read the Bible, commentaries, Bible dictionaries, and many other Christian books and use the special features that the app contains. It’s a cool resource!

**

I work right under the company’s president. Because it’s a small company, the president has direct input into most of the details of the company, which currently has six-ish departments. The basic tenor of my job is to manage projects that involve individuals from more than one department, but I’ve also been helping with customer support, submitting in-app purchases to iTunes, typing up Christmas carols for our Christmas party, making a chart of coming projects, sitting in on interviews, etc…

**

As you can tell, the job varies from day to day, which is actually quite fun. Every day is different. I have learned SO much in the past month and a half. I’m finally to the place where I’ve been managing simpler projects on my own. Next week, I’ll be managing my first bigger project. I’m looking forward to the challenge. I’m slowly getting to know my co-workers better. We had our office Christmas Party on Wednesday night at a gorgeous place called Beacon Hill that overlooks Spokane. It was a great chance to get to know my co-workers and their spouses. I had several enjoyable conversations. And the food was great! It helped me feel more like I belonged at Olive Tree.

**

I have still been baby-sitting two kids from 7:15 to 8:45 a.m. Monday through Thursday. The money helps pay for my student loans, and I’ve gotten to know the kids. I like them, though they certainly have their ups and downs. Last Thursday, the ten-year-old girl and I were making eggs-in-a-nest (a piece of bread cooked with an egg in the middle) for breakfast, and I cracked my egg over the hole in the bread. It felt different than normal because it was hardboiled. She and I thought that was so funny. We just cracked up!

**

(Pun intended.)

**

One last highlight, I went to a 80s dance party fundraiser for clean water last Saturday. My housemates got really into my hair crimping and make-up, so I looked pretty awesome. I’ll include a picture here. I love to dance! I may or may not have been dancing around my kitchen to Christmas music this week. :o)

**

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As you can see, God has been so good to me with this job. It uses many of my gifts and talents, though in unexpected ways, and it’s a great work environment. We have lots of laughs and jokes, and there’s always a tempting basket of chocolate in the break room. :o) For the record, I plan to start writing on my blog at least once a week. If I’m going to go to the trouble of having a blog, I might as well write! Check back soon!

**

May God bless you this Advent day to look forward to Christmas with joyful anticipation!

A Cooking Debacle and Grocery Update

Here's an update on my Grocery Challenge:

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On Thursday, Oct. 5, I spent $12.04 at Eleven Acres Farm. I bought tomatillos, anaheim peppers, and green bell peppers to make my own enchilada sauce (thanks to my friend Megan for this idea). I bought onions, two pie pumpkins (to make pumpkin butter), a buttercup squash, and an acorn squash. You know it's fall when winter squash becomes a consistent menu item. :o) Finally, I bought a box of Asian pears, which I haven't had since my junior year. When I was a junior, my roommate's family had orchards of apples, Asian pears, and more, so we were the recipients of boxes of fruit whenever her family visited.

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I realized after leaving Eleven Acres that I had just spent 1/5 of my budget. Yipes! Well, now I know how easy it is to spend money, even on healthy fruits and veggies. Fortunately, I should be set for a while now. I did buy $4.73 worth of raspberries, too, but I am putting those in a separate category, per the suggestion of my friend Lorry. Some of those jars will be reserved for Christmas gifts anyway. So, now you know the bald truth. I have $37.96 left to spend. Can it be done? Stay tuned.

**

Now I'll turn to the story behind the title of this post. My mentor, Dottie Mohrlang, had come up with a great idea. For Whitworth's Homecoming this weekend, Dottie is hosting an alum who is getting an award, and Dottie wanted several female students to have dinner together and talk with this woman. Dottie offered to buy ingredients if I would make the main course, White Chili. I happily agreed. It seemed perfect. I would get to cook, but not have to pay for the ingredients.

**

After a delightful Bible study this morning, which I'm doing with Janie Edwards and six other 2011 Whitworth grads, I set out to make the soup. I have so much experience with cooking that I wasn't worried about the soup at all. I just knew it would be good. When I got home, my housemate Katie was already making a big pot of Taco Soup, so the kitchen was crowded. I started my soup and after an hour had the whole thing simmering on the stove. I turned the temperature all the way up to heat the soup thoroughly and ran downstairs to make a few calls.

**

When I came back up, the soup was bubbling furiously and the kitchen was filled with the acrid smell of smoke. No! I grabbed another pot and dumped the soup into it, thinking this would solve the problem. I immediately plunged the other pot into scalding water. Maybe I've saved it, I thought.

**

But then Katie tasted the salvaged soup and yelped, "Oh! That's awful! You can't serve that, Elizabeth!"

**

"What can I possibly do then? I'm supposed to meet a friend in half an hour, and I don't have ingredients to make another pot of soup. And these weren't even my ingredients! They're Dottie's!" I shot back, distressed.

**

I went out to the porch, sat down hard in a lawn chair, and brooded. And reluctantly thought back to Bible Study this morning where we had talked about giving praise to God in the hard times. I tried to do it, but I was dismayed with myself for one primary reason: Dottie had given me these ingredients to steward, and I had failed.

**

I called my mom and asked for sage words of advice. This too shall pass, she said. For goodness sake. Of course she's right (as usual). But I could smell the burnt soup from my room. I called Dottie immediately and confessed. Of course, Dottie took it in stride, especially when I told her of the happy and altogether gracious end to the story: Katie gave me her pot of taco soup. Later I got this text from Katie: "Elizabeth, we all burn stuff! Please take the taco soup. :)" I did.

**

The evening turned out well. We had a delicious dinner and a delightful conversation. But the burnt soup did cause me to put my theological training into action. I was a poor steward of something that was entrusted to me. And rather than receive punishment from those who were wronged, I received grace. The only punishment came from my distressed and guilty state of mind. But accepting the gift of grace from Dottie and Katie gave me freedom, freedom to be forgiven and enjoy the God-orchestrated fact that Katie was making a soup that fit equally well with our side dishes of salad and cornbread. This experience can easily be translated to that of humanity and it's with this that I leave you. Praise God for his grace to humanity! Even when we fail to be good stewards, God's grace abounds.

**

Nevertheless, a word to the wise. Don't leave your soup unattended on a hot burner. :o)

Through every period of my life...

It seems transition is a word on everyone's tongue. There are major transitions happening at an organizational level at my work. I'm transitioning from the steadiness of school to the new rhythm of a job. I have new housemates, a new place to live, a new identity. I can no longer claim the identity of student. What am I now? An adult? I guess that's my new title. But there has to be something more than that.

With a tip from my mom, I bought a personal-size watermelon at Fred Meyer on Sunday night. I didn't cut into it until Monday evening when I was packing my lunch for the following day. I cut easily into the deep pink flesh of the melon and was pleased to see firmness, no mush. I carved away the green rind and popped a pink square into my mouth. The pleasure of the flavor and cool, crisp texture was pure joy. I continued to cut squares and throw them into a Tupperware. My housemate, Katie, and her boyfriend were making tacos in the kitchen alongside me. When I came to the second half of the melon, I had an overwhelming need to share this delicious treat with them. What was there of my joy if it couldn't be shared? The next morning, I opened the compost bin to throw in my banana peel and saw two watermelon rinds just the size of the ones I had shared. That evening, Katie announced that she had bought two of those same watermelons. "It was so good!" She declared. I smiled. By sharing my joy, my joy had doubled.

I'll admit I was dreading Tuesday afternoon. It was a foolish thing to dread. I had asked Brad Beal, my faithful helper, to move furniture from my friend Lydia's house to my house. I dislike moving furniture. It wears me out. On the way out of the neighborhood, we passed a lemonade stand manned by a gaggle of girls. I wanted to trade places with them. When Brad and I arrived at Lydia's, we strategized at how best to move the loads of furniture from one house to the other. Lydia's fiance, Tyler, and Brad made quick work of loading the mattresses, dresser, and bookshelf into Brad's van. Before I knew what was happening, Tyler insisted that I stay at the house and help Lydia cook while he and Brad delivered the loads of furniture to my house. I did not protest. Lydia and I had a delightful time making a lentil and rice casserole and a peach cobbler before Brad and Tyler returned.

When they did come back, Tyler handed me a lime green otter pop. "We stopped at the lemonade stand, and they had otter pops, too," Brad said. I eagerly cut off the top and sucked up the icy slush--sour apple. Yum! While I was sucking away, Tyler told me where they had put all the furniture and that they had even set up my bed on its frame. Suddenly, realization hit me like the warm water of a shower in the early morning. Grace. Wonderful, sweet grace. In my childish dread of moving, God had still decided to bless me with two men who moved everything back and forth with consummate efficiency. And here I was sucking on an otter pop, enjoying a forthright conversation with a person who will soon experience one of life's greatest transitions: marriage. More grace. In the midst of many transitions, here was an outpouring of grace...to me. To complaining, wayward, fearful, self-centered me.

***

Two songs have meant a lot to me in the past week. The first is a hymn we sang at church on Sunday entitled When All Thy Mercies. Here are just several of the verses:

Unnumbered comforts to my soul

Thy tender care bestowed,

Before my infant heart could know

From whom those comforts flowed.

When worn with sickness, oft hast Thou,

With health renewed my face;

And, when in sins and sorrows bowed,

Revived my soul with grace.

Through every period of my life

Thy goodness I'll pursue

And after death, in distant worlds

The glorious theme renew.

I'm sure the older readers of this blog can attest to the loving care of the Lord through every period of life. Don't hesitate to do so! Gratitude is key to life with God. I found this hymn a beautiful testimony to the steadfastness of God in the sea of change that is life on earth. And yet, despite any change I experience, each stanza of this hymn reaffirms a simple truth that I needed to hear: God bestows grace and comfort and goodness upon us beyond our knowledge, our sins, our sorrows, and our transition-filled lives. Praise the Lord!

The other song is one that I just happened to catch on the radio yesterday. It's a new song from Switchfoot called Restless. The tune of the song is sweeping, and the lyrics are a poem. I love good poems. You really have to listen to it, though, to capture it. Look on YouTube for "Switchfoot Restless" and find the Radio Edit version. You can find the lyrics on www.air1.com under the music tab. The lyrics are worth reading. Listen and read if you have time. I hope you are edified by both these songs.

We have an overwhelming, driving desire for God. This desire is a gift from God; it keeps us longing, restless for God. But we have something even more valuable than this. We have a God who responds to our longing in every season of our life.

I want to be defined in this new stage by this grace of God that takes me by surprise, that keeps me restless and content at the same time, and somehow, mysteriously, doubles my joy. It's not a defined title, per se, but I think it's even better. It travels through every season of my life.