Saturday, June 13, 2015

A Lament for One Day

One Day

Waiting for one day is hard.
Because I don't know when one day is.
I only know it's one day closer.

Until then

One day more of sand squalls whipping across my skin
Taunting and tearing: "you are stuck here and there is no way out."

Gritty grinding filth in every crevice, captured between every cranny and corner of my eyes and ears.
Made mud by my ceaseless tears.

These tears brim over with miracles.
These tears make streams in the desert where Jesus meets me in the middle.
He plunges me beneath the waters and whispers a comforting command:
"You are being made new."

Being made new
For a place that exists one day beyond the desert.
Fresh mind and body bursting forth while shedding the old.
And over
And over

Being remade in the desert to withstand the glory of the Promised Land.

A caterpillar in its cocoon sheds it's skin five times.
Before it achieves breakthrough and one day becomes a butterfly.
How much metamorphosis will I endure before I am free to fly?

I want to lean into this process.
To be made ready for one day.
But the loneliness is deafening.
The brokenness is wholly consuming.
The betrayal and pain so fresh.

It's quite one thing to submit to the process of transformation and fight a war within.
Renew your mind
Renew your heart
Renew your faith
Renew, renew, renew.
But this external full-blown warfare on top of inner turmoil is a special brand of hell.

We are pressed on every side,
And yet, we are not crushed.
Under siege but not consumed
By flaming arrows that attack our blind spots and unprotected spaces.

God, our hearts howl for one day.

We pronounce blessing and forgiveness. 
But the deep wounds
The raw scars
We remain.
God remains.

By grace and confession forgiveness sets in the centre of my wounds.
Willing them to heal painfully,
One day,
So as to prevent hardening.

The miracle and pain of forgiveness.

Daily we choose
Despite pain - to forgive
Despite loneliness - to love
Despite sorrow - to find joy
Despite rejection - to seek belonging
Despite despair - to worship in the ruins.

Offering praises borne of hurt and anguish
Is a gift we can only extend towards heaven now
For praises birthed in pain, sung loud from a desolate place
Will only exist this side of eternity.

Our wounded healer.
With forgiveness in his offended hands and feet
His injured side
Receives our lament of painful praise and says

It is finished.

We wait for one day.

And trust that with these days that 




One day

Will come resurrection.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

Baked French Toast - the one that kind of avoids a heart attack...sort of

Ok - this is for the lovely people on facebook who asked for my recipe.  It's one I modified from the fantastic Pioneer Woman herself.  Her recipe is divine, but if you make it as often as I do, you or your children will die of diabetes or a stroke or something much faster than if you use this modified recipe. Maybe one day I will even add pictures to this, but given my history with my camera - don't wait for it. :)  Happy Christmas everyone!

Baked French Toast
1 Loaf sourdough, french bread, waldorf baguette - basically whichever one is 50% off because it's a day old :)
8 large eggs
2 1/2 cups milk (or 2 c. milk plus 1/2 c whipping cream - I'd like to live to see 75 so I don't, but the choice is yours)
3 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp vanilla extract
*Tear or cut up the bread, chuck it in a greased 9 by 13.  Mix other ingredients, pour over top and set in fridge (covered) overnight or on your counter for twenty minutes because you forgot to make it the night before.  If you do forget - just give the gooey bread crumbs a stir to make sure they are all coated after 20 minutes.

TOPPING:  you can also make this the night before  - but do not put it on the french toast until just before you bake it.
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup rolled oats (I'm sure quick oats would work fine if that's what you have!)
1/4 cup chopped pecans (*optional )
1/2- *3/4 cup cold butter (if I add the pecans I increase the butter, otherwise I usually stick with 1/2 cup butter)
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt
If your butter is frozen - just use a cheese grater to grate it right into your dry ingredient mixture - brilliant, right?  Thank you Mennonite Girls for the tip.  If it's just cold, you can cut it into the flour using a pastry cutter or whatever floats your boat when it comes to getting cold butter into flour.  Then mix in with the other dry ingredient.  It's basically like a fruit crumble topping now.

BAKING INSTRUCTIONS:  Preheat oven to 350 deg. F . Remove bread mix from fridge (or give it a stir on the counter if you don't plan ahead like me) and cover it with the glorious crumble.  Bake for 45 minutes- 1 hour, making sure the centre is set.

Serve with fruit and syrup and whipping cream and any and all fantastical things you can think to throw on top.  
*If you are tempted to double this recipe for a crowd - make two separate pans - I've found it impossible to, say, put it into a deep french white casserole dish and have the centre bake without the edges burning with double volume, my husband tells me it's science...pfft, whatever man.*

Sunday, September 21, 2014

The Truth About Hope

The truth about hope, is that it isn't hope until you anticipate fulfillment despite discouragment.

The truth about perseverance, is that it isn't perseverance until you have to carry on without seeing progress.

The truth about joy, is that it isn't joy until you dance with peace even in the middle of the storm.

The truth about obedience, is that it isn't obedience until you have to sacrifice to continue doing what's right.

The truth about unconditional love, is that it isn't that kind of love until you love despite the conditions you are in.

The truth about growth, is that there isn't growth without change.

And sometimes friends, that's just a lot of hard work. Work that makes us angry and frustrated.  Work that makes us feel like crying and giving up because it just feels like we are alone and the whole thing takes too long.

But don't give up.

Keep hoping.

Keep perservering.

Keep loving.

Keep choosing joy.

Keep obeying.

Keep believing.

The truth is no good thing becomes a good thing without first being tested.  

Carry on my fellow warriors - wherever your battle is.  I will light a candle and hold you and your struggles in my heart.  And maybe, if enough of us do this, we will look up in the middle of the middle of our journey, see those beacons of light and realize we are in good company.


Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Un Petit Facebook Rant

There are a lot of fantastic things about Facebook.  But every once in a while it makes me want to lose my mind.  This morning I got a bee in my bonnet - What? You don't wear a bonnet while you read facebook?  Odd.  

I digress.  I felt the need to rant a little about speak life into the way many use this social media outlet. I believe we can do better in regards to how we post about what other people are posting.  So enjoy. If you find rants enjoyable, that is:

Dear people of the internet: let's stop using facebook as the metric by which we measure a persons depth of character. Full stop. People will post things all day long that you don't fully agree or identify with.  And that's ok.  You can like it or not.  You can read it or not.  But I think we'd all be better off if we stopped trying to tell people when we post something how what they are posting is not the right thing to be posting.  

I just used post four times in one sentence.  Rants do not make for good writing and stuff. 

I'm sure you want to be known and judged by more than your facebook feed.  Quit trying to fix everyone else's feed and tend to your own.  I believe the literary expression you're now looking for is irony.  I get it.  And yet, I write.

If you post something because you identify with it, stop using shame and guilt as a way of corraling support. Hint: shame and guilt almost always start with "I bet you won't..." or "I know most people don't care about this but...".  If you can't say what needs to be said without firing off those weapons first, perhaps it should give pause for thought before you post it.  Perhaps I don't really mean perhaps.

Stop trying to judge a person's value by what they do and don't post or "like".  Social media is always a snapshot, it can never contain the whole of who we are as human beings.  Thank God for that. 

Believe the best in people.  They are quite often fantastic, even if you don't agree with everything they do, or if they are moved, or humoured, or excited, or passionate about different things than you are. There is enough humour, grief, joy and sadness in the world to go around and it's gonna show up in all different ways on our timelines.  Embrace diversity.  It's really so much more beautiful than the monotony of sameness.

Remember that people are seriously God's best invention ever. So instead of trying to find where someone's character is lacking by what they post - look for what they have. See their grief - even if you're more saddened by something else.  See the humour, even if it's not your particular brand. Reject the scarcity mentality that says that if you let them have their moment-feelings-attitude there won't be enough left for you.  Live with open hands instead of trying to tightly hold on to always being "right" - that's an exhausting burden to carry. Let it go and reflect abundance by looking for it and seeing it in others. 

Reflect generous, abundant spirits - even in how you preface what you post.  Turning weapons into tools that will build and grow a beautiful life starts with us.  Even on facebook.

There.  I feel better now.

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Red Lipstick and the Image of God

It's fair to say that it started with red lipgloss.

I walked into the store and decided that I was going to prove to myself that the world would not cast aspersions on me and friends would not disown me if I bought and wore red lipstick.  I purchased it and sat in the van.  I put it on and had a good long look at myself in the mirror.

First thing I noticed was that the mirror didn't crack.  Quelle relief. The second revelation was that no one in the parking lot, at least none that I could see were pointing and laughing at me. Phew. Third, I realized that I kind of liked how it looked. Well that's a new feeling.

Then I was stung with just a tiny bit of regret for never having bought anything bright or bold or really lipstick of any kind for many years because I had decided long ago, that bright and beautiful lips were for bright and beautiful people, and I knew, or at least for most of life I had convinced myself that I was definitely not that.

But I was in the middle-beginnings of some pretty transformative stuff in my life and one of those thoughts I was test driving was this idea that I was worthy of beauty.  This somehow felt safer than saying "I am beautiful".  Baby steps, right?

So I suppose it didn't really start with the gloss, but rather this revolutionary idea that,women, all women - including myself, were created as a primary reflection  of the image of God.


It doesn't seem to matter what you look like, your shape, your size, your personality - if you want to hear the vast majority of women start going down a laundry list of self deprecating comments about themselves, just try and compliment who they are or how they look.  

We will tell you all the ways we aren't nice if you point out strength of character.  We will tell you everything about our form that we wish was different if you dare to say there is something exceptional about the way we look.  We'll make sure you know our pretty shirt was on sale, or toss out the "this old thing?" if you tell us that we dressed well. We will do anything but accept the compliment graciously and allow it to warm us and encourage us from the inside-out like kind and genuine words are supposed to do.

It wasn't until I was willing to see God differently, and I hope, more accurately, that I was able to change that what I believed about myself.

If facebook feeds are any idication of the group-think out there, I'm not alone in my struggle. But I want so badly for us to be free.  This isn't about shaming women into accepting compliments better, either. And this certainly isn't about snuggling up with apathy or becoming besties with fakeness and over-doing it to make it happen. This is about freedom, and it might come slowly and start with something silly and small like red lipgloss but can you imagine how life would change for you if when someone said "You look nice today" your first response was "Thank-you!"-because you believed it was true.

So picture me, in a totally non-creepy way,  gently taking you by the shoulders and looking into your beautiful face - with the dimples you don't like, or your crooked teeth you wish were straight, or your imperfect eyebrows or lack of long eyelashes, and asking you to stop for a minute and remember who you are.

You.  Yes - you!  Have been made in the image of God.  Have we forgotten that God is not a man? Or maybe that's something we've never really been told.  We often refer to God as He and Him, (and that's not wrong) - but the greatest name that God has is not he or she but I AM.  Throughout the bible there are metaphors and stories that paint a picture of who God is and what God does that are not at odds with your femaleness and who you desire to be. 

Creating woman was not some divine afterthought - it is not as though you are some secondary sorting bin where the lesser things of God reside.  You are fully and completely made in the image of God. Single or married, young or old, your emotion, intuition, sensitivity and compassion reflect your creator. You- how you look and who you are-  belong everywhere: in the home, in the marketplace, in our churches.You are needed: up front and behind the scenes, bringing your strengths and abilities wherever you feel drawn and compelled to live and move and have your being within the kingdom of God.  You are not the less-than creation! You are a reflection of the Divine Creator!

Can we talk about our bodies for a moment? Maybe we have an easier time believing that our personalities and character could be reflection of God but I'd like to suggest that this topic so often frought with shame and guilt could be changed with this truth: your very shape is in God's image. 

Whether it's long and lean or soft and round, with curves and softeness and breasts and hips- your body is not something to be fixed or hidden from the world with burkas or baggy tshirts over bathing suits.  Nor is your form meant to be exploited and sold as though your sexuality and "hotness" was the greatest and only thing you had to offer the world.  Far from it!  Your shape is a part of the Image of God reflecting in you.  Celebrate that.  Embrace that.  Feed that. Care for that like you care for those around you.  Embrace your beauty as something God longs to give to the world as a gift.  Let's steward well the image of God within us! 

If you try to become small and hide behind all that you are not, we will miss the incredible gift of who you are. Be loud and proud, contemplative and quiet, reflect beauty in how you listen and love and lead and serve - but for goodness sake- be you, be that incredible image of God you were meant to be.


In the end, I've decided that being worthy of beauty is a far deeper and more freeing concept than simply just looking pretty or having an attractive personality.  It's a transformative inside-out kind of concept that brings grace to the very core of who we are.

You. Are. Worthy. Of. Beauty.  It's written all over your face.  

Saturday, July 26, 2014

What They Aren't, What They Are

I'm not kidding when I say that I am good at making messes.

Often I get quite frustrated with myself and might even get a titch testy with those whom I live under this roofwith when things get into such a state of chaos.  I mean honestly, can't we do anything without having to post a "condemned" sign on the kitchen door before we start again? Messes make me have all the feelings all the time about all the things. 

Also, sometimes I express things in dramatic ways.

My perception always changes, however, when these messes happen because part of my tribe has gathered.

Frustration is replaced with a deep contentment as I walk from room to room and realize that these are really and truly the signs of life and beauty and friendship being lived out together.  

It's been a difficult year in many ways - but there have been streams in this desert, and I have found those living waters always, always come to me by way of relationships. People are God's best invention ever.

So for today these aren't rooms that need to be cleaned, tables that need to be cleared, dishes that need to be washed, leftovers that need to be packaged . They are sacred testaments to conversation that were shared, friendships that are being built, dreams that are being spoken out loud and championed together, relationships being build moment by moment over cups of coffee, buttery scones, bacon and eggs.

These are signs of life and I am so thankful for them.

Sunday, July 6, 2014

A Jam-Making Non-Tutorial

This was originally posted July 2011.  Have I really been blogging this long?  Look at the wittle kiddies in the pictures.  That sound you hear is my heart breaking.  They are all turning into wonderful and smelly teenagers.  It only gets better, honestly.  A lot has changed in those 3 years - but I do happen to have a flat of berries I picked up today that need to be made into jam... Happy Sunday!


I don't know about you, but my house is usually a direct reflection of my brain.

Yesterday, my brain looked a lot like this:

Not pretty - it freaks out my boys, and makes my girl run and hide for calmer, more personal messes in her room.

Things usually get to this state of disarray, well, every 28 days, but I also seem to get a few extra Hurricane Karina's that pass through my house - and it seems to always be just as I'm getting ready for Nathan's birthday.  I'm willing to admit it:  I make messes, but I also can't stand living in chaos, so suffice to say I make a lot of extra work for myself.

It probably happens because it's that time of year where we make the transition from a school-year schedule to a summer schedule. Transitions are good - but they take a few weeks to find that comfortable groove around here.  It may also be because in addition to having two of my kid's birthdays ten days apart in July, the berry season is in full swing, and there is something about the berry/fresh fruit season that revs up my inner hyper-productivity genes like nothing else.

So anyway I have both of the genetic traits of fun and hyper-productivity in spades - and in many ways they live at peace with each, but every so often they create the perfect storm, which always equals a HUGE mess.

The problem with all of these messes and things that get added to my mental (and I mean mental) to-do list, is that they are all things I want to do.  I honestly look at a flat of berries and say "wouldn't it be fun to make jam and pies!", forgetting in that moment that I have to sing at church on the weekend, and have a couple of birthday celebrations that I have to prepare for. Even if I remembered that - the berries are only around for a week or two, and I tend to think of it late in the season, so, busy wins again.

It's a disease, really.

I am getting better - but then there are days like Friday.  It's semi-dangerous getting in the way of Hurricane Karina,  and I'm truly hoping that making fun of myself is the first step to recovery.  I have to believe there is hope, and that one day I will be okay with just doing nothing on a Friday afternoon.

First the title...

I have decided that I am going to use the word "rustic" as often as possible when I describe my activities in the kitchen.

Rustic, if you haven't already figured out, is cook-slang for "lazier".  However, when women all over the world see the word "rustic" they all ooh and ahh and are willing to pay five times the price for something "rustic" whether it's a reject barn-wood shelf, or, in this case - jam.

Also, it's worth noting that while I haven't made jam save for a few times - I always find a way to make it without adding pectin, and do a lower sugar variety.  That's mostly to do with the fact that I never have pectin in the house and when I decide to do something I don't want to wait, plus I'd like to think it's possible to make jam that tastes more like the fruit in it, rather than sugar - so without further adieu, here is:

Rustic Low-Sugar Pectin-Free Strawberry Jam - 
Yield:  8 perfect pints, plus two teaspoons for testing - and maybe a couple for eating right away.

12 cups (ish) hulled strawberries, measure first, mash second - no cutting - it's rustic!
7 apples, blossom and stem ends removed - roughly chopped (including seeds etc)
1 1/2 lemons, roughly chopped (including peel and seeds)
6 cups sugar (I can hardly believe that's low sugar,  but believe me, it is!)
8 pint jars, lids and rings
canning supplies
very large pot... I'm not kidding.

Place apples and lemons in large pot, just cover with water.  Simmer for 20 minutes till nice and soft.  Drain, press through sieve or run through food mill.  Better yet, make one of your kids do it!

Mash the dickens out of the strawberries.  Better yet, make one of your kids do it! (Did I say that already?)

Choose the right kid to help though - or you may find a lot of taste testing happens.  Don't worry - we'll boil all the germs out of it.  Two year old germs are kind of cute, anyway.

Realize that while you could go all day without eating or peeing while fixated on a project, your kids are not the same.  Make them the quickest variation of carbs and cheese you can manage.

You do know it's impossible to make lunch without carbs and cheese, right?

Feel guilty that, in addition to mostly ignoring them for the morning, you are only feeding them carbs and cheese, and make a fruit smoothie to assuage your guilt. That's much better.

Add the strawberries to the strained apple/lemon mixture.  Make sure there is a lot of room in the pot because it will expand and bubble quite a bit.  Boil for 20 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent burning.

At twenty minutes take a heaping teaspoon of glory from the pot and place it on a plate and put in the freezer for 5 minutes.
Hint - set a timer or you WILL forget, because you will start trying to clean your kitchen in that five minutes!

At five minutes run your finger through the blob - if it stays separated well, then it's done, if not keep boiling, stirring and checking till you're happy with it. Mine took about 25 minutes.

Ladle jam into the washed pint jars.  You will have one jar that doesn't need processing in the canner - it can go directly into your fridge.  The other seven will need to be processed so they can last for months!  Wipe the rims clean to ensure a good seal.  Place a lid, that has had the seal properly softened in hot water, on the jar, tighten with ring until finger-tip tight.  Over-tightening can cause jars to break while processing, and that will make you cry.   And it's really gross to clean up.

What?  You don't have a magnetic lid lifter?  It only costs a few dollars, but is worth a million when it comes to canning - run to your nearest Home Hardware and get one now!

Place into canner that is half-full with boiling water, making sure the jars stay upright.

(When canning pints in my quart canner - I don't lift the grate and then drop it in once full - the jars tip & move around too much. So I submerse the grate and carefully place pint jars in the bottom. )

After burning your hands a few times trying to sneak the jars into the bottom of the canner, realize you are not invincible and it's not saving you any time, so start using the jar lifter.

You're welcome.

Place the lid on the canner, bring water back to a boil, and then keep at a rolling boil for 10 minutes.  use the handy dandy magnetic wand to lift the hot handles out of the water, then raise the jars out.  let cool for just a few minutes then place on your counter for 24 hours before you start pressing and poking the tops to see if they actually sealed.

Realize that your house is in such disarray now, you may have an apoplectic fit.  Convince the kids it's in their best interest to help you do a 15 minute shakedown to make the house look better. Whatever doesn't get put away in that time, get's put into a laundry basket to deal with tomorrow.

There.  You feel much better.  AND, you just made jam.