Advent: Waiting

There are seasons when Christmas comes swooping in...bringing with it, goodwill and cookies in the oven and rushed preparations for special worship services and goofy photos of big dogs in little holiday hats...

And then there are seasons when Christmas comes trodding in...bringing with it hesitation and a bit of heaviness and unfinished projects and when by the 9th, we feel lucky to have ornaments on the tree because we're too tired to do much else...

That has been this season.  A season of bitter cold.  And taking other peoples grief and making it my own. A season of bareness and even bleakness.  And disorientation. A season of "lasts" and final breaths and an underlying anxiety that can neither be tamed nor defined.

I suppose that's okay.  It's certainly not preferential. But it's okay.

Because this season will pass.  As they do. And there will be new life that will shoot out of this charred stump of time.  And really, that's what we hope for each Christmas.  We hope that the promises of God mean something.  And that God's constant task of recreation will include us.  And that this new Presence will inspire that still, small spark that lies a bit dormant in this moment...

And we hope that the journey isn't done.  That joy and peace and love remain. 

'Tis the season...

Wednesday Weeding: Church Love

My phone has become my permanent camera.

It hasn't always been that way. I used to have a fairly decent camera, which Brett won, and dutifully handed over to me.

Then we went to Colorado.
I took 10,000 pictures of the place where God lives (the mountains).
Came home depressed but glad to have captured a bit of the Divine on digital film. 
Only to lose all but 15 photos somewhere between plugging my camera in to the computer and bringing up the photo folder. 
It was not my best moment. 
There was serious gnashing of teeth.  And a few choice words.  And wailing.  And blaming.  Even though Brett was at work when this all transpired.

Like I said...not my best moment.

So since then, I've stuck with my phone. 

Anyone with an iPhone, knows you won't be Dorothea Lange or Ansel Adams...but I figure, you put a fancy Istagram filter in my hands...I'm gonna be satisfied and feel pretty dang fancy while I'm messin' with those little magic buttons.

So, I have loads of photos on my camera and no where to put them.  (Though as a sidenote, I've had good luck with PostalPix, when it comes to printing out Instagram and phone photos, in case anyone is interested.)

Time for some Wednesday Weeding.

Boom.



1. ...and to dust you shall return.  2. ...if you love me, feed my sheep.
3. ...poured out for you.  4. ...a hen gathers her chicks...
5. ...how sweet are your words to my taste... 6. ...let light shine out of darkness.

Joy: An Advent Thought

In eight short days, Jesus will come into the real world.  Not under a beautifully lit manger scene with new hay and a warm bath to welcome him.  But to a dingy barn, with the smell of lanolin and poop to welcome his new nose, while a servant-class young mother and a manual laborer of a father will wrestle with first-time parenthood.  That baby will preach and no one will listen, love and will be chastised.  That baby will speak when others are silent, act when it is not in his best self-interest, and will pray when there are no other words.  That baby will shelter the dead and will comfort the heart-sick, will cry out for the victims, and will weep when any of us are broken.  Is it possible that this is our joy?  Must our joy come from the least of these?  The most broken of these? 

For MM: The Rest of the Story

There are a few things that shouldn't be hanging out in the world, alone. 

Like fried bread...without the cheese.
Or Burt...without Ernie.
Salt and no pepper.
Ketchup without its mustard.

And it was clearly an oversight, to not include the shepherd.  With the sheep. 

So here's the whole set... together at last.

Peace: An Advent Thought

It’s bigger than us, you know.  Peace. 

But it begins with us. 

It begins when we breath in the breath of God and cease the hand waving and the frenzied checklist of expectations and instead, extend our hands in an embrace and trade our checklists, our itemized "my-language," for dialogue grounded in hope, so that it becomes "other-language." 

Peace begins when we can recognize that we have “enough.”  Enough food, enough stuff, enough love, enough faith and in turn, respond when we encounter those who do not know what it means to have enough. 

Peace begins when we recognize the value of another…the value of God’s creation, made in the image of God…and respond with fewer frowns and eye rolls or snapped fingers or harsh words and instead with compassion and encouragement and love as we work – as we have been called to – as instruments of peace.

It's certainly easier said than done...maybe even especially during this time of year.  When breathing in the breath of God reminds us of how tight our chest is, how heavy the heart can be, and how high our shoulders have ascended. 

And so I pray this day, that peace might be yours...that it might fill the heart in ways that are consuming, so that you might share it with another, in ways that are life-giving.

Day 2: Decorations

I'm a day or two late, because despite the longer-than-normal time between Thanksgiving and Christmas Day, I'm just now starting to get the actual decorations put out and around the house.  We go a little Christmas-Crazy when it comes to decorations. 

I'm probably making up for my parents, who last put up a tree, in '02. 

It's hard to choose just one decoration...so here are a few of my favorites, but by no means, is it exhaustive.


I wish you could see how long this snowman's arms are!
They make me smile each and every time I walk
by them!  And...he's sparkly and handsome.  He's
like the Brad Pitt of snowpeople. And he's all mine!




This is the sheep-half of the "and the shepherds kept watch over
their sheep" duo.  As made and finished by my husband, Brett. 
We were living in the armpit of Texas at the time, purely
miserable, and frighteningly poor...and we'd given each other a
limit of $10 for Christmas gifts that year.  I think I
bought him a flashlight.  But he made me this nativity
set out of scrap wood that he'd found in the backyard when
we'd moved in...it sits at the fireplace and each year,
no matter where we're at in our relationship or how distressed
I am, I remember that moment and how grateful
I am that he's my husband.




I never knew my Grandfather - my Mother's dad - but
the story goes that when my Grandma and my Grandfather
bought their first television, he insisted on having this
duck-lamp to go on top of the t.v. (apparently, this was a
trend) or it was "no sale."  So each year, The Duck gets
dressed up with a bow and a Santa hat...
and even though I don't have
any idea who my Grandfather was or what his laugh sounded
like or how he smelled or what he was passionate about...
I feel a little connected to him - and my Grandma - each
time I see that duck (who now, lives next to our television).

































These sheep...how can you not smile, when you see these guys!
We've had them for years, and I guess I used to always figure
if we ever had a kid, we'd hide them around the house
"Elf on a Shelf" style...but now they just sit there and beckon
joy with their sweet smiles and lazy, swinging legs.  Much
like, I suppose, how I'd like to beckon the holidays.



Hope: An Advent Thought

Hope.

It's such an easy word to say.

"I hope Santa can find me!"
"I hope I get a car!" 
"I hope I get asked to the prom." 
"I hope I don't get caught." 
"I hope I can find a job." 
"I hope you'll love me even when it's not easy." 
"I hope she doesn't die before I get the chance to say goodbye."
"I hope we have macaroni and cheese."
"I hope we can pay for it."
"I hope you know how much I love you."
"I hope..."

I say it a dozen times a day. So much so, that maybe it loses its meaning? 

But during this season of Advent, that word...hope...takes on a different, special, nearly tangible meaning.  It's as if it might sprout wings any minute and show the world how to fly.  It bids us to take deep breaths and yearn for the unexpected.  It calls us to Emmanuel - God With Us - and in that calling, expects us to be the embodiment of the holy, for another.  It ceases our weeping and gives us pause in our pain, so that we might touch wonder, if only for a brief second.

Hope. 

It's a big task.  A hefty word.  A delicate scent.  An overwhelming gift.

I hope you sense it this day....

Doing This: Since I've Got Nothing Else To Do

So, Pinterest has beckoned and I've decided to do this...

Yeah.  Yeah.  It's a challenge from 2011, but I've never been super hip.  So let's call this "typical" and move on.

I think it might be fun and give me a little something to do.  Otherwise.  Just bored to tears over here.  Tears, I tell ya.

Excuse me while I go change my shirt.  It seems I have broken out into a cold Advent sweat....

A Little Preachy: Bathsheba

On Sunday, I'll be supply preaching for this little church up North.

Normally, when I supply preach, I prepare a fairly innocuous sermon...you know, wherein I'll mention repeatedly, the words love, peace, and hope.  I'll speak to Jesus' command to serve and be served and at the end of the morning, I'll pray... pray that each might be surprised by God, emboldened by God , and filled by God that week.  I do this, mostly because (generally), I don't know the congregation -- I don't know their story or their joys or their sorrows or their fears...so I figure it never hurts to hear that God is present and that God loves you.  But I also do this, because it's an easy message to bring.  Let's face it...it's a rare day, when someone gets up and walks out, because you said, "no matter what, God loves you."

But, I thought maybe I'd mix it up a bit.  So, this Sunday, I'll be preaching from 2 Samuel 11:1-15.  I'll give you a moment to look it up.   


By Ernst Fuchs; I am struck deeply,
by David's tear as he kisses Bathsheba.

                                              





















I figure if you can't talk about lust, adultery, sex, manipulation, corruption, trickery, pregnancy, and murder from the pulpit....what CAN you talk about?  Amiright?  

Besides.  The "love of God" is getting boring.  

(Please, oh please, note the sarcasm.)

The Athlete: In Training

Every now and then, my Mother will get it in her head, that she'd like to compete in some sort of sporting event... and believing me to be an athlete, she will often drag me along.

A few days ago, she announced that she'd like to do a "team triathlon" with my Aunt, who would round out our trusty trio.

My Aunt has a pool, so it made sense that she would and could, take care of the swimming portion of our triathlon.  So that left running and cycling up for grabs.  The conversation, via text, went something like this:

Mom: Do you want to run or bike?
Me: I really like to sit.  I'm choosing the bike.
Mom: Do you know how long each leg is?

Well, do you?  I do.  And it's not pretty.  The swimming leg, is one mile.  We figured it out, and my Aunt will have to swim the length of her pool, 97 times.  I say, good luck with that.  The running portion is a 10k... my Mother has done a few 5k's in her life and I think she can probably handle this with ease, given some training and time. The cycling... well, the cycling is TWENTY FIVE miles.  So...

Today, I pulled my bike out for the first time in seven years. 

I rode one mile.

In seven minutes.

And very nearly threw up.

This should go well.

A New Venture: Just One Bite

So, "way back when," I mentioned that I had a new idea brewing...one that didn't involve pumpkin but promised to require loads of sugar and moderate amounts of freaking out. 

The freak out stage is nearly complete... and the sugar is here to stay.  I give you my latest venture:

justonebite.yolasite.com

Tonight I take my product to the greater public...starting with the Belton Farmers Market. Yep.  I'm hittin' the big time. 

The Famous: Depp vs. Thirdstory(ies)

So several years ago... when Pirates of the Caribbean wasn't an overworked, money making franchise, and simply one single, awesome movie... Brett and I and a whole gaggle of youth from the church we served, went to a red carpet event for the flick.  We hadn't actually intended to be at the red carpet... we really just wanted to go to Disney Land...but sometimes, Brett's incessant need to be as UNinformed as possible, has a few benefits.  Like showing up to meet Mickey Mouse, and instead, meeting Johnny Depp.  Yep.  You read that correctly.  I met Johnny Depp.

Other "stars" were there too... Danny Bonaduce, Teri Hatcher, Rachel Hunter, Jane Seymour, Lea Thompson, John Stamos... Brett's favorite, Kenny G... and the man who's inspired a thousand memes... David Hasselhoff.  And of course, Keira Knightly is just as beautiful in person as she is in movies.  Orlando Bloom is pretty beautiful too. 

But the clouds parted when Johnny came toward us and stopped, not even two steps from where we stood.   Quivering with excitement behind the burlap rope meant to separate the famous and the not famous, while holding my husbands hand, I jumped up and down, and yelled as loud as humanly possible, "Oh my gosh Johnny!!  I love you!  I love you so much!!"

Then I composed myself, gracefully readjusted my Mickey Mouse ears, and gave a little shout out to God for the husband who loves me...despite me.

And today... I'd like to share a similar sentiment about a friend... who's walking her own little red carpet as we speak: she has been nominated for a Homie.  A what?  Yeah.  A Homie (via Apartment Therapy).

I know.  It's overwhelming for her as well. 

Maybe not Johnny Depp overwhelming... but we can't all have that sultry, bad boy look that makes a gal swoon.

But I'd like to see her win.  Mainly for the big bucks she'll make.  Fifty big ones in the ol' pocket.  But also because sometimes you write and you write... and really, you write for yourself... but I don't know of a single person, who doesn't like to know that what they've written, has mattered (yes... that would be the preacher in me, talking).  So let her know that it's mattered.  That the hours in front of the computer, the countless photos that have been taken and uploaded, the rewrites and the spell checks, the heartfelt words... that they all mattered.  Or at the very least, made you smile or think or gave you an idea....

You can vote for her blog here or here, after checking it out of course, here.

"Oh my gosh ThirdStory(ies)!!  I love you! I love you so much!!"

Versatile: Dried Figs

So two things have happened in the last few days.

1. I was given a pumpkin. And...
2. I was given 24 pounds of dried figs.

Yep. Just another average day in October....

I've been asked to "do something" with the bags of figs that our county food bank was given... and by "bags of figs"... I mean ONE THOUSAND, one pound bags of the dried little suckers. That's a lot of figs... for those of you who are quick with your math. A lot. 

And you know, it's common knowledge that every food-scarce person and their family, craves figs.  Duh.

There's enough raisin-hate in the world... I can image Cousin to the Raisin, the Dried Fig, knows it's fair share of bad jokes and witty limericks.  Let's face it... the FIG is a pretty ambiguous fruit for your average mid-westerner. Is it a raisin?  Is it a date?  It doesn't look like Brad Pitt. 

Oh.  But wait... there's a handy Nutritional Information sheet included.  Using a font, that makes it look like our wedding invitation from ten years ago.  Apparently, if you make it pretty enough... no one will wonder why... as a family that struggles to put bread and milk on their table... they were given a very usable and wildly versatile bag of figs.  

Anyway, if anyone's got any really good ideas for using large amounts of dried figs... I'd love to hear them. 

It needs to be a recipe using basic "food pantry" ingredients, with the recognition that some of the folks coming to the pantry don't have electricity for oven use, may not have running water, or access to things like milk and eggs.  I'm considering a carrot and fig salad, maybe a no-bake cookie of some sort..........  Ideas?  Anyone?

A Funny: National Tell A Joke Day

Today is National Tell A Joke Day.  Who knew?

So here's a pumpkin joke:

Q: What do you use to mend a broken jack-o-lantern?

A: A pumpkin patch.

Speaking of "a pumpkin patch"... Brett's church will get their pumpkins on October 15!  Which we all know, is RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER! 

Okay... one more:

Q: What's black, white, orange and waddles?

A: A penguin holding a pumpkin.

Have a funny day! 

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry.  This is what I get for... working.

It's highly over-rated.

Someday, I'll post a few things I've got in the works... 'till then... work well, sleep a good nine hours a night, and enjoy a little sun for me!

A Good Joke: Easter

Q: What do you call a line of rabbits who are walking backwards?

Hint:

A: A receding hairline.

Happy Easter! 

May it be filled with grace, laughter, and moments of ressurection that will surprise you...

Note: No feelings were hurt in the making of this post.  Above hairline subject, and butt of minor joke, was a willing participant after a bit of arm twisting.

Home: Canning Dreams

So last weekend was a gorgeous, 70 degree, Saturday.

You know the kind...babies laughing, children riding their bikes, gardens being planned with hope and expectation, lunches being made and consumed outdoors...

...neighbors, pulling down their pants and urinating in plain view.

I'm not exactly sure why my neighbor couldn't walk five feet into his house to relieve himself...but I'm sure his reply, had I said something, would have been along the lines of "it's my dang property, I can do what I want."

I make that assumption, only because a few hours later on this same delightful, promise-filled day, my husband was outside playing with our dogs... and the neighbor's teenager, hit him with a BB (thankfully, said BB, hit the visor of his hat, and not his eyeball). And the neighbors kid responded along the lines of "it's my dang gun, I can do what I want."  Spoken like any good ol', red blooded, American...

So you know...obviously...summer is in the air.

And it got me thinkin' about retiring the pumpkin for a bit and pulling out the canning supplies again...

So, I thought a little preview might be in order! Here's what I've got planned for Spring and early Summer:

Strawberry Jam; how can I not?

Strawberry and Lavender Jam; home grown lavender is sure to invoke memories of Lyon...

Strawberry Jam with Thai Herbs; think cilantro, ripe berries, sugar, and balsamic vinegar...can't help but drool a little.

Strawberry Butter; hubba hubba

Rhubarb Something or Other; I've been a little fixated on growing rhubarb...but it takes two years to establish and I believe I've mentioned once or twice before, how patience is not my virtue...so this will likely be based on what I can find at the City Market.

Pickled Asparagus; we'll see.

Carrot Pickles; apparently, all the rage in San Francisco. Who knew?

Anyway. That was the dream...until today.

Now the dream has morphed into visions of ice scrapers and earmuffs. But at least I can rest assured that my neighbor will relieve himself indoors...

Dangit.

Merry Christmas!

Happy Thanksgiving!!

Blessings to you, this Thanksgiving Day.

I am immensely thankful for...

...my husband, parents, and family, who make me whole. And make me laugh.  Who taught me to see humour in the world, but also taught me to question and change the world.
...friends who don't give up on you, power through reading your blog (!), and will tell you when you've got something in your teeth.
...the daily use of the word, "enough."
...that others thought it worthwhile, to teach me how to read and write and balance my checkbook. 
...the limited readership of this blog, which ensures that my high school English teacher doesn't happen upon the last sentence (or any post, for that matter) and admonish me for using "and" one hundred times.
...the fact that I have such abundance in my life, that I can afford to "play" with food.
...for clean water, a heated home, and clothes on my back.
...for people who would care, if suddenly, I was without any of those three things.
...for my dogs and my bunny, who bring joy beyond words.
...for unmeasurable grace and a God who loves us fully and wholly.

Blessings to you all, on this day of Thanksgiving.  May you know hope, laughter, and full bellies (but know when you're done)!

Ear Full Of Pumpkin: A Puree Recap Rap

Here's a recap rap

For the fans with orange tans

In the south burbs of Kans-

Aaaaaa-city
Where the dogs are pretty

And the boys are fine

Where pumpkins are sorted

On a table, in a line

I've got my ice cream scoop

Come on, join the the loop

Cause it's time to gather

Around the oven l[a]ver

Set that sucker to three hundred fifty

Take off the stems, cause yeah, yo nifty

Cut 'em in half and scoop out the middle

The way it feels'll make you giggle

Be real, be hip

Find a sheet with a lip

And grab a cup or two of water

Say bye to your daughter
Give your partner a holler
Cause by the time you're done
This won't be fun,
I can guarantee ya

In the pan you will put
About a cup per cubic foot
Line the pumpkins up
Face down.  (pause) Yup.

Throw them in the oven
Get yourself some lovin'
Call your cousin
Eat a cookie,
How about a half a dozen

Check on the pumpkins half way through
You've got problems, if they're blue
They oughta be deep orange in hue
And when they are, that's your cue

This process seems long
But it beats singing a song
Or even writing this rap
As a matter of fact

After 45 minutes to an hour
Muster within, your girly power
Pull the pan out with both hands
Wonder again, how you feel about Iran's

1930's name change from Persia,
Did it lack courage-ya?
Anyway, I digress
Let's get back to this pumpkin game of chess.

Using your will and a set of tongs
Flip each pumpkin over where it belongs
They'll be steamy and dreamy
and look just right,
But I assure you, they're so hot that they bite.

Let them sit on the counter to cool
while you start the next batch, like a big ol' fool.
The clock will keep ticking
But you did the picking

So with a smile and a knife
Remember fondly, your old life
And get back to work
As your husband smirks

When your pumpkins have cooled just a bit
Take each one and give it a lift
Squeeze out the goodness into a bowl
Yeah, that's right!  Now you're on a roll!

Compost, recycle and throw away
Cause now it's time to play

Using a hand beater and a little fear

Beat that pumpkin, 'TILL IT'S IN YO EAR!

Now, if this rap is making you queasy

Just click here.

There.  That was easy.

I apologize for this mess

But with a title like that

Hi.  You had to have guessed.