My Journey & Story – Page 8 – Backdoor Hospitality

Pumpkin Pecan Scones

Today at church service was the first day that I didn’t have either of my girls with me from start to finish. It was nice to be able to worship and take in those precious moments of simply being. Our church family is going through I Corinthians right now. Our teaching pastor, Jim, spoke about the crux in the Corinthians lives. He was relating it to his mountain climbing experience; with the crux being the challenge/obstacle in the climb to get over.

This central idea of the crux was woven throughout the message, and eventually got me asking, “What is the crux in my life’s journey? What is the crux in my journey via mothering…via marriage…via my growing up family?” Sometimes the crux is only there for a season in our lives and it strengthens us for future cruxes, which are five times larger. Other times the crux is something that keeps getting brought up. In those instances, maybe the crux keeps coming up because we truly haven’t dealt with it.

Just in the mountain climbing scenario, the crux is only truly conquered when we deal with it head on. We cannot ignore it, climb around, or sit beneath it; rather, we need to do the hard work and climb over it. I believe the best part about this is how Jesus is waiting for us to ask for his help. (He’s only going to help when I ask for it. He never forces himself on me) The same is true for friends & family helping us get over the crux; but, only when we ask for their help.

One of my cruxes is being too helpful when people are hurting, but they’re not willing to change. I take on more than I should bear and it slowly destroys me (something I am trying to climb over). It’s learning to set up boundaries, knowing when to say no, and stripping off the Savior complex (not an easy task). But I’m hopeful! And with that, these yummy scones are an easy way to be helpful to anyone you meet without taking on more than you should bear (except eating a few too many).

Pumpkin Pecan Scones (printable recipe)

I was looking to create a scone recipe based on a wonderful pumpkin cookie I made from here. Now if you’re one of those people who is impartial to Starbuck’s Pumpkin Scones than you need to make these. Because these ones will knock your socks off and the Starbucks version will be a distant memory, while you’ll be having a “define the relationship” with these pumpkin scones.

Ingredients:

2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

2 cups whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 cup sugar (I use unrefined)

1 tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg (I seriously believe freshly grated makes a difference, but you could use the ground nutmeg from the store)

1/8 teaspoon ground cloves

1 1/2 cups (3 sticks) chilled unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch cubes

1 cup buttermilk (extra for brushing the tops of the scone prior to baking)

1 cup pumpkin puree (I used my own pumpkin puree, because that’s what I do, but I understand not everyone has this fetish, so buy canned pumpkin)

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup toasted & chopped pecans (plus some additional for topping, totally optional)

turbinado sugar for sprinkling

frosting recipe below

Preheat oven to 350. Dump both flours, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt, and all of the spices into a food processor. Process for 30 seconds (this will sift it, aerate it and incorporate all the ingredients). Dump the butter on top and pulse (for 1-2 second intervals) about 8-10 times. Dump contents into a large bowl & set aside.

Combine buttermilk, egg, pumpkin puree, & vanilla in a small bowl or mixing cup. With the dry ingredients, make a hole in the middle and pour wet ingredients into the hole. Stir with a wooden spoon or spatula just till the wet & dry ingredients have been combined. You don’t want to over mix, because you’re aiming for a biscuit texture (which requires visible pieces of butter). Then, add the chopped pecans and combine with your hands (because that’s what they’re here for), once again being delicate with the dough. The dough should be a bit sticky, which is okay.

Separate the dough in half. Sprinkle flour on a flat surface and form one of the halves into a circle. I don’t use a rolling pin, but use my hands to shape the dough into a circle measuring about 1/2 inch high and 6-8 inches round (really you’re aiming more for the 1/2 inch height and the diameter is merely a gauge). Cut into 8 pieces. Repeat process with the other half.

Put a sheet of parchment paper on baking sheet. Place the scones on top. Brush with buttermilk & sprinkle with turbinado sugar. Bake for 20-25 minutes. **Make frosting after your scones are baked, because the frosting has little window in terms of pliability/workability.** Top with frosting/icing & a pecan (or a some chopped pecans). Serve with some coffee.

Frosting

3 tablespoons butter

1/2 cup packed brown sugar

4 teaspoons milk (I used whole milk)

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 cup powdered sugar

Combine butter, brown sugar, milk, & vanilla in saucepan over medium heat. Cook long enough to melt butter and sugar dissolves. Take off heat. Add powdered sugar and mix to combine till smooth. Use immediately by spreading on top of scones.

Day One & Two

Chicken pot pie–comfort food!

Today was my first day of my cooking class. It was so relaxing to be able to learn & do something I thoroughly enjoy without two little ones at my feet. The majority of my cooking & baking knowledge is through trial & error and being self-taught via books. (I did take three years of home economics in junior high). I wasn’t fortunate enough to glean too much experience in the kitchen from my parents or grandparents either, which makes this ‘culinary intensive class’ a suitable fit for me.

So like I said in my last post about not being a novice in the kitchen, I’m finding that taking this three-day class is the best way for me to get hands on experience, knowledge, & visual teaching that I would otherwise not get. When looking at a cookbook there are so many classic dishes that I would love to make (or even learning classic techniques) & learn in a classroom setting. Now we didn’t make any demi-glace (which is what I would have loved to do), but we did break down a whole chicken to all it’s specific pieces (learning the different cuts, breaking points, and separating the thigh bone out of the thigh meat), and how much more cost effective it is to buy a whole chicken than simply buy chicken breasts, thighs, or drumsticks individually cut. Plus, there is something so empowering about doing it yourself. I highly recommend it. Actually, I’m going to buy a boning knife soon, along with a whole chicken simply to do it (yes I’m a nerd).

Brussel Sprouts with diced onions & pancetta

We also worked on making our own vinaigrette. Basically in making your own vinaigrette you want a 3:1 ratio of oil to acid (unless it’s something like lemon juice where you want equal parts), along with other parts (i.e. salt, pepper, dijon, etc). We made a lot of different food, which were shared in a communal dinner. It’s been really wonderful–truly truly.

Fried chicken with a buttermilk crust & seasoned flour

Today we made a chicken stock, brussel sprouts with pancetta, a carrot orange soup (ethereal), buttermilk biscuits, fried chicken, chicken pot pie, apple tatin, & drank a nice pale ale to top it off (and the sous chef made a devil’s cake with chocolate ganache). I’ll post some recipes for them later once I get my notes organized. And it’s not 10:00 at night. Tomorrow is my last day, but it’s been absolutely wonderful.

so I honestly felt this looked more deceiving than it tasted. I’m a chocolate person normally, but this apple tatin did it for me, especially with the vanilla ice cream accompaniment.

Devil’s chocolate cake with chocolate ganache

Summer Peach, Fall Apple, Hybrid Plum Jam

It’s a beautiful last day of summer with the projected forecast to hit a high of 79. Seems fitting to end summer on a warmer note. And although Autumn is my beloved of seasons (no doubt I pine for it’s arrival not long after it ends), the refreshment & excitement which summer sows is like that of a peach.

The other day while in the kitchen Ben said, “Wouldn’t you say that a nectarine or peach are the ultimate fruit?”

Me: “Yeah I would!”

Ben: (almost in a daze about it), “I mean, apples & bananas are good, but I could live without ’em.”

Me: “Yeah!”

Ben: “But a nectarine or a peach, I could eat those all the time. They’re juicy, sweet, and rarely disappoint.”

Me: “yeah I completely agree.”

Summer is peaches. It’s true, they rarely disappoint. They can quench both a thirst and a hunger inside. And there are so many things about Autumn that beat out summer in mind, but the fall apple doesn’t have anything on the summer peach. And as I was drinking a glass of water, clear, clean water, I paused and said, “Thank you God for this clean water that I take for granted! People in places like Haiti are without this simplest of gifts that I rarely rejoice in.”

And as I was thanking God for this simplest of gifts, it got me thinking about the ending of Summer and how I can steamroll ahead into Autumn, without a glimpse of a grateful heart for the summer. How I can tend to focus so much on the big picture, or my agenda, or who I want to become, or my goals, that I forget to delight in the little details of God’s goodness. Like my youngest clapping her hands for the first time, for oldest staying calm in the midst of struggling to put on her underwear, or the smell of fresh plum jam cooking on the stove top. It’s as my oldest says, “Gummies today the Lord has made?” Living in today, because the Lord has made it and delighting in it fully.

So as I breathe in the last of summer, so it only seems fitting to make a batch of plum jam. Thanks to my friend Megan who had an exploding Italian plum tree in their yard.

Plum Jam

It’s a hybrid not because it comes from a hybrid plum tree, but it’s a hybrid of two seasons colliding. This recipe is from the magazine Food & Wine, which can be found here. Note that when it says to squeeze the lemon over the plums, you are then suppose to add the squeezed lemon in with the mixture (as seen in my pics).

Plums sitting in sugar for an hour.

Cooking jam with half of lemon on top.

Wonderful afternoon snack, only thing missing is a cup of tea.

Some Redemptive Love & Sour Lemon Scones

While I was doing an internship with a college ministry called UCM a couple years back, I went with my fellow interns to the house of Dr. James Houston. He is the founder of Regent College and is from the UK. He is a wealth of knowledge, wisdom & insight. He is full of grace, hospitality and a breath of fresh air.

The UCM director would take the interns every year to Dr. Houston’s house to simply glean from his years of living with God. We were welcomed into his home with scones, breads, jam & tea. His wife Rita (who is Scottish, so don’t happen to ask her if she’s from England, because she’ll definitely put in her two cents on the subject) busily made the lunch while we were in the living room listening & asking questions.

Now, when one becomes an intern it isn’t uncommon to know of the specialness of visiting the Houston home. I can recall former interns stories of Dr. Houston speaking prophetic words into their lives and of Rita’s wit & hospitality. You expected that he would speak a special word to you personally and walk away holding a gem. You also knew that Rita would shower you with hospitality. Both of which made me very excited to be apart of this day. However, our intern day was a bit different. In fact, it was so different that he didn’t really speak a prophetic word to anyone, except me.

He spoke of a myriad of things from Romanticism to the Psalter to real spirituality. There was a key moment in the morning while he was talking about our ministries failing when we peg them as our own. And as he was talking I asked him a question. You know, I don’t remember what question I asked him or even remember completely what he was talking about. I do remember that I was genuinely seeking an answer to this question. I remember wrestling with the idea of ministry and church and how that all looked. Through my questions & his answers two things happened.

One was this deep penetration of his eyes locked on mine. It was probably one of the most powerful moments I’ve experienced. He knew I was struggling and wrestling, so as he answered me…it was as though everyone else in his living room disappeared and I was the only one he was tending. He was showing me hospitality at that moment. He was unveiling a glimpse of what it meant to be present to not only your guest, but the person made in Christ’s likeness sitting before him. I felt completely loved and cared for by his attentiveness to me and my earnest heart.

Second, was what came from our question & answer. I believe he asked me what I did with UCM, which I replied that I oversaw Evangitality, which is the hospitality ministry and expanded a bit about what we did and my vision for the students (meaning opening up ourselves & our stuff to anyone we encounter, in order that they would know they are a valued person of the Most High; as well as, giving them a hope).

He then had this, “AHHH” sort of expression and said something to the effect, “Well, you must have come from a home that was immersed in love, parents married…” Of course, my answer was,”No, actually it wasn’t, my parents are divorced and it was hectic at times.” Then, he said, “Oh (pause), well then, (with a look of reassurance) it’s a re-DEM-ptive love, isn’t it! It’s like Samson reaching his hand into the carcass of the lion pulling out sweet honey.” With that he left his eyes locked on mine as to give me a sense of my worth and out of a horrible beast of a past, God can still redeem it for sweet, nourishing ending.

That day I walked away feeling nourished by his hospitality, because although his wife was busily making the meal and too many times in our world (Christian and non) we associate the food with hospitality. But the problem with that is I was not so much nourished by the food, grateful yes, but by the care, counsel and genuine love I was shown by Dr. Houston. I saw a glimpse of God that day, through his act of loving this downtrodden 26 year old. He spoke God’s words upon me, “You’re my redeemed!” What a beautiful, glorious jewel to behold. So as I try to intertwine food with lovingkindness, (which is hospitality to the nth power) here are some delicious scones to share with a friend or a stranger as you give them a glimpse of God’s heart for them.

Sour Lemon Scones (printable recipe)

Adapted from Baked. I have made some minor changes, as I’m always experimenting to see if I can add whole wheat flour. And I must say that everyone at playgroup said these were great. As my friend Biz said, “they were better than bakery-awesome!” The whole wheat pastry flour makes a softer crumb, so these scones are not as biscuity in texture, but still very good.

Ingredients:

4 cups whole wheat pastry flour

1/2 cup rapadura sugar

1 Tablespoon baking powder

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

1/2 teaspoon ginger

1 1/2 cups unsalted butter, cubed & cold

1 large egg

1 cup buttermilk

1/4 cup grated lemon zest (from about 3 lemons)

1 teaspoon lemon extract (use the kind that is the real lemon essence, not artificial)

2 Tablespoons raw sugar

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, combine flours, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and ginger. Whisk until combined. Add the butter. **The recipe says: “Use your fingertips to rub the butter into the flour until the butter is pea-sized.” However, I use my kitchen aid and mix to the same consistency and see no problem.

In a separate bowl, whisk together the egg, 3/4 cup of the buttermilk, and the lemon zest. Slowly pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients, and then gently knead the dough with your hands until the dough starts to come together. Move the dough to a lightly floured surface. Use your hands to shape the dough into two discs (about 1 1/2 inches in height). Do not overwork the dough.

Put the discs on the parchment lined pan. Make a 1/8 inch indentation to make 6 wedges, but do not cut all the way through. Brush each scone with the remaining buttermilk and sprinkle with raw sugar. Bake in the center of the oven for about 25 to 30 minutes (rotating the baking sheet halfway through the baking time) or until the scones are golden brown.

Transfer the scones to a cooling rack; they can be served slightly warm or completely cooled. Optional top with glaze below.

Scones can be stored in an airtight container for up to 2 days.

Lemon Glaze:

1 cup powdered sugar

squeeze juice from half to 3/4 of a fresh lemon

Mix all the ingredients in a small bowl. You should come out with a not too thick and not too thin glaze that will be great for putting on top of your cooled (or slightly warmed scones, if you’re like me and trying to hurry out the door to playgroup).

Rootbeer Cake & Comfort

I have been thinking lately about Sabbath. Some of this is due to being asked to give a talk to a group of college students about the Sabbath. I’ve been reading, listening & meditating upon what Scripture and various authors/speaker have said about the topic.

There’s a lot to be said about this exhaustive topic, but I think the best way of understanding so far has been to do. I have to insert that I have practiced a Sabbath for a while, but I don’t think it’s been very intentional or thoughtful. Yesterday was one of the firsts. We as a family started our day of rest on Saturday night. On Sunday morning I sang on the worship team, which was wonderful to be able to walk into practice (then the services) feeling a sense of security and rest in my Lord like never before.

It was also great to come home to a house full of toys strewn around the floor, dirty dishes whispering, “clean me,” and a cell phone & computer left cold, because I was invited to rest in the midst of disarray. I was invited to lay aside my worries of what would come the next day, because all I had to think about was knowing my Lord, my Papa God would carry me through to Monday. I was resting in the rhythms of His unfettering grace & mercy, as we lay on the park grass watching our oldest find courage & strength in her ability to climb a once unknown rock wall. All I had to do was lavish in the invitation to rest.

In the busyness of our lives and our culture, we’re taught to only slow down when we take a vacation, or when we get sick. But why wait for a vacation that only comes a couple times a year to rest? Why wait for a sweeping of the stomach flu to rest? Yesterday was like my vacation a couple weeks back, where a sense of abandonment flew over the lake and up into the air. The sun caught hold of it as it poured down upon my body to invigorate me; while, the lake sucked it up and restored me as I swam through it. In the evening, it came through us feasting on good food and laughing. Sabbath, it’s a slice of Earth redeemed.

Rootbeer Cake (printable recipe)

This recipe is from Baked cookbook and I baked mine in two small pans. Since we were at Ben’s grandparents cabin, I used what was available. One gelatin pan and one small angel cake pan, but it worked out quite well. Plus, they were deliciously moist.

Ingredients for Cake:

2 cups root beer (not diet)
1 cup dark unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, cut into 1-inch pieces
1 1/4 cups granulated sugar
1/2 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 large eggs

For the Root Beer Fudge Frosting:

2 ounces dark chocolate (60% cacao), melted and cooled slightly
1/2 cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup root beer
2/3 cup dark unsweetened cocoa powder
2 1/2 cups confectioners’ sugar

To Serve: Vanilla ice cream

Make the Root Beer Bundt Cake: Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F. Generously spray the inside of a 10-inch bundt pan with nonstick cooking spray; alternatively, butter it, dust with flour, and knock out the excess flour.

In a small saucepan, heat the root beer, cocoa powder, and butter over medium heat until the butter is melted. Add the sugars and whisk until dissolved. Remove from the heat and let cool.

In a large bowl, whisk the flour, baking soda, and salt together. In a small bowl, whisk the eggs until just beaten, then whisk them into the cooled cocoa mixture until combined. Gently fold the flour mixture into the cocoa mixture. The batter will be slightly lumpy–do not overbeat, as it could cause the cake to be tough. Pour the batter into the prepared pan and bake for 35 to 40 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through the baking time, until a small sharp knife inserted into the cake comes out clean. Transfer the pan to a wire rack to cool completely. Gently loosen the sides of the cake from the pan and turn it out onto the rack.

Make the Root Beer Fudge Frosting: Put all the ingredients in a food processor. Pulse in short bursts utnil the frosting is shiny and smooth. Use a spatula to spread the fudge frosting over the crown of the bundt in a thick layer. Let the frosting set before serving, with the ice cream on the side.

My Soul Finds Rest

scellicks41

Have you ever walked through a trial wondering if you could make it through to the other side? It feels as though you’re swimming in the ocean sea and you’re barely able to keep your head a float. It’s the feeling of pure hopelessness. Your heart is wretched right from you. You can barely breath. When you finally muster some words up, all that comes out are tears. Or when there aren’t tears, there is anguish, anger & pain.

Recently my family has gone through this sort of wretched pain. The kind that makes you wallow with those deep guteral sobs of relentless agony type of pain. And then the things in which normally give me solace, like cooking, talking, coffee, reading, or writing, barely scratch the surface of healing the wound.

Then, I think about hospitality and I think of all the four letter curse words I want to yell out at people who complain about how their technology isn’t serving them well, or how they’re uncomfortable in the heat, or some other half-assed reason to moan about how their lives aren’t exactly perfect. I don’t want to serve these people. I don’t even want to serve my own family, because my soul feels as though it has been ripped from me and then smashed down with a sledgehammer. Even trying to make dinner last night was impossible, as I stared aimlessly into the fridge then sat on the floor and started to sob.

And without going into details about the nightmare my family is going through (specifically my brother & sister-in-law), I began to realize a lot as I sat there crying with my fridge door wide open. I was carrying this burden of disaster upon myself and it was way too huge. I was listening to my mother grieve, listening to my sister-in-law grieve, and trying to help my mom make sense of it as well. The reality of this nightmare finally hit me a couple days later as I sat with the cool air rushing out of the fridge hitting against me. I couldn’t listen to another ounce of troubles, or I would explode. I needed to let it out, and the best seat in the house was my kitchen floor.

I realized that hospitality is about giving a voice to people, through listening to them when no one else will, but there are times when it’s good to stop listening. I found myself hearing this song, “My soul finds rest in God alone, My Rock & My Salvation.” What I realized is I kept trying to listen and help, while bearing the brunt of the burden on my shoulders. Finally, my shoulders gave way and the floodgate of tears began to pour, along with my heart. I kept singing this one line from the song (because that’s really all I knew) and understood that God was calling me to rest in Him. Well, what does that look like–right?

It dawned on me that I needed to take a Sabbath from listening and dealing with the pain. I could take a day to rest in God alone and not deal with being a hospitable daughter, sister, and friend. I can take a day, in order to be a host who guides my guest to the cross. So today as I rest in God alone and in my Sabbath of rest, I can walk confidently in knowing that there is hope for the future. I can sit and cry on my kitchen floor, but it won’t always be a puddle of tears, but a puddle of spilled milk will come in the future. I don’t think it will necessarily be tomorrow, or maybe it will be a mixture of spilled tears and milk (because I do have a 2 1/2 year old running around) for a while. But for the current moment I have to rest in knowing that my soul finds rest in God alone, in order to stay a float.

Beyond the Reflection

Do you ever feel like you’re at a loss for words? You feel like you’re not really in existence, but just an observer in your world? As a little girl I had this shirt of Ernie from Seasame Street where he was looking at himself in a mirror and there happened to be a mirror behind him, so it was series of reflections of him that bounced back and forth. I would stare at a hand mirror, while standing with my back to the bathroom mirror. Then, I would focus on the reflection beyond the reflection. I would always wonder how far it could go, but I could never see that far and it gave me a glimpse of what infinity meant.

It’s like that in my life right now. I keep looking at all the reflections beyond the reflections searching for some semblance, but feel like I won’t find it anytime soon. Whether it’s the endless pile of laundry, constant trail of toys scattered about, never ceasing broom employment, and then I go beyond the household stuff and look at my girls feeling like I have nothing left to give. My creative juices run short come 7:00 p.m. at night, which means I hardly have anytime to do anything of consequence.

I have all these thoughts and ideas stirring in my head, but as a result of being a mom of two younger children, I have little time to really convey them or turn them into reality. Does this sound familiar for some of you? Some of it could be due to the heat, or the fact that as I write this at 10:40 at night my oldest has woken up crying for me. It would seem as though there is never a spare moment for myself. The idea of having alone time sounds superb, but the reality is when I do have it, it is spent cleaning, prepping dinner, or some other domestic activity to keep a rein on.

However, there is one way for me to unwind. Bake! It allows me to relieve tension, be creative, and I get to bless someone with the end result. It reminds me of my friends asking how I made raspberry sorbet. Of course, I begin with, “Oh it’s not that hard…”( then realize it is a little more complicated for someone who doesn’t spend as much time in the kitchen). I was telling them how to make a raspberry puree, which requires to constantly push the blended up raspberries through a sieve, and told them it’s actually quite therapeutic (especially after the umpteenth tantrum, whiny voice & all together sour puss attitude). You should try it! With that said, here are some great nummies that never fail me.

Peanut Butter Scotcharoos (printable recipe)

I was making all the desserts for my friend Jessica’s Bachelorette party a couple years back, my oven completely shut down. This was my back up peanut butter chocolate concoction made all by stovetop.

Ingredients:

1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup light corn syrup
1 cup peanut butter
6 cups rice krispies
1 cup butterscotch chips
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate chips

Lightly grease a 9×13 pan. Combine sugar & corn syrup in pot over medium heat, stirring constantly. Once the sugar has dissolved remove from heat. Add peanut butter and mix into sugar syrup until smooth. Add your rice krispies and stir till completely coated. Pour into your greased 9×13 pan and smooth out.

In a small pan combine butterscotch & semi-sweet chips over low heat, stirring constantly until smooth. Pour over the rice krispies in pan. You can either let them cool at room temperature or in the fridge. The chocolate will set at room temperature. Cut & serve.

Rhythm of Grace

You know that phrase from Jesus where he said, (and I paraphrase) “When you gave clothes to the naked, when you visited the prisoner in jail, when you gave food and drink to the needy, when you visited the sick and needy…you were doing it to ME!” When I think of what this looks like in my life, it makes me wonder a bit. First, because I don’t have much time to do much outside of taking care of my two young girls and tending to family life. Second, it’s so easy to get caught up in an idea and envision what you’ll do; rather, than actually follow through with a plan, because life happens, it’s complex.

But even though life is full of complexties, I still am not, nor cannot be satisfied with either number one or two standing as an excuse to not love through tangible means. It’s not part of my design. I think it goes back to who God designed me to be and what does that mean. What does that practically look like in my current situation? Do I put certain things on hold? What are non-negotiables, regardless of station in life? How do I dance in the rhythm of God’s grace while teaching others the dance?

I think this is where hospitality can come in for me. And as I’ve realized more and more over the years that this notion is far reaching and more all-encompassing than we let it be most the time. It’s beyond the food. It’s beyond an immaculate house. It’s beyond a perfect picture family. It’s beyond answering the “right” way. In my small part of the world, at this moment in time, it means walking alongside someone and making them feel more dignified upon leaving. It’s like Jesus said, “it’s giving the very thing that the person you encounter the thing they need most at that moment (paraphrase again).”

So for some it may be a cooked meal (family with a new baby), for another it could mean watching their kids (single mom in desperate need to get some personal time), while for another it’s simply looking at them in the eye and acknowledging their presence (the beggar on the side of the street). I do think hospitality can include food, because food really does bring people together, but if I simply serve food without love–it’s a lost cause. In fact, this reminds me of a time when friends came over many years ago and there I was bustling about serving our guests and ensuring their needs (more like their bellies) were tended. By the end of the evening, while I was thinking I had been a great hostess, one friend said something to me that pierced my heart and forever made me question the true meaning of hospitality. He said, “Kamille, thanks for the food. Ben, thanks for your hospitality!” Ouch!

What? I prided myself in hospitality. I WAS hospitality. I mean, when people thought of me they think hospitality–right?! Well, not that night and possibly not many nights before that. I started to ask myself why he said that to us. And it dawned on me that I wasn’t being hospitable. What I was doing was more like being a waitress, but I wasn’t stopping to inquire and draw out our guests. However, Ben was doing just that. So at the end of that night began my journey in this very expansive word hospitality.

So, how is it played out at this point in my life? Well, I’m still searching for some more tangible ways, but I do know this. I have been given a great task & call on my life to parent two girls. And I know those two girls have been welcomed into our home, so I ask myself this, “how do I show them the hospitality of Christ in the ordinary goings of life (potty-training, nursing, playing, conversing, etc)?” I’m not 100% sure, but I do know this, I’m trying to move to the rhythm of God’s dance and I think that’s a great place to start.

Daydreamer & Ginger Cookies

In first grade I remember having to stay in from recess to finish my spelling words. The funny thing is I have always been really good at spelling, but what got in my way as a six year old was my ‘head in the clouds’ syndrome. I’ve always been that kid who daydreamed and it was (and still is) very easy to play through scenerios in my head, or relive a moment, or dream of what could be. This dreaming defines me as an idealist.

It can be a wonderful gift, but it can also be debilitating at times when a dream you have isn’t played out the way you envisioned and you feel let down. As I look at my oldest daughter I see this gift in her as well. She has quite the imagination, dreaming of what could be with her head in the clouds. I wonder, how can I encourage this, fan this flame inside of her?

At small group last night we were talking about our dreams, or for some of us, lack thereof. There were some who asked, “what if you don’t really have any dreams?” While others were asking, “What if you have too many dreams?” It was a good conversation that didn’t fit nicely into a package with a three point synopsis, a bit of irresolution is nice (more time to dream).

One of my reoccurring dreams is to see how we can open our home to people, either through spending the night or making them a home cooked meal. And as I expand upon this dream it hit me. Well, an easy way to accomplish this is through my baking (I love to bake more than cook). Two doors down are a group of young adults who at times can be a bit loud in the wee hours of the night, but they need Jesus’ love just as much as my children do, so I think some cupcakes or cookies are in order. Plus, what young person refuses fresh baked goods? Here’s our family’s favorite ginger cookies (and I’ve been known to bake them if asked).

Giant Ginger Cookies (printable recipe)

I had these cookies at a B&B and was thinking that I wouldn’t enjoy them, because I remember not liking Ginger cookies. I fell in love. So much so that I called them up 7 months later to get the recipe if they wouldn’t mind. I also told them I was pregnant and had been craving them for 7 months (I was willing to play any card for my advantage). I think you’ll agree with me that they are terrific.

4 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
4 tsp ground ginger
2 tsp baking soda
1 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp salt
1 1/2 cups shortening (I know I’m not a big fan of using shortening–but these cookies are worth the sacrifice–use butter flavored)
2 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1/2 cup molasses
3/4 cup coarse sugar or granulated (I’ve tried both and I personally prefer the granulated, b/c there’s less crunch from the sugar. If you like that crunch that comes from raw sugar or turbinado sugar–use it instead of the granulated)

1. In a medium mixing bowl stir together dry ingredients (flour, ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt) and set aside.

2. In a large mixing bowl beat shortening with an electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds to soften. Gradually add the 2 cups granulated sugar. Beat until combined, scraping sides of bowl occasionally. Beat in eggs and molasses. Beat in as much of the flour mixture as you can with the mixer. Using a wooden spoon, stir in any remaining flour mixture.

3. Shape dough into 2-in balls using 1/4 cup dough (you can use a small ice cream scoop designated for cookies). Roll balls in the 3/4 cup sugar. Place about 2 1/2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet (invest in parchment paper).

4. Bake in a 350 degree oven for 12-14 minutes (if frozen 14 minutes is fine–just check for doneness) or until cookies are light brown and puffed. (Do not overbake or cookies will not be chewy.) Cool on cookie sheet for 2 minutes. Transfer cookies to a wire rack to cool. Store in a tightly covered container at room temperature for up to 3 days or in the freezer for up to 3 months. Makes 25- 4-in cookies.

Shalom for Supermom

There are places within my life that creep out without any announcement of its arrival. As I’m simply sitting, walking, going along my day, I’m hit with this sense of distress. It’s like a suffocation that begins in my toes and slowly makes it way to my neck. I feel overwhelmed and disconnected. Disconnected with life. Disconnected with being a mom, being a wife, or simply being. I want to run far away to release, but even doing that doesn’t stop the disjointed feeling within me.

This would describe how I felt on Saturday. Both girls napping and me folding laundry with Ben sitting in the chair next to me. I was irritable, frustrated, angry, annoyed and probably any other negative adjective you can think of to fill in the blank. I knew my fuse was super short and I couldn’t put my finger on it. All I knew is something was out of balance. I began to tell Ben about my frustrations. How I felt like I was endlessly working on our home (household duties that are neverending, i.e. feed girls, wash dishes, do laundry, clean & sweep, etc, etc, etc). I felt like I wasn’t being appreciated for the work I did. I was feeling like there were expectations being put upon me that I felt were unfair, or even unrealistic. As I was talking (being the extrovert that I am) out how I felt, whether it be rational or not, it was as if I was peeling away layers of an onion coming to the core of the real issue at hand. The cause of this suffocation. As if I was Eustace in The Voyage of the Dawn Treader clawing away at my skin to release myself from this metaphorical dragon skin.

As Ben listened to me and let me simply vent, I was able to scratch through the surface and two truths emerged from the core of these feelings. One was what Ben said, (as I paraphrase) “you don’t have to be Supermom, Superwife, or super anything. Remember it’s like what Rob Bell wrote about, ‘you need to take your Superwhatever and take it out back and kill it.” The second was me realizing I simply needed grace.

Now it’s Monday and I’ve been stewing in these words and feelings today. I pulled out Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell to find that chapter on the Superperson image. If you’re not familar with Rob Bell, he’s the pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church of Grand Rapids, Michigan, making of the NOOMA videos, and in my personal opinion, is very refreshing to hear or read.

In the chapter, Tassels, in Velvet Elvis, he speaks about a time Mars Hills was growing and growing and he found himself in a closet between the 9:00 and 11:00 am service holding his keys, wondering how quickly he could get out of there. He was suffocated, like many, from trying to do it all. He was trying to be Superpastor. You know the image, doesn’t say no to anyone, needs to be the model father & husband, needs to live up to the potential that has been inscribed for self, basically a facade. No one can survive living a facade for long.

Let’s translate that to my feelings on Saturday and what I was really feeling. I would take something good in Scripture and slant it a bit, like Proverbs 31. A wife of noble character. As I looked at this description, I began to think how was I this wife and mother? How was I becoming “my ideal?” How was I living up to “my potential?” How was “I” filling or meeting my husband’s needs? How was I being a self-sacrificing mother? I mean, is it not a good thing that I have chosen to stay at home with my children, because it’s the best thing for them? I still believe that and I wouldn’t start working outside of the home to find “my grace,” but I was missing the mark.

Back to Rob Bell, he writes about the tzitzit appearing in Numbers 15, which are the tassels on the corners of the garment. The Israelites were to wear these tassels as a physical reminder to remember the commands of the Lord when they looked upon them. To not just remember the Lord’s commands, but where they came from. Not just where they came from, but who they were made to be. And not just who they were made to be, but how they were meant to live life (meaning for modern day: was I prescribing an anecdote that simply didn’t fit God’s for my life?)

What’s interesting about the tzitzit is how Jesus as a good Torah abiding Jew would have been wearing these on his prayer shawl when, the woman who was bleeding for 12 years touched the corner of his garment. But even more so is what Jesus said to the woman, “Go in Peace.” Too often peace is described (as Bell puts it) as “without conflict or absence of conflict,” but it’s so much more. It’s easy to find in Bellingham bumper stickers that say, “Know War Know Peace, No War No Peace,” which describes peace as a picture of all nations holding hands in unity. This picture misses the point.

To know peace is to know restoration. Jesus isn’t merely wanting to give us a peace without conflict or war–it’s deeper. Jesus was telling me on Saturday and today and constantly, “Kamille, go in peace, have shalom, walk in the total presence of my restoring, redemptive peace I’ve given on the cross. Not just in physical realities like the woman I healed, but the mental, emotional, all-encompassing peace. Let all of you be restored.” It’s this holistic beauty in the cross.

Salvation is more than simply saying a prayer and having a ticket to ride for free. It’s allowing Jesus to move through all of me. To have true shalom moving through me in all that I do. It’s the restoration of all things through Jesus. On Saturday, my way of doing things was breaking down. I had this image in my head of what “spiritual” looked like, what a “good” mom looked like, what a “loving” wife looked like.

Here Bell puts it very well: In addition, there is always a mystery behind the mystery. There is a reason we do what we do, and often it is the result of something that is the result of something that is–you guessed it–the result of something. What happens is we try to fix things, but we stop at the first or second layer. We’re stressed and so we make adjustments in time management. But a better question is, why do I take on so much? But an even better question is, why is it so hard for me to say no? Or even, why is that person’s approval so important to me?

But it’s even deeper than that and it’s not until you dig up everything–that you discover the core problem. The core problem is walking away from Shalom and walking in sin, which usually comes from a lifetime of lies I’ve believed about myself. I have believed in the facade of who I need to be and it’s an insult to the creative God who made me.

Instead, this is my job, “the relentless pursuit of who God has made me to be. And anything else I do is sin and I need to repent of it.” My job is not supermom, superwife, superbaker, superdaughter, superfriend, or whatever super fill in the blank I’m putting on myself. I need to kill the “super” image. I need to rest in God alone and get back to finding my identity in Him. I need to have my own tzitzit in my life to bring me back to the restoring grace and love of my Savior. I need to wipe out the voices of even good intentioned people in my life, because it detracts me from my job, “the relentless pursuit of who God has made me to be.” I still have a long ways to go in this journey, but I hope you’ll join me in it. I pray that we will find true shalom in our journey & we take our Superwhatever’s out back and kill them.