Yum, food.

I am always curious about how people eat: what they have for meals and snacks, how they nourish themselves with food.

And now that I live in the food alternate universe, I find that it is bloggers who open their kitchens and show me what's cooking. And then they give me their recipes, which I change and make even tastier.

And in the past couple days I have had such great success that I wanted to share it with the whole world.

Last night, I ate a pot pie, with a buttery, flaky crust on the top and bottom. It was tasty, had a thick gravy, and was completely Gluten (and mostly dairy) free. And it was delicious!

The recipe called for simple ingredients: meat, veggies, sauce. I improved it by using some Thanksgiving turkey leftovers, sweet potatoes and green beans.

Oh. My. Goodness.

I actually had two helpings and didn't leave any bites on my plate. Astonishing.

The only problem is that I didn't take a picture. Maybe next time.

Lunch was great: oatmeal pancakes made with leftover oatmeal that were moist on the outside and a bit crunchy on the outside.

And tonight's menu is equally spectacular: veggie frittata, salad, and a fresh loaf of bread.

Remember, there is always room at the table.

It's just me

Maybe there is no one else who feels this way. . .

But this weekend, Eric and I traveled to the other side of the state for his Winter work party. It's a pretty fancy shin-dig with pretty decent food (they cooked a fresh GF meal for me!), live entertainment, an open bar, and fantastic door prizes.

This year's party was 1920's themed. On the invitation, they requested 1920's costumes or formal attire.

Now i really love a chance to get dressed up. It's fun to put on fancy clothes and have a night with my husband away from the kids. To have adult conversations and adult food. But as you might imagine, in my life there isn't much need for fancy clothes, so I don't have too many formal dresses just sitting around at my disposal. Shocking, I know.

And my daughter and I were just at a museum exhibition on the late Princess Diana--where they showcased some of her beautiful (and in some cases, especially dated) formal wear.

It made me long to have something new and beautiful to wear to this party. You know, a great little black dress that was flirty and fun and sexy and beautiful. Or a shocking red one or a beautiful blue one. Two nights ago, I spent way too much time searching on-line, hoping to find the perfect dress in my size for $20 or less. I didn't find it.

So when searching in my closet, I had two appropriate dresses, neither of which are especially fancy or rich-looking. I choose the one I loved the most: a simple, vintage 1920's black silk dress I have had since before I had kids. We purchased it off ebay for a murder mystery we were part of. So, I grabbed that dress, my only pair of black heels, and 1920's felt hat. I honestly hoped that I wouldn't look completely out of place amidst the fanciness I was expecting.

Fast forward: leave the kids with Y, drive across the state, step into the elevator to head down to the party. We share the elevator with two couples who are all dressed in period costumes. The women are wearing flapper dresses with long pearls and feathers in their hair. I am beginning to feel stupid in my not-very-fancy dress. We get to the party and see many women wearing versions of the same things: black, white, red flapper dresses, lots of pearls and feathers. And lots of other beautiful dresses on beautiful women. But then I start getting comments on my dress and my hat, how they are obviously vintage & authentic, how I am the only one who could pull off the hat, how great Eric and I look together.

Later as I thought more about it, the dress was a perfect choice. Because then I was who I am to all these people I wanted to put a show on to, because I was real, I was authentic, too. Because I was simply who I am and that felt good; without a fancy costume or feathers or a sexy little black dress.

Even at my age, I find that it is still way too easy to fall into the "what-if-they-don't-like-me" trap or trying to be who others want me to be, instead of who God has created me to be.

And last night, I found great reward in being just who I am.

Reflecting on 2010

Our new year is already 3 days old! Wow, time sure flies. I know that I am a person who will forget what happened yesterday unless I purposefully try to recall and remember it. Even more so with the year that just passed.

So I am a fan of purposeful reflection.

Last night, along with my small group, I engaged in some reflection on the events, moments, and things of 2010. It was wonderful, not only to spend some time thinking on last year, but also to hear how others saw their year and each of us were changed. We worked from a list of 20 guiding questions, but only got through a few. Below I am going to post some of the best questions and my responses. Maybe you should take some time to think of the answers in your own life. Knowing where we have been and what we have experienced helps us to know who we are right now.

What was the biggest think you learned this past year?
    I learned about food. More than I ever wanted to know: what is in it, how it affects me, what God intended. New ways to think about food, what it means to be nourished and contented, how to shop, prepare, plan, and cook. And there is a lot more I still am working on learning.

What was the best way you used your time this past year?
    Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the time that I spend with my kids is the best way I spend my time. Teaching, talking, playing, learning together, instructing. And even though sometimes I may complain (a bit) I wouldn't give it away or trade it for anything!
What was your single biggest time waster in your life this past year?
   Facebook (that was an easy answer),

In what way(s) did you grow in your relationships with others?
    This one is hard for me to answer, but I would say that learning transparency and honesty in relationships, especially in my small group was a growing for me.

Pick three words to describe 2010.
   Food
   Practicing Contentment
 
What were the best books you read this year?
     I have read so many (many of which I have forgotten). But the ones that I haven't forgotten:
    Cutting for Stone (Verghese), The Odyssey (Homer, transl. Fagles) and the Old Testament (seriously, I love the OT. And I'm reading it in The Message translation. Fantastic.)

What was the single best thing that happened this past year?    This was a hard one. But if I had to choose only one,  it was hearing each of my kids saying ," I love you, Jesus."

Steady Days

Today has been one of those days.

The kids are tired. We are tired. And when we get tired, we each respond in slightly different ways.

The kids get extra hyper and loud and physical with each other.

I get extra sensitive and reactionary.

As you might imagine, the combination of these two reactions can be a bit explosive.

And tonight it was. I was frustrated beyond all, felt I had no patience in reserve, so I retreated. . .to waste some time on the Internet. And in my skimming I glanced over one of my favorite sites (and a new favorite) which encourage me: not to throw in the towel, to be intentional in my mothering, to be open the fullest so I can love to the fullest, to reflect God's love throughout my home.

Deep Breath.

After I put the kids to bed (a few minutes early, for both their sakes and mine), I was working in my new craft room (yeah, you heard me right!) and I took a minute to look over our family scrapbook. And I remembered that we, Eric and I, we chose this family life. And we choose it again and again and again. We choose the togetherness and the full contact of our lives with each other, we choose to engage in the messy, difficult, sometimes hilarious parts of being a family.

In my childhood, I didn't experience the full range of my parent's emotions at being a parent (huh, maybe I blocked that a bit). So I am surprised by how frustrated I can be, but also by the depth of my love.

And so today was rough. Tonight I will sip a warm mug of chai, sort through more pictures, and perhaps even watch a favorite movie.

And tomorrow morning, I will choose it all again.

I almost missed it.

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19

This year, I almost missed Christmas. Almost.

I almost let all the pressure surrounding the celebrating of the holiday overshadow the real reason and task of Christmas.

It all began on Wednesday the 22nd when I made a major mistake in each of the kid's Christmas pajamas. I didn't realize what I had done until I finished the waistband on the last of the three pairs of pants. And then came the thought that there was no way I could fix the major error and also finish their pajamas in time for Christmas Eve.

Previously, we had filled the week with friends and visits and fun, so the house was a mess and we hadn't gotten anything done.

The 23rd, we had Christmas with Eric's family. I was lucky enough to make the meal, but work and an unexpected recipe change meant just a little bit more stress trying to accomplish everything.

On Christmas Eve, I spent the morning running around doing a few last minute things. I was totally wound up. So was Eric. The kids were wired and we had too many things to do in too little time. There just wasn't enough time to finish everything that "needed" to be done. Finally at home, I sat by my sewing machine, sewing furiously, trying to finish pajama shirts: my machine was jamming, seams were super crooked and there was supportive stitching showing through and making my errors obvious to my eye. I also was thinking about all the food that I had to make: Treats for Jesus' birthday party, yummy food for Christmas Eve dinner, bread for Christmas breakfast. And then there were presents to wrap, Christmas cards to deliver to my neighbors, the house to clean and . . . .

I think you get the picture. I was completely stressed out.

Suddenly, it hit me. I was totally doing exactly what I didn't want to do with Christmas. I was making all the trappings of the holiday outweigh the weight of the meaning of Christmas. The stuff was more important than the people, than the baby.
And God sent some wonderful, gentle, loving reminders, in the forms of my children to help me remember (again) why God sent his son for us.

I managed to finish (with knowledge that I would later fix a major error) two full pairs of pajamas. And the girls danced around the house wearing them.

All three understand why Jesus came to be born on this earth: that our king had to become a baby to grow up and save us from our sins. To hear them declare their love for Christ moved me in a way that is difficult to describe.

At Jesus' birthday party (This year, He was gracious enough to allow gluten free brownies which we all said were really, really good), OG said probably the cutest thing I have ever heard. "Mommy, Jesus is in my heart, right?" "Yep, OG, he is in your heart." "Jesus is in my heart, so he can't see the brownies right?" During our popcorn prayer, their prayers were simple and moving.

Christmas morning was a great time with our family. The kids were excited to have us open the gifts they gave us, they were patient while waiting for their turn. And they all shared their new stuff.

Then at church, our family lit the Advent candles. Each member had a role: Eric (and Yoli, our adopted member of the family) read, the girls and I lit the candles, and J said the prayer. His confidence and the strength of the words he prayed was beautiful. I was one proud mama, not only for how he acted on stage, but for what he said with such strength.

And I ended the holiday with this thought, over and over:

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.

And from the real meaning of Christmas, this is the desired outcome. And it gives me great hope and great joy.

Reflections on this Season

I adore the season of Advent. It has become my favorite time of year.

There are many traditions and doings that make this season wonderful: exchanging gifts, cutting out paper snowflakes, singing Christmas carols, visiting with friends and family. And while those things are special to me, that is not why I love Advent.

Advent has become a time to worship the God who became tiny for me. It is a marvelous, miraculous movement on God's part that I never deserved or earned, yet he still came.

My heart is always full of emotion this time of year. I marvel the courage of a young girl who accepts without question God's call to bear His Son. I remember holding my own babies, noting their weakness and dependence on me and marvel that my Saviour was also so weak. I think more about that girl and how carrying this baby must have changed her, forever. May I be changed by the Spirit's indwelling too.

I worship with shepherds and wise men who saw the baby but knew He was King. They immediately fell on their faces to worship Him. I should do the same.

I think on Joseph who was asked to do the most sacrificial thing in loving Mary and Jesus, who was not his son.

I think of the stable animals and the physical world. Did they know their Creator had come? I believe they did and the animals worshiped. And the angels who couldn't understand why God would send his son to this dirty, broken world to save people who can't even contemplate the true depth of His love for us or His majesty or His glory. But they proclaimed him with voices full of joy and honor and glory.

I am humbled, awed, inspired, and changed as I think up on our great, big, glorious Creator God, the one who knit me together, who threw the stars into the sky, who sent the rhythms of the season to spin, gave up his most precious gift, his son, for dirty, broken, sinful me (and you).

Christ has come!
Emmanuel, God with us.
Rejoice and be changed.

Saying Goodbye

I have been dreading this moment for months. Officially for 7 months, unofficially, for just about a year.

This afternoon, our family said goodbye to our dearest friends. I said goodbye to my dear friend of many years, Anita and her husband Bryan and their three beautiful kids Elijah, Faith, and Mercy. They're not dying or mortally ill, instead they have been faithful in following the call God has put on their heart to run an orphanage for HIV/AIDS orphans in Maseru, Lesotho, Africa.



The Geurink kids with my kids. From right: Eli [7] Josh [6], Faith & Katie [5], and OG & Mercy [3]. 



And while the calling is great, the emotions of it suck. Anyone who has ever said goodbye to someone for a long time understands what I am saying.

Thankfully, our final time together (their whole family spent the night at our house last night) was not filled with sorrow and the bitter gnashing of teeth--no, it was filled with sickness, two lost teeth, stitches, and lots of laughter. I really love these friends--that even on this day, it was just life as usual with kids and messes and food and discipline and stories and needs and lots of humor. In fact, as we were saying goodbye, my youngest daughter (also the one who received stitches earlier that day) almost pulled my pants down to my ankles.

But still I am filled with many mixed emotions.
1) I am so proud of my friends. Bryan and Anita, you two have displayed extraordinary courage and grace in the midst of a difficult time of transition and planning. You have always been confident of knowing this was God's will and stood firm behind that. There have been a few nay-sayers (and in the early days, I was probably even one of them), but you have accepted this call knowing full well that God is in charge of your life.

2) I am sad--I will miss these friends dearly. Why these friends more than others? Well, all my friends are precious. But Anita and I met many moons ago across a table at Knollcrest dining hall. We were roommates in college, she a bridesmaid in my wedding, neighbors for four years, I was present for the birth of two of her babies, she present for the birth of two of mine. We have shared family histories, stories, many laughs, and many tears. She is the one who dropped everything and rushed to my side when we had to take OG to the hospital after she fell and hit her head. I was a blubbery mess when I called her and she called her husband home from work and drove from 30 minutes to sit with me in the ER. And both of us acknowledge that is exactly what friends do.

3) I am excited for the adventure this young family gets to go on. Come on, they're moving to Africa. is there anything cooler? More life-changing?

4) I am jealous. God has called them to sell everything and follow him, which they have done faithfully. He hasn't called me to anything like that yet. This time of saying good-bye has also made me come to terms with God's calling in my own life, and being content with whatever it is. Even if I am simply a home-schooling mom in a city.

5) I am concerned with the reality of life in a 3rd world country. They aren't prepared well for such a thing. I pray that God gives them strength for the many bumpy days ahead.

Luckily, regardless, I have great hope. We are united in Christ. Whatever happens I will see her again--whether in a few years as is our family's plan to visit, a few more years when they plan to return stateside, or in heaven as might be God's plan.

As is my prayer for them:

³ I thank my God every time I remember you. ⁴ In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy ⁵ because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, ⁶ being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:3-6).

Have safe travels, my friends. You are deeply loved.

 P.S. To the rest of you, check out their blog Our Beautiful Mission. If you want to read about what has brought them to this place, click here.