Pertaining to Stuffed Salmon

In Valentine's Day this year, we went out to a fancier-than-usual restaurant and I got stuffed salmon.  It was really quite marvelous, despite the fact that I do not not normally go for salmon or goat cheese (the two primary ingredients).  It turned out very tasty!

Fast forward ten months.  I had frozen salmon fillets in the freezer (I'd had a coupon and they were on sale... Don't be fooled - I'm way too cheap to normally buy salmon) and goat cheese that someone had brought to a party and let us keep the leftovers.  As I pondered what to do with it, the dish I had for V-Day came to mind and I decided to try to recreate it.  Having been ten months ago, I really don't know if I did, but what I came up with wound up being a pretty sweet meal.  So here it is:

Stuffed Salmon

Salmon fillet (1/person)
Sea salt
Goat cheese (2 heaping T/person)
Dijon mustard (1 T/person)
Olive oil
Thyme (I used dried)
Pepper
Brown sugar

1.  Preheat the oven to 350.  If using frozen salmon, thaw and pat dry.  If not, pat dry.  Sprinkle salt on both sides and rub in gently.  Let it sit for a few minutes and then run the fillets under cold water, getting rid of any excess. Pat dry again.
2. Carefully put a slit in the center of each piece of fish that goes most of the way through to the other side.  Cover a baking sheet with foil.  Drizzle and rub around a little olive oil on the foil to disperse evenly.  Place the salmon on the sheet.
3. In a bowl, whisk together the mustard, a tiny bit if olive oil, a bit of thyme, pepper, and a pinch of brown sugar.  Separately, crumble the goat cheese and then fill the center of the pieces salmon with the cheese.  Sprinkle any remaining cheese on the tops, and then pour the mustard mixture on top of the salmon and slightly spread to even it out.
4. Cover with foil and bake for about 13 minutes, until they are done.  Enjoy!

Not Pertaining to Stuffed Salmon

Although I fear that with all of the writing and talking about what occurred last Friday this may just be white noise, I have felt compelled to write about this, even though I was originally planning on writing out the pretty banging recipe I made for stuffed salmon last night for dinner.  Fish can wait.

I would like to address the question of why God would allow what happened on Friday to happen. IF there is a God and IF He is loving, why do so many painful things happen in this world.  Why do innocent ones suffer?  What is the purpose?  Doesn't He care?

First, we need to be clear that MOST suffering is man-made.  Would it be right to assume, then, that God is to blame for these things that were not made by Him?  Our culture has completely cast God out- what right do we have to expect Him to jump in and rescue us from ourselves?  Given that we are a nation and world that has decidedly cut God out of nearly every aspect of our lives, how is it that we have the audacity to demand that He do something when we perpetuate crime against each other (and Him!)?

The fact is that God has given us some very clear instructions that, if we actually took Him up on them, would drastically reduce the suffering, pain, and evil on Earth.  If we actually put Him first, loved our neighbor, tell the truth, honor authority, not covet or steal, remain faithful in our marriages, not commit murder, etc. wouldn't our lives, on the whole, be so much better?  Is God to blame, then, because we choose to spit in the face of those instructions?  We suffer because we ignore those instructions.

Now, lets look at how God created us.  He had the power to "program" us for complete obedience and compliance, but He didn't because He isn't a drill sergeant.  He created a world where we are free to rebel and talk back and strike out and hate and abuse ever gift He has ever given us.  He allows us to do this without jumping in every time without immediately setting us straight-- because that is what love does.  It allows the loved me to disagree and to NOT love in return.  God could have created robots who comply, but He wanted persons who love instead!  He wants us to choose what we are going to love.  Forced love isn't love though.  So we live in a world of people who have chosen not to love God.

But why doesn't He stop it?  What exactly would "stopping it" involve?  It calls upon God to operate the world through constant interference... But would we actually want that?  If an invisible foot kicked us every time we were bout to do something wrong, we would soon stop doing wrong outwardly, but wouldn't we start to resent the Owner of that invisible foot inwardly?  We would be frustrated because we'd believe He was not letting us do what we want.  So God is sort of in a no-win position: we blame Him when he doesn't " do something " but we would resent Him if he were to interfere.

Now suppose He did prevent suffering as you're asking.  Perhaps he would jump in and wipe out the "big" causes of suffering- murderers and terrorism and abusers.  Things would be great for a while, but them the "medium" causes of suffering (perhaps kidnappers and drug dealers) would seem big.  So, He would get rid of those too.  Now we are left with the "littler" causes, like those who cut us off in an intersection or lash out in anger or are bad neighbors, which would become big deals to us.  So God wipes them out too.  Who is left??  Ultimately, the answer isn't that God wipe those people out, but that He uses bad to create good and to change hearts so that they create love, and not sufferings.

God DOES want to stop suffering because it hurts Him to see His children in pain!  But he wants to do so by restructuring the world... Not by wiping people out.  He knows that force doesn't change hearts.  Instead, He moves gently in people's lives who want to help Him recreate a world of love.

A couple of other thoughts.  Sometimes suffering comes into our lives because God wishes to disturb the world around us so as to shock and change our world.  Sometimes He will allow innocent, good people whose death will be so disturbing that its effect sends shock waves into our society to wake us up.  Jesus was the ultimate example of this.  Sometimes He allows these things because God can only teach certain lessons in dark places.  Other times it "forces" us to create solutions and changes that make the world a better place.  As humans, we are solution-oriented.  We want resolution, things to be fixed, effects reversed, etc. But God is evolution-oriented... his chief concern is not that situation is changed but that WE are changed.

I hope this was in some way helpful.  Most of what was here comes from a booklet that a pastor I had years ago wrote in a booklet called "If There's a God, Why Do We Suffer?"  If you are interested in borrowing it or chatting more about this let me know.

Keeping Up Appearances

Long ago, in the ancient days of infrequent blogging (not much changes...), I posted on a similar topic.  Needless to say, this topic doesn't go away.  As I was scurrying about yesterday getting ready to host a Christmas party the following thoughts plopped into my head, begging to be written down.  I am sure that someone out there on the ol' internets needs to hear them, but mostly I think I need to verbalize them for myself.  So if you want to hear a grown woman talk to herself in public, then please feel free to join me:

I knew that a bunch of women would be entering my home for a party.  Now.  These aren't just ordinary women who also happen to be in their 20-somethings like me.  Most of these women are seasoned wives and cooks and homemakers whose children are at least my age.  They are beautiful women with incredible wisdom, inspirational tender-heartedness, and soul-healing laughter.  They are amazing women to me and I was delighted to be able to have them over to encourage and bless them.

Which, of COURSE, meant that the floor they walked on had to be vacuumed thoroughly (and Swiffered, in the appropriate areas).  Naturally, being able to bless them was contingent upon having Christmas music playing at the perfect volume level of noticeable-without-being-intrusive in the other room.  It would be unthinkable to serve the Blueberry Granola Parfait with any yogurt on the rim of the bowl.  And, how could anyone have proper conversation if the two scented candles ("Christmas Pine" and "Winter Wonderland") remained unlit?  Unthinkable!

Yes.  I sound ridiculous.  I'm aware.  This is what trying to impress people looks like.  People who really (get this!!)... Do.  Not.  Care.

As I was scurrying about, God brought the story from 1 Samuel 16 to mind, when He sent Samuel to pick out a new king from Jesse's sons.  All of the men who were strong, handsome, undoubtedly ripped and toned-in-all-the-right-places were lined up as he went from one to the next, astonished, as God crossed each one off the list.  This is where the oft-quoted verse, "Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart" arose from.  It occurred to me yesterday that this verse is applied entirely too quickly to physical appearance, but it shouldn't stop there.

Yes, we apply entirely too much stock in physical appearance, but what about social status?  Selectively posting certain things in public forums that allow us to look like we have all of our neatly-groomed ducks in a row?  What about appearance of wealth?  Name brands can afford to be so much more expensive because they know consumers are willing to pay more to LOOK like they paid more!  Now, I'm aware that not all credit card debt is a result of this, but leaving beyond your means is often rooted in this too (don't buy stuff you can't afford).  Let me go beyond this one step further even.  What about activities we choose to get involved with, and then go out of our way to bring up in conversation?  Or books we have read?  Or movies we have seen?  Or places we have visited?  Or experiences we have?  Or people we know?

I am convinced that we often (yes, often) are motivated in some of these ways because we want others to be impressed by us.  We KNOW that men look at our outward appearance/status/wealth/education/home/athleticism/gym membership/resume of travel/cultural awareness/music-hipness/etc.  We build our lives around this knowledge.  But it is all dust.  What God thinks (and knows) about us is what determines eternity.  Wouldn't our time, then, be a tad bit better spent on things that are actually of importance?

Tour Time!

Happy December!  As previously promised, I finally am getting around to posting some pictures from our newly acquired home.  We still have a considerable amount of painting (and have waited for most decorations until that point happens), and so most of the rooms aren't finished, but this will give you an idea of our happy little home at present.  Would you like to join me for a tour?

So the first picture you saw was the front of the house, followed by views of our street.  Aside from the occasional party next door, dogs next to us and across the street, and police-helicopters overhead every so often, it is pretty quiet.  It's amazing that we're so closed to the city, but distanced enough that we forget how close we actually are.

When you walk in the front door, we have a living room area that is home to our books and music, as well as a coat closet (not shown).  To the left is the master bedroom...

And then the guest bedroom...

And on the opposite side of the hall is a bathroom still in need of one more coat of paint and different tile (at some point before we die).

At the opposite end of the hall is another living room area that opens up into the kitchen, but we are still waiting on our couch to arrive.  Outside the doors pictured is the backyard, which I'll get to in a few minutes.

Of the many many many many things I love about this house, the kitchen has got to be one of my favorite parts.  Not shown is the laundry "room" (just a big closet) on the opposite side of the kitchen.

Between the entrance and kitchen is the dining room, also still in need of another coat of paint.  Now let's head downstairs to my husband's favorite part of the house...

The basement is in an L shape.  Part of it we plan to section off to an additional bedroom at some point in the future, but for now it's our music studio/office area.

The doors lead into the utility work room:

The other door you may have seen leads to a bathroom which we painted in "Billiard Green."  I'd say it's true to its name, eh?:

And finally, our backyard has a lovely garden, shed, patio, and some beautiful trees which I adore.  We're so blessed.

So now that you've seen it, it's time to hop in the car and come visit.  The structure itself has no value unless people are in it-- consider yourself invited.  :-)

Enlarged to Show Texture

This is totally unrelated to the following post, but I came across it yesterday and thought it was absolutely fantastic and worth the read:

Read me!

As I was getting food preparations together on Wednesday, my eyes fell upon a phrase often seen in the corner of a box of food that states "ENLARGED TO SHOW TEXTURE."  Now, I do not claim to often jump immediately to object lessons every time I see something on the outside of a box of wheat thins, but for some reason this jumped out at me.  (Really.  I'm not that deep).  I started wondering, "what if I was put on the front of a cereal box with that label?"  What if my life was zeroed in on for all to see?  What texture would you behold?

My hope is that the magnified texture on display would reveal a life "above reproach" -- one of sober-mindedness, self control, respectfulness, hospitality, gentility, dignified, wise in speech, and faithful (1 Timothy 3:2-11).  If I am honest though, all too often that image would be humiliating.  I am thankful that when God looks at me, He sees His Son's purity covering me and presenting a glorious texture acceptable and pleasing and glorious to behold. (Isaiah 1:18).

Coming up later this week: House pictures!

To Whom, For What, and Why?

Social media is truly a very mixed blessing.  With it, we can unknowingly stalk love interests' photos, feed the flames of jealousy over what old acquaintances' lives look like, gain endless ideas for how to make "poo-less" shampoo and what to cover with chalkboard paint, and bemoan with like-minded sports fanatics over how so-in-so's team underperformed over the weekend and should be fired.

But for one month a year, some of the mediums turn into an outlet for positivity through which many have joined in expressing something they are thankful for each day.  Now, particularly after the awful presidential campaign season, it is a refreshing change.  However, it has brought me to contemplate the nature of thankfulness, particularly in public forums such as Twitter and Facebook.

Ever since I was a child sitting around the table at Thanksgiving, I always harbored conflicting thoughts about the practice of going around the room, with each person expected to proclaim something he or she was thankful for.  It would often end with a toast, which I also never really understood, and then a gluttonous belly-stuffing.  I regretted these conflicting feelings because I knew that being and expressing thankful sentiments was a good thing to do, but something about it never felt quite right to me.  But it struck me this morning.

Thankfulness is recognition of something undeserved and expressing gratitude for it.  Myriads of people express thankfulness for truly great things- love of family, sacrifice of military, met needs and desires, fond memories, etc.  But I must question these expressions -- do we ACTUALLY believe we are undeserving of them?  Secondly, what is the purpose of these expressions and proclamations?  And finally, to whom is the recipient of these expressions of thankfulness?

(I do not pretend to be a mind or heart-reader.  Nor am I pronouncing judgment on anyone who desires to practice thankfulness-- it IS a good thing!  I need to hear this, myself, as much as anyone!). Young children are taught to respond by saying "thank you" upon receiving something.  Not only that but saying it TO the giver.  ("LOOK at her when you say it" and "Go over and say it TO him" are a few phrases I've heard a few times in my day).  When you say "thank you" for something, you have to say it to someone for it to actually hold any purpose or meaning.  So when I see "Day 14: I am thankful for my seven cats" as a status on Facebook, it causes me to wonder WHO is being acknowledged for the host of felines.  OR, as I suspect is the case, the secular culture that we are waking up each day merely likes the idea of general gratitude that seems to make society a more pleasant place to exist in.  Without acknowledging the origin of these seven cats, it is simply a statement that says, "I like having these cats in my life."  Sitting around a Thanksgiving feast and proclaiming, "I am thankful for my health" expresses the pleasure of an easy life, not true thankfulness.

So what is missing?  Ephesians 5:20 reads, "... Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father..."  Psalm 50 says, "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving." Psalm 106:1 shouts, "Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever!"  A few chapters earlier in Psalm 100, the writer exclaims, "Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise!  Give thanks to Him!"  Philemon expresses, "I thank my God always when I remember you in prayer..."  Paul teaches in Colossians, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly... With thankfulness in your hearts toward God..."  What do all of these have in common?  We are told to express thankfulness TO GOD.  For what?  The first verse (along with many I have not listed here) says simply EVERYTHING.  Why are we to do this?  Because God gives richly- that's why.  I would like to challenge you (and myself) to carefully consider the heart behind the words of thankfulness during this season.

Thanks for reading.  I thank God for you.

The Old and the New

Monday marked the closing of our first home.  The theme of the "old" versus the "new" has been coming to mind a lot with the start of changes.  As transitions to our new space commence, it is apparent that the closing of one chapter begins a new one.  It is truly exciting, but I don't want to be so hurried to start the next one that I forget to acknowledge the beauty of the current.

Yesterday, as soon as I walked out of the door of our apartment, it became apparent that the two large trees next to the building suddenly realized that it was fall and they had some catching up to do:

The blanketed foliage was a reminder of the end of one season of our lives in this place.  As I think back over our two years here, this apartment represents so much of God's kindness to us.  Most of our married life so far has been here.  We've been so blessed with excellent landlords.  Despite the enormous crickets (one of my two least favorite products of nature, next to centipedes) and mosquitoes that come with it, it has been wonderful to have woods and a little creek to look at right outside of our apartment... a scene fairly uncommon so close to Baltimore.  We've been right down the road from a Wegmans in one direction and one of my best friends in the other. (Don't judge.  Wegmans is a big deal). 

Reflecting on God's kindness over the past two and a half years makes me excited to see what He has in store for us in our next location.  There will be new people to interact with and new lessons to learn.  When I started hauling things over to the house earlier this week, I brought these back from the garden:

Despite the autumn season, the yard was teeming with life... so much so that I couldn't help bringing some back with me.  As my present surrounding is cluttered with evidences of transition this reminder has been a breath of fresh air every time I walk in to the kitchen.  

This Just In...

A news broadcast "special report" was on our local station today that talked about a study concerning increasing numbers of accidents and injuries to people texting... And falling off a sidewalk.  Really.  This is news-worthy.  Had I been in charge of that story, I think I would have just said, "This just in: People are stupid."

Perhaps this is showing my age, but I'm fairly old-fashioned when it comes to phone usage.  I don't answer my phone when I am with others and rarely text.  I want to be in the present- to make the most of the time I have with my friends and family.  Those moments are times that God has provided for a purpose, and those people are important to me so I want them to know that they are.  Also, voicemail is there for a reason.

We as a culture are so engrossed in multi-tasking that the quality of what we are trying to do all at once drops drastically.  We have nature and beauty all around us, so look up when you are walking.  Enjoy the variety of colors on the leaves and the way they fall from the trees.  Take in the freshness in the air.  Appreciate the variety of face shapes and gloriousness of differently colored skin.  Listen to the wide array of timbres and pitches of sounds.  Don't miss what is around you-- it is so much more than a tiny screen of words and manufactured pictures.  Put the phone away, get your mind off of yourself, and learn to love the world around you.  That world shouts volumes of the One who created it.

Respected at the City Gate

My husband and I were both fortunate enough to be raised in households filled with love and strong marriages.  I am so grateful that I have a mother who is a wonderful example of an excellent wife whom I was able to watch, up close, for eighteen years. 

Now, I am far from excellent or wonderful, but I have made it a priority to try to glorify God in how I display love and respect for my husband even when I am not around.  One way I have found to be a blessing to him in this way is by making his lunches in the morning each day, including a note with something I appreciate about him, am praying for him about, or just simply reminding him that I think he is pretty darn swell.

This simple act of sending a lunch with him each day has caught notice of several teachers he works with in ways I could never have expected.  On a number of occasions, they have taken notice of something he has brought in for lunch and have been really surprised to find that his wife makes it for him each day.  Last week, one of them exclaimed, "Your wife still makes lunches for you?  How long have you been married? ... More than two years?  Oh."  The fact that I can show his co-workers that he has a wife who loves and supports him, in even menial ways, is such an encouragement to me that God can do so much with so little.

Proverbs 31:23 says, "Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land."  Until recently, I never understood this verse's place in the the Proverbs 31 poem. Verse after verse touts "she is... she is... she is..." and then all of a sudden there's this shout-out to her husband's reputation.  My response was always to gloss over that because, frankly, I didn't get it.  It hit me this morning though that it makes sense to read this as "she is a reason her husband is respected at the city gate..."  He is respected by others because they see that he is respected by his wife.  That is what I aspire to give my husband-- respect of others by how I display respect for him, even in the simple act of tossing some food and an ice pack in a bag each morning.

When I'm Not Amazed

I'm alive.  Really.  August and September and October have been very busy, but that's not the primary reason for the lack of updates.  Mostly it has come from not having anything to say that might be worth reading.  This morning though, a song on Pandora came up that brought me back to something I've been thinking about a great deal lately.  "Your Grace Still Amazes Me" has the following lyrics:

My faithful Father, enduring Friend

Your tender mercy's like a river with no end

It overwhelms me, covers my sin

Each time I come into Your presence

I stand in wonder once again

Your grace still amazes me

Your love is still a mystery

Each day I fall on my knees

Your grace still amazes me

As I was listening, I found myself mentally responding, "I do not feel amazed.  Nor do I feel overwhelmed by mercy.  Nor do I stand in wonder.  At anything."  So many song lyrics focus on ME and I and what I WANT to do for God.  This has been increasingly frustrating to me lately because you know what?  There are many days when I do NOT desire, I am NOT amazed, I am NOT overwhelmed, I am NOT brought to my feet or knees in wonder.  These songs are not uplifting-- quite the opposite.  They just serve to remind me what a sinful failure I am.  In those moments, the words seem to turn up their noses and scoff at me. 

The fact is that those things worthy of amazement, of overwhelming awe, and wide-eyed wonder ARE worthy... My feelings do not diminish their glorious nature.  In those moments, what I do NOT need to do is just try harder to feel those things.  What I NEED is to remember that Truth.  Cling to that Truth.  Allow that Truth to speak to my heart and mind and soul.  What I NEED to remember is that the Truths are no less wonderful... It is just that I don't understand them or care enough to see them as they are.  

If you are feeling as I am today- downtrodden, sullen, underwhelmed- join with me in returning to the wonderful fact that God's faithfulness, His mercy, His presence, His grace, are not diminished by how I feel about them.  

Life.

I'm not easily prone to anxiety.  I thank God for that.  Over the past year or so, however, I have felt a  growing uneasiness with all of the political, social, and religious tension plaguing our country.  Each time I read a Facebook post about pro-life/pro-choice, pro-Chickfila/con-Chickfila, pro-democrat/pro-republican, we pay teachers too much/we pay teachers too little, yay tolerance/boo tolerance, the Bible does/doesn't say that, such and such presidential candidate will save this country/such and such presidential candidate is a moron, yay health care/boo health care, etc. two things occur.  First, I revisit the thought of packing up immediately and moving to Canada.  Second, when I remember that they, too, have problems, I find myself face to face with the uneasiness.

Last night, after reading Matthew 18, my husband asked if anything in particular stood out from the chapter.  One thing had shot out at me like a lightening bolt:

And if your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away.  It is better for you to enter life crippled or lame than with two hands or two feet to be thrown into the eternal fire.  And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away.  It is better for you to enter life with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into the hell of fire.

Lovely, huh?  I know.  Just hang with me for a minute.  Consider the two contrasting destinations Jesus was talking about here.  How did Jesus refer to them?  Fire and life.  Two very tangible concepts that we're familiar with.  What stood out to me was the word LIFE.  From this short section, what do we learn of this so-called "life?"  1- It's worth sacrificing for.  2- It is a physical location that humans have the ability to enter into.  3- Sin can prevent you from entering into it.  4- There seem to be only two options: life and fire.  

The only "life" that I know and understand is the one I'm living now, and yet, Jesus isn't talking about what I know and understand as "life."  So my present reality seems to be a faint imitation of this other unseen life.  Hmm.

In light of the uneasy, unsettled feelings I've had, this all makes so much sense!  I am uneasy because this isn't True Life.  I'm not going to get all metaphysical or New Agey, but the point remains that all of the... stuff... that is going on in this world is caused by the fact that we are not living the perfect, pure, glorious, satisfying life that God intended us to experience.  This glimmer-- this shadow-- of real life is just that.  It's a shadow.  Boy, I can't wait to see the incredible, picturesque, sweet-smelling, mind-blowing sights that lie waiting ahead.  

But Why?

"Well, I liked the huge master bedroom, the short ride to work, and the enormous kitchen, but I would rather have two sinks in the bathroom, darker kitchen cabinets, and granite countertops," summarized the House Hunter from the television screen. A now-familiar thought ran through my mind while watching the show as I drifted off to sleep last night. The thought that has been increasingly on my mind as WE ourselves have been in the middle of house hunting: "But why?"

 Sure, okay, you want a master bedroom the size of a small cruise ship, but why? You want to be able to have a two-minute crawl to work in the morning, but why? You discount homes without granite countertops, but why? The bullet points go on and on, but the question remains the same-- why? What is your motive? Why is this important to you?

I have been lately considering my own motives for not just WHY I look forward to owning a home, but also WHY I desire certain qualities. Often the answer is along the lines of "I like this... It will make me most comfortable... This is most convenient... I would be a stones throw away from Wegmans..." In the end it boils down to MY preferences, MY comfort, MY hopes and wants. Is that really how I am commanded from scripture to live my life? In light of my own superficial desires and convenience? Did Jesus live in a matter that idolized comfort, convenience, or personal preferences for hardwood floors? Rather, my motive ALL the time ought be to glorify God and love others in what I do, and that includes how I hope and dream. How would our house search change if we were searching for a home that would be most effective in serving others and not just ourselves? Where would our home be situated and what would it look like if we had OTHERS' needs in mind, rather than simply our own?

 In this narcissistic age of the "you can be (or HAVE) anything you want" mantra, the things we make priorities are really completely superficial. Worshipping Jesus means you set aside yourself for something so much greater. Worshipping Jesus, for me and in this case, may mean setting aside my desires of IKEA slam-proof drawers in favor of a location that will better foster hospitality for people from church. Worshipping Jesus may come down to getting a home with (groan...) wood panelling simply because it will open up our budget to allow for more room to give monetarily. Worshipping Jesus is not a pithy bumper sticker saying. It is really a life-makeover.

It's All Over (clap clap, clap clap clap)

I slept in until 7:44am this morning, and it was a truly glorious thing.

F.B.I. Camp concluded yesterday afternoon with a fun and very successful closing program.  During the run-through a few hours earlier, I showed the kids and staff the slideshow. and several kids were teary-eyed from remembering all that has happened.  One precious child was sobbing by the end and said, "I don't want camp to be over and have to go back to school.  I don't have any friends at school, and no one plays with me."  Another child told me after the program had concluded that she wanted to come back every day.  I am so incredibly thankful that God has used this camp to be a place of safety and warmth for each child, and especially the ones to whom that is a foreign feeling.

As I look back over the past four weeks, here are a few of the favorite memories that jump out at me:

• Week 1, Thursday: On my way to church, God placed the theme of "weakness" on my mind.  When the staff arrived and we met to pray for the day, I asked them how they were feeling and how we could pray for them.  All but one person expressed significant weariness, physically-disheartening exhaustion, or emotional weakness.  After praying for each other, we dispersed as the kids arrived.  At 3:30, once all the children were gone, I followed up with what each of the staff's requests that morning.  Without fail, God had removed what was discouraging each person that morning and it had been a truly joy-filled day.
• Week 1, Monday/Friday: Children arriving on Monday, as shy as could be.  Children leaving Friday, excitedly chattering away, laughing and joking with us.
• Week 2, Tuesday: Gaining five new faces during camp and getting to know them.  When teaching the kids part of the rap song in the morning, in response to the line, "We're filled with thankfulness 'cause of your faithfulness," I asked how God had been faithful to them.  One of the girls who does not attend church shot her hand up and then shared, "When we moved to our house, we didn't have any furniture or food or clothes.  God gave us clothes and food and stuff so that we could have them."  It blew me away that this 8-year old already understood that it had been GOD to provide for her family when they had absolutely nothing.
• Week 3, Wednesday: During the field trip to the International Spy Museum, hearing one child enter the museum exclaiming, "I would LOVE to be a spy. They have the coolest job of dress up ever!" and leaving in the afternoon, exclaiming, "I would HATE to be a spy.  They have to eat poison and I don't want to eat poison!"  
• Week 3, Friday: Hearing that one child, during the Bible lesson literally plugged her ears and refused to listen whenever they talked about Jesus' death on the cross... or anything to do with death, for the matter.  
• Week 4, Monday: Walking past the front door and noticing a school bus out front.  I found out that the company sent the bus on the wrong day and had to  run around like a mad woman trying to make sure we would have transportation on Wednesday, when we actually needed it.
• Week 4, Monday: Learning that the child (from Friday) who persistently plugged her ears while hearing about Jesus was so scarred by her grandmother's death that anything dealing with the subject (even if it had a "happy ending to the story") completely made her tune out.
• Week 4, Tuesday: When I met with the staff that morning, we prayed specifically for the girl and that she would be hearing what was said, even if her ears were plugged.  I encouraged the staff to consider the same picture-- that we often, as adults, "plug our ears" and shout, "La la la la" to God-- but that we do it in a more... refined way.  Later that morning, I sat in their class and watched as she slowly started putting her hands to her ears when the teacher mentioned the name "Jesus."  Every few minutes, her hands would slowly creep away from her ears, only to resume their position shortly after. Several times, she said, "I'm scared" or "This is scary," but she intently watched the teachers present the gospel message even if her ears were closed.
• Week 4, Tuesday, 15 minutes later: During the kids' quiet time with God, one of the teachers related to me that she had put the words, "God is ______" on the whiteboard and had the child fill it in with whatever came to her mind.  She wrote, "God is in Mr Jon... God is in Miss Nikki... God is in Diana." (name changed)  God had answered our prayers to captivate her heart.  
• Week 4, Wednesday: Listening to one 6-year old (during our trip to the zoo) tell another child (not from our camp) who was scared of a snake in one of the cages, "Well, you don't have to be scared because that's how God made it!"
• Week 4, Thursday: Each day, I dropped one of the children off at home since her family didn't have transportation to pick her up in the evenings.  This child was particularly immature for her age (6) and doesn't attend church regularly, and we weren't ever quite sure if she was picking up the things we tried to teach.  When I dropped her off her mother said, "She just loves camp so much.  Yesterday, I overheard her in her room by herself talking to God."  What a precious thing it must be for God to hear these kids' tiny voices talking to him, unprompted.  

I could go on, but these were a few of the things that I wanted to share.  God has been so faithful to use each experience and conversation to His glory.  I am still in awe of how He answered prayer and moved in the kids' hearts beyond what we could every see.

What They Don't Teach You in Camp-Directing School

Okay, so let's be real. I didn't go to Camp Directing school. I am fairly positive that I made its existence up entirely. BUT, if I had, here are a few things that I am pretty darn certain they wouldn't teach you:

1. How to react when you first see two five-year olds kissing. Repeatedly. On the neck and mouth.
2. How to keep your cool when an adult loses track of a child during a field trip. You know... Hypothetically.
3. How to logically explain to a six-year old that it isn't a great idea to keep his balloon animal that he has become incredibly attached to in his prior three minutes of possession because another child wiped his blood on it after getting a minor cut on playground equipment.
4. That a game involving hitting a balloon back and forth may result in injury, and while attending to aforementioned child's injury, trash-talking would take place and result in four children crying.
5. That following said game with balloon stomping game solves everyone's woes and ailments. Apparently, when it comes to balloon games, violence is preferable.
6. That Elmer's Glue-All does not work on styrofoam.
7. Root beer floats and "punch bugs" are foreign concepts to persons under the age of ten. I think I died a little.
8. Angry Birds can actually be turned into a real-person game. It is apparently a great after-lunch pastime.
9. No child willingly eats mustard.
10. Kids understand and absorb than you think and are totally capable of way more than most adults give them credit for.

Three weeks down, one week to go...

And then, it was July.

One week of camp down, three to go! Here's a quick (stifles laughter) recap of last week:

Monday- The morning starts off excellently. Kids and staff are excited. 11:30 rolls around and lunch has yet to arrive. We rearrange the schedule to keep the kids busy while we wait for the city lunch to be dropped off. 1:00 rolls around and we have already moved the afternoon snack to give the kids whose, I have been informed by one six-year old, "stomachs are going to explode!" 1:30 comes... Still no lunch. 1:35, I find out that it isn't coming because they had the wrong address in the system. We invade McDonalds and get the kids Happy Meals. All is right with the world.

Tuesday- Starts off with an emergency meeting of the minds. I will spare you the details. Continues with a trip to Little Caesar's to get pizza for everyone since the city lunch program requires two days to fix the address problem. I call the bus company to ensure that all details are set for bus rental for field trip the following day and get a confirmation that all is right with the world.

Wednesday- Field trip day! The kids are in their classes and it's 10:05. We were scheduled to leave at 10:15. I get a call saying that, apparently, all is NOT right with the world and the bus is not, in fact, coming until we send a different type of payment form. Fast forward to 10:30 when, thankfully, all is once again right with the world and we are on our way to the park for a hike/scavenger hunt and swimming. No children drown or get left behind, but one child puts bathing suit on overtop of underwear and life nearly ceases as we know it when realizing it AFTER swimming.

Thursday- 5:30 PM I walk through the apartment door and announce, "Nothing went wrong today!"

Friday- Four new children from the community join in and it becomes apparent that the tone of camp is definitely going to shift a bit. But they are precious and we look forward to getting to know them.

Friday night- Storm.

Saturday- I get a call around 4:00 saying that power is out in the building and offices.

Sunday morning- Power is still out and we make the call that camp will be cancelled on Monday. Also, hello July. Where'd you come from??

Monday- No camp means I can finally go check out the final field trip destination (International Spy Museum in DC)! Deeeeefinitely a good thing that I did. During dinner, I find out the the power is STILL out at the building, and we make the call to do a half-day for tomorrow before it gets too hot. We call all of the parents and staff to inform them.

15 minutes later, our Director of Operations calls to tell me that the power is back on. Really. Really?

But overall, all is going well. The kids are a joy to be around and the staff is a ton of fun. I wonder what tomorrow will have in store...

Because You Are Young

"We are Young" by pop group FUN. starts off by painting a picture of 20-somethings in a bar getting high with friends and making memories over shared interests of alcohol. "Tonight we are young so let's set the world on fire. We can burn brighter than the sun" the song rings many times over.

Similarly, "Young, Wild, and Free" by Bruno Mars depicts youthfulness as a logical reason for making questionable choices. "So what, we get drunk, so what we smoke weed" (or "don't sleep" in the edited version), "We're just having fun, we don't care who sees. So what, we go out. That's how it's supposed to be living young and wild and free."

Kenny Chesney's "Young" reminisces, "We were wanna-be rebels who didn't have a clue in our rock and roll t-shirts and our typically bad attitudes; had no excuses for the things we'd done. We were brave, we were crazy, we were mostly young, young."

"We can dance until we die, you and I will be young forever" sings Katy Perry in "Teenage Dream," a song that on the surface seems to be about high school love ("love"), but upon a closer look seems to reveal a nostalgic longing for past carefree youthfulness.

"So we livin life like a video where the sun is always out and you never get old... Cuz there's no tomorrow, just a picture perfect day... So let's stay in the moment- smoke some weed, drink some wine. Leave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time. So when the director yells, 'cut,' I'll be fine. I'm forever young" sings Jay-Z in "Forever Young."

Do you see a pattern emerging? Being young means something very specific, according to the picture these musicians paint. Living without regret or limitation is what being young is about, right? Either that, or it is the overwhelming characteristic of being young. Perhaps, you argue, this is just a generational understanding of what it means. "Back in the day we were more responsible- we grew up faster" you might rationalize. Oh? A quick look at similarly-themed lyrics by Bob Dylan, the Beach Boys, and the Beatles might argue that young people haven't changed so much in the past fifty years.

Youthfulness is sought after by those who have long left that stage of life. Hair treatments, plastic surgery, makeup, Rogaine, yoga, cellulite creams, and talk show segments about looking twenty years younger emphasize the idol of youthfulness. So what is this whole business about being young anyway?

1 Timothy 4:12 has an interesting thing to say on the subject- sort of. "Do not let anyone look down on you because you are young..." Wait. Hold the phone. Didn't I just write half of a thesis on how being young is such a coveted ideal? Thinly veiled in each of those songs is the knowledge that living in such youthful ways is foolishness. The rest of the verse sheds some light on how these "young" ought to live SO THAT they are not looked down upon: "But set an example in speech, in life, in love, and in purity." Huh. "The youth of today" are looked down upon because they characteristically choose to exploit their season of life in certain ways. Foolish ways.

But what if we, as a generation, chose to enjoy our youth by ACTUALLY "leaving a mark they can't erase, neither time nor space" by being examples and walking wisely? Perhaps then, our thoughts and ideas would not be discounted. Perhaps then, we could make a difference. Perhaps then, we wouldn't waste years of our lives in self-centered foolish revelry. Just a thought.

What's All This About Risotto?

I never got the whole deal about risotto on cooking shows.  Come on.  It's rice.

Then I found a recipe I wanted to try that happened to use it.  It wasn't a bad price, so I figured, "Why not?"  And let me tell you: My life will never be the same.

Arborio rice is the color in land of Oz.  It's the marshmallows in Lucky Charms.  It's the unexpected snow day.  It's the still-wrapped, whole crayon in a box of broken ones.  It's the spiral slide on an ordinarily dull playground.  Put simply, Arborio rice straight-A student of the rice family.

When I was first trying to figure out how to cook the stuff, I looked at a number of recipes for the basics.  One commonality was that almost all of them were seemingly apologetic for the amount of work that went into making risotto.  When it comes down to it though, it's not that much.  Really.  Trust me.  Basically, you just add liquid every few minutes as the rest of the liquid gets sucked up by the rice.  The creamy texture and flexibility of flavoring is worth every carbohydrate (if you care about such things).

Suffice it to say, I get it now.  My culinary world will never be the same.

Insomnia

Few things exist that are more irritating to me than laying in bed, unable to sleep. Over the past five years, I have struggled with bouts of insomnia and I have only been able to pinpoint one sure-fire way to put myself to sleep. Pride and Prejudice. Not the six-hour nonsense, but the two-hour, Americanized version that ends with the only kiss in the whole film. Over the past five years, I have had to resort to this so often that I have virtually every detail of the movie memorized. I don't have to actually watch it because I can picture each scene as I listen to it and drift off to sleep.

On the occasions, however, when my own Mr. Darcy is sound asleep and I opt not to wake him up by putting the movie on, if I cannot fall asleep, I sometimes just give up and go do something productive. This morning was one of those days. Because I will be directing a four-week long summer camp and already know that my motivation to spend any length of time cooking at the end of each day, I have decided to spend the next month stocking the freezer with a host of reheatable or partially made meals.

It's strange what lack-of-sleep does to me. I was overcome with the obsession to make and freeze waffles. So, at 3:00 when I was finally over the idea of sleeping at all, I got up and made almond whole wheat waffles. Then I made a couple of quarts of marinara sauce. While that was simmering for an hour, I put together two things of pizza dough, a double-batch of cheesy garlic roll dough, made four diffent chicken marinades, mixed and cooked pineapple vanilla baked oatmeal, unloaded the dishwasher, drank two mugs of tea, organized my least favorite kitchen cabinet, and washed the counter way too many times.

Anyone have any favorite freezable meals, by the way?

So now it is 7:00 and I am absolutely exhausted. Invariably I always reach this point and then wrestle with the to-sleep or not-to-sleep-because-I-won't-be-able-to-sleep-later predicament. Oh to have a glorified body someday that will not battle insomnia...

Happy Towel Day!

In case you need a bit of explanation as to the origins of Towel Day:

Here's how we celebrated... in the nerdiest thing we've ever done:

Who Sees To It

Since graduating from college five years ago (wow, already?!) I have yet to have a full-time job. When I became blessed with the gift of marriage two years ago, my husband went from an incredibly stressful full-time position to a part-time one in a better situation. Last year, I left my part-time teaching position and started a 15-hr/wk job. We live in a notoriously expensive real estate area, pay monthly credit card bills on a card that hasn't been used in more than two years, slowly chip away at school loans, and are trying to save up to purchase a house in the near future. While we are aware that so many people struggle so much more than we do, financially, life isn't a cakewalk.

 Since accumulating some unexpected surgical bills and high owed taxes in the past few months, I have been increasingly aware of God's desire to show Himself to me as "the one who sees to it," often translated as Jehovah-Jireh. In countless small ways in the past several months, small amounts of money or opportunities to make extra cash have showed up unexpectedly. It has happened entirely too much to be coincidence.

 Now, I definitely do not adhere to the "health and wealth" or "prosperity gospel," but I am becoming more and more aware of how God delights in delighting His children. Right now, it seems He is delighting in seeing to our financial needs. Tithing doesn't come easily these days. It is also the only place in the Bible where God challenges us TO put Him to the test. My heart has overflowed as I have witnessed Him proving Himself to us as our Provider who takes care of every little detail of our lives.

Where's My Cup of Water?

I'm going to lay all of my cards on the table: It has been a discouraging couple of days.  I don't want to allow this blog to convey the sense that I have all of my hypothetical ducks in a row, donning ironed Oxford shirts and matching khaki pants.    Quite frankly, I'm a mess.

And I feel like it now, more so than usual.  A 10-pound bag of onions sits on my counter, still unchopped, unsliced, and unfrozen a week after being purchased for those reasons.  My sweaty, dirt-stained soccer socks are still in a bag by the door from my game on Monday evening.  The floors of every room look like our apartment is home to five children, not two adults.  I just killed a spider on the armrest of the couch with the remote control.  It's nearly 5AM-- I gave up trying to sleep about two hours ago.  Conclusion: I'm a tired mess.

I am very aware that the contents of my encouragement-cup seem to have mysteriously evaporated... either that, or it sprung a leak when I wasn't looking.  I've started to serious question whether what I'm doing is actually what I'm supposed to be doing because discouragement has slammed me like an unmarked dead end.  Hence, I am a tired, soul-parched mess.

There is something freeing about stating that, simple though it may be.  It serves as a reminder that I am nothing special.  How many other people do I know who could use a cool, refreshing swig of encouragement in their uphill life marathon?  Forget that whole "misery loves company" stuff-- I need to remember that in filling others' need for encouragement, mine starts to re-accumulate drops as well.

But I'll still be a mess.

A Cure for a Case of the Mondays

You need to watch this.

Final Project

Here is the promised, finished cake!  Since I starting the decorating classes, this was the warmest, most humid the temperature has been and I am discovering the irritating melting effect it has on the icing.  The buttercream I used to ice the cake was nearly melting as I was working with it.  Couple that with a dark chocolate cake already prone to crumbing and... yeah.... but overall, I was fairly pleased with how it turned out.

Teaser

Once again, I find that it has been days since I've been able to sit down to update, but life has been incredibly full and I refuse to apologize for that.  But a great big "howdy!" to the blogging world once more.

Tonight is my final class on Cake Design & Royal Icing Flowers, so here's a teaser on my final project (which is a 2-tiered Dark Chocolate Strawberry cake):

Hey Girl

Although Tuesday is typically "food day" on "But A Breath," today is going to be a bit different (though slightly related).  We will return you to your regularly scheduled program next time.

What do Frank Sinatra, Elvis, Hansen, the Justins (Timberlake and Bieber), and One Direction have in common?  Disillusioned women over the ages have swooned over these hunky dreamboats, clinging to the belief that their romance-laced songs happened to be written exclusively for them.  Currently, One Direction's "What Makes You Beautiful" is topping the charts, and a glance over the lyrics is evidence enough for this:

You're insecure; don't know what for
You're turning heads when you walk through the door
Don't need make up to cover up
Being the way that you are is enough
Everyone else in the room can see it- everyone else but you

Baby, you light up my world like nobody else
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed
But when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell
You don't know you're beautiful

Let's switch gears for just a minute.  One out of every two girls between the ages of eleven and thirteen see themselves as overweight.  Four out of every five thirteen-year old girls have tried to lose weight.  Ninety-five percent of people who struggle with eating disorders are between the ages of twelve and twenty-five.  Let's not stop with women though.  A UK study released yesterday cites a sixteen percent increase this past year of males struggling with eating disorders.  What on earth is going on?

Personally, I don't buy the self-esteem movement that touts, "Just believe in yourself!  You are everything wonderful!  Go you!"  I don't think the problem is that millions of teenagers don't think they're the greatest blessing the world has ever seen.  I think a huge part of the answer lies in the first question I asked-- people need to know they are valued.  Girls need to be encouraged.  Women need to be affirmed.  Boys need to be taught how to encourage girls in healthy ways.  Women need to be affirmed by men who are offering affirmation unselfishly-- not as a means to see them naked.

I cite the internet meme sensation "Hey Girl" as proof of this: 

There are tons of these-- some complimenting physical qualities, offering foot massaging services, or simply expressing appreciation for mundane tasks.  Why have these become so popular?  Because people need to be encouraged.  They need to know that someone notices and appreciates them.

I believe one of the primary reasons the singers I listed gained as much popularity as they did is that women develop emotional fantasy connections with them and cling on to the romantic messages in their songs not simply because women are emotional saps who love that kind of thing, but rather, because they are encouragement-deprived.  They are not encouraged on a regular basis and so when they DO hear a highly coveted "You look beautiful today" they cannot distinguish it from romance.

How many girls could we save from heartbreak by fulfilling their need to hear, "You are valuable to me" from a dad or brother or friend on a regular basis?  How many young women (and men!) could we save from becoming one of those "I don't measure up, physically, and so I will stop eating until I am a size zero" statistics?  How many people would be so much more emotionally healthy if they didn't feel the compulsion to bury this need in food or empty relationships or nitpicking in front of a mirror for hours?

Let me challenge you to put down your cell phone.  Look someone in the eye and give them a genuine compliment-- and don't let them get away with brushing it off as nothing.  Give someone a hug that communicates, "You are special to me."  Maybe if we are less focused on ourselves and more focused on others, we can actually improve someone else's life, now and in the future.

From the Mouths of Property Virgins

Dear possessor of house on the market,

If you are serious about wanting someone to actually pay money for your house, please note the following:

1. Putting a listing on a site without any pictures will not entice me to inquire further, regardless of how much of the description is in all-caps.
2. There is such thing as a .5 bath. If you list a .1 I will want to know what happened to the other .4
3. I am not interested in close ups of your stuff.
4. When taking a picture at night of a room with no windows, please turn on a light before taking the picture.
5. Since "location, location, location" is the real estate mantra, when your listing says "undisclosed location" it isn't exactly a selling point.

Sincerely,
Potential buyers

Fine Arts? Mediocre Musical Monotony

Check out Part 2 of "Fine Arts?" from the Soli Deo Gloria Music blog!

Cheesy Spinach-Stuffed Chicken

There comes a time in a recipe-shunning girl's life when she absolutely must write down a recipe, for she desires the exact same amazingness in her mouth at another time.  This, my friends, was one of those times.

Saute over medium-highish heat:

• frozen, chopped spinach
• crushed tomatoes (not a lot-- it shouldn't make the spinach need floaties and a kickboard)
• red onions, diced (or yellow- I don't discriminate)
• garlic, in whatever form your heart desires
• white wine
• crushed red pepper

Once the spinach is cooked and the flavors have simmered a bit, add the following:

• parsley 
• cayenne pepper (don't go nuts)
• cumin
• a wee bit of paprika
• sour cream (just a dollop or two will do)
• Parmesan cheese, grated (ah.... cheese...)
• a little shredded cheese (I used less than 1/4 for three servings), Mexican variety or cheddar or what makes you happy

Simmer down slightly, stirring frequently.  Prepare chicken breast by slicing open to make pocket for filling.  Open and pound lightly between pieces of saran wrap-- you don't want chicken juices flying all about.  Stuff each breast and secure with toothpicks, reserving about 1/4 of the sauce.  In new pan, cook chicken on all sides until cooked through (aim for 165-170 degrees).  Aim to only flip once to ensure filling seeps out as little as possible.  Finish in the oven if you like, but for the love of all things good, don't over cook it.

Finally, toss into that remaining sauce:

• white wine to deglaze the plan
• (after a minute or so) smidgen more Parmesan cheese
• tiny bit more shredded cheese
• an additional sour cream dollop

Keep on low until breasts are finished.  Plate the chicken and drizzle the remaining sauce over top.  Grab a knife and a fork and go to town.

A Cure for a Case of the Mondays

I simply love how photography has the ability to capture God's creativity and sense of humor.  Here are a couple of examples:

To see the originals and more photography of Seth Casteel, check out http://littlefriendsphoto.com/index2.php#!/home.

Fine Arts? Lackluster Lyrical Lines and the Like

Check out today's post at SDG Music!

Seriously Amazing Chocolate Peanut Butter Icing

I made some chocolate-peanut-butter-oatmeal-graham-butterscotch-chip cookies the other day, but decided they needed a little extra sweetness since I had used very little sugar and the natural peanut butter didn't add any extra sugar.

Enter: Seriously amazing chocoate peanut butter icing. So not healthy, but *totally* worth the calories. If I didn't share it, it would be utter proof in my hatred for humanity. So here it is:

In a mixing bowl (I find a hand-held mixer works better for this, but standing is okay too), cream 1/3ish C Vegetable shortening, a splash of vanilla, 3-5 teaspoons of milk, and a few tablespoons of peanut butter (I use Natural Chunky).

Slowly add heaping tablespoons of confectioners sugar until you reach a happy consistency and sweetness. (I used about a cup). Toss in about a teaspoon of cocoa powder (I used less since I wanted just a subtle cocoa taste). If you want your icing to crust nicely, add a little meringue powder.

Once the icing is smooth, beat for an addition 20-30 seconds. Add a pinch of salt if it's too sweet for your liking. This makes a small batch of icing (About 1 1/3 C).

A "Cure" for a Case of the Mondays

Here. Read the worst poem I have ever laid eyes upon:


Death!
Plop.
The barges down in the river flop.
Flop, plop.
Above, beneath.
From the slimy branches the grey drips drop,
As they scraggle black on the thin grey sky,
Where the black cloud rack-hackles drizzle and fly
To the oozy waters, that lounge and flop
On the black scrag piles, where the loose cords plop,
As the raw wind whines in the thin tree-top.
Plop, plop.
And scudding by
The boatmen call out hoy! and hey!
All is running water and sky,
And my head shrieks -- "Stop,"
And my heart Shrieks -- "Die"

My thought is running out of my head;
My love is running out of my heart,
My soul runs after, and leaves me as dead,
For my life runs after to catch them -- and fled
They all are every one! -- and I stand, and start,
At the water that oozes up, plop and plop,
On the barges that flop
                              And dizzy me dead.
I might reel and drop.
                                                Plop.
                                                Dead.
And the shrill wind whines in the thin tree-top
                           Flop, plop.
                                     
A curse on him.
                            Ugh! yet I knew -- I knew --
If a woman is false can a friend be true?
It was only a lie from beginning to end --
My Devil -- My "Friend"
I had trusted the whole of my living to!
Ugh; and I knew!
Ugh!
So what do I care,
And my head is empty as air --
I can do,
I can dare,
(Plop, plop
The barges flop
Drip drop.)
I can dare! I can dare!
And let myself all run away with my head
And stop.
Drop.
Dead.
Plop, flop.
                                              Plop.


("A Tragedy" by Theophilus Marzials)

The Rocks, err... Flowers... Cry Out

Luke 19:40 contains the frequently quoted "if these [followers] would keep quiet, even the rocks will cry out!"  After a trip to the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington D.C. yesterday, I am convinced that nature DOES cry out as testament to the glory of God:

Springtime for... and Germany!!!!