Feeding Beautifully

The last couple of months I've been trying to do more of the cooking. It's something I have always enjoyed, and always had a pretty good knack for, and always done a lot of - until the last couple years when I have been dating, engaged and married to someone who also loves and is good at it. We love to share this task (not at the same time usually, because some people don't share work spaces as well as others, and one of us definitely likes to work hard on something and present it to his wife when it is well-thought-out, completed, and beautiful).

But I've realized it's easy to let someone else being willing to do something for you, and enjoying it in general, and taking over when you're feeling really tired or morning-sick, to turn into it being his job. So here we are turning it back into a shared task, a shared delight. I might be back to doing most of it, even - except that he is pretty faithful to do breakfast every day while I'm showering and preparing for my early work day. I'm finding the fun in it again, and learning more creativity, and looking for excellence in how a simple things is done.

We are also (both) working at feeding our souls with the Word. Daily readings you can find easily linked to are a wonderful help for this, and ensure that you don't just skip to your favorite Psalms, or spend 10 minutes trying to find a good passage for the day.

The world has been charged with the glory of God, as the poet Hopkins so famously has written. It comes out everywhere. It's there in the growing and harvesting and shopping and preparing and serving and eating of beautiful and good foods; it is explicit in the pages of words passed down through the ages and the church; it is shimmering in the light on the trees you can't stop looking at early dewy mornings; it is leading and inspiring the kindness in faces that smile across the room and in arms that hold you and in hands met in the passing of the peace and in gracious words of forgiveness from someone you dealt false or rudely with again.

The glory is there. Sometimes it takes a little poking and pulling back of the leaves to see it growing quietly there. Sometimes it looks like contentedness that borders on the mundane. Sometimes it is waiting on the shelf to be picked up and opened. Sometimes it is in your cupboard and in your fridge and needs to be measured and tossed and marinated and grilled. And then shared. Glory is meant to be shared, given, helped with, talked about, received.

---
I made this bread today. Vermont Whole Wheat Oatmeal Honey Bread. So very delicious, soft, and rich. I sensibly put one loaf into the freezer for busy July days when Baby is making things harder, but we have already eaten about half of the other loaf... not even as a meal, just snacking. I'll have to bake more bread, maybe even tomorrow.

And I posted this to facebook the other day when I needed a bit of encouraging for the day's tedious and seemingly-endless hours. 
I always want to be a little less weak, a little more purposeful. 2 Corinthians 2:14-17 has been on my mind a lot since Fraser read it at breakfast yesterday.

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place. For we are a fragrance of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing; to the one an aroma from death to death, to the other an aroma from life to life. And who is adequate for these things? For we are not like many, peddling the word of God, but as from sincerity, but as from God, we speak in Christ in the sight of God."

Serving the Body of Christ

Rachel Jankovic at Femina Girls has such a good post today. Read it. Just do it.

http://www.feminagirls.com/2014/02/24/fight-for-us/

Ford Raymond Tucker, in memoriam

You may lay his body in the ground today
    like a grain of wheat that has fallen,
       but what is rainfall, what is the dark of sod,
       when your life has been hid in Christ with God?
    Your son, your brother will be called
to rise up tall with eternal day,
and the Son of light will dry all tears away.

Ford (center) with 6 of  his 10 siblings at Easter

Rock that is Higher than I

Pastor Wilson gave an excellent sermon this morning on Psalm 61. Excellent. I told my roommates when I got home that I feel like it is cliched when someone asks you how the sermon was to say it was just what you needed... but sometimes that is 100% true. Much of the time it is, in fact.

I wish I could post a link to a video of this, but I don't think that it was filmed. There is probably audio available for it a couple days afterwards. I'll find out. Here is a link to the sermon notes. A couple things that I think weren't on there that stuck in my mind were, "Pray about your troubles. If it's big enough to trouble you, it's big enough to trouble God with," and at the end of the sermon, "Don't live like your troubles ARE'NT present; but live as though Christ IS present."

God's Providence

The providence of God is like Hebrew words—it can be read only backwards.

-John Flavel

Romans 8:31-34

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?

Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.

Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us.

January Monday: old faithfuls

Beginnings.

They happen all of the time. Every morning, you sit up and yawn and brush away the dark, and another 24 hours curve out in front of you all shiny with the sunrise and silver with dew and heavy with dreams and pressing with things to do. Every Saturday night, you lay down your work and prepare to meet God in the company of His saints, where you are re-enabled to love and serve Him another week. Every Monday, you take up your cross of labor and assignments and teachers and bills and traffic and boss and co-worker and family responsibilities. Every Christmas you rejoice anew at the gift of God in our form that happened to renew us into His form. Every Easter you are reminded of the grime that was stripped from your soul by that One Sacrifice, and every time you confess your sins you feel the lightness again and can stand up and go out with a fresh slate. Every January 1st we pledge to do or not do something great or ambitious, something that will change us into better people, and whether we stick with it throughout the next 365 days or not, we start feeling like we can do anything. Like we are new people.

It is January, the first month of the year. And it is a Monday, the fresh start to the week, even if it is the hardest day to get out of bed. But today is the second Monday of the year. And today I am grateful for the things that are the same about my life as they were a while ago. I am, of course, thankful for many things that are new and different about this year, and am also hoping to see change and wisdom and joy grow in me and around me. But there are so many things that are good, solid, glad, reliable, proven, peaceful, funny, comforting about my life both today and days gone by.

Thanksgiving #245-253

-Good Earth Original tea, no matter how tired I think I am of cinnamon and similar spices, still tastes good.

-my dad will never stop taking care of me like I am his little girl.

-my awesome grandparents at Christmas: Grandpa talks to everyone and has the best dry sense of humor around, but he doesn't get emotional or huggy very often. Grandma bestows hugs and thank-yous and all of the presents to so many people, but you can also look across and see she is just looking at you... without saying anything... for a very long time... and not ever meaning to say or do anything at all... just admiring something about you probably. And if it were anyone but her that would be a little awkward.

-after a month away, all the roommates will congregate back here, still the same people with the same strengths and personalities, no matter what has changed in their lives.

-George Herbert. Can I just say, his poetry will never cease to be amazing? I can always find something that says just what I want to say to God.

-coming back to a job and having people be happy to see me, having my work waiting for me like a faithful puppy.

-no matter how empty my fridge is, I can still go into the grocery store and find exactly everything I need right there on those shelves, and when I give the cashier the right amount of papers and coins, she lets me take it all home and put it comfortably onto those refrigerator shelves.

-O Brother Where Art Thou makes my whole self happy. Homer was awesome, the Coens are talented, the music is perfect, George Clooney is ridiculously good-looking even in middle age, and having sisters who like to compare book and movie just make it better.

-the Christmas lights are still up around my windows. I think they should stay there indefinitely.

Happy New Year

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.
2 Corinthians 5:17

"Did you get a sunburn?"

Being a naturally-rosy person, and one that flushes easily with heat, embarrassment, anger, tears, laughter (you name it!), I have no idea how many times I've been asked that.

Today I didn't mind it at all.

Doris asked so sweetly, and her face is so palely aging, and she wanted to hold my hand and to talk about her six sons and my seven brothers, and she waits to see us Monday by Monday and to hear our voices.

Doris has watery eyes and thin, dark-grey hair. She seems like she has had a happy life, in the easy way she smiles, in how she thanks us for singing, and requests we sing particular hymns, and in the kindness she shows to Patsy by finding her page in the hymnal every single time. Even brightly-dressed Patsy who watches us sing with her mouth open and no comments after the songs cannot be rude to Doris, and her presence is softened by her quiet, gentle-spirited neighbor. Doris is grace and peace behind a walker. She is joy in the grey moments, joy in the last days.

Doris is one of the people who makes Monday a delight.

Other goodies in my life today: 135-145

135. Extra sleep after the alarm rings

136. A bag of apples in the pantry, another on the counter, another on the floor, and the fruit bowl piled high

137. New socks on cold mornings

138. T. S. Eliot, particularly snippets from Choruses From 'The Rock' (1934) IX and X.

139. A notebook with a clear page, and a pen with a fine nib

140. Freshly made applesauce steaming on the stove, golden lumps and smoothness, faintly breathing cinnamon

141. Pomplamoose and their delightful music (Youtube will acquaint you with them - awesome couple!)

142. Lisa's apple Pan-Dowdy

143. Cheddar cheese in thick slices

144. That my car has a radio

145. Really hot water from the tap.

planks of thanks

"Trust is the bridge from yesterday to tomorrow, built with planks of thanks. Remembering frames up gratitude. Gratitude lays out the planks of trust. I can walk the planks - from known to unknown - and know: He holds."

from One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp

#110-122

110. a sister who comes and wakes me up if I oversleep in the morning
111. the bliss of sleep after insomnia
112. a wedding and its attendant gladness, tears and bittersweet memories
113. Luke and Theresa's smiles as they turned to face one another over the rings
114. my mom putting a check into my hand
115. fresh cow's milk
116. latin conversations all the way from Bucer's to Garfield Street
117. tortillas fried
118. Billy Collins
119. reading someone else's poetry and being lifted by it
120. old computers that still run
121. a zip-up hoodie with long enough sleeves
122. the satisfaction of paying rent on the exact day it is due

Speaking Back

Last night I felt that there were too many good things. Too many things about my life that I love to really mention them all, to even share with people who care how happy I am, to even bookmark enough things that I won't forget them. There are too many. And I really can't do them justice. But I must still attempt it.

If I am living under a waterfall of mercies, I must at least try to acknowledge a few teaspoons-full of it. I am walking the North Cascade Highway, and I have to take as many digital pictures as I can, although even a video camera would never do it justice. I am a small creature on a vast seashore, and must draw my lines through as much of the golden sand as I can.

Christ gave His all in order for me to have all of this.

And even today, when some of the rose of a fabulous Sunday has faded, and I'm not having the smoothest Monday of my life, I must speak. Still the waterfall falls, pouring silver and sunlight over my head. The right hand of His mercy is in water flowing over me, the left hand of the rocks below that catch me roughly when I slip, and so much else, so much crowding in on me and so much out of my sight, speaks Christ incessantly, boundlessly. This is my one response.




#73. tears that lead to unfolding and understanding and healing
74. music by Over The Rhine
75. having a job that is all about building a person - body and mind and soul. I am honored.
76. tylenol
77. the Nuart Block Party and scads of people enjoying and loving God together there
78. standing 10 feet from the stage to experience the music: the praiseful words, feeling the rhythm reverberating in me, watching fingers on frets and keys leaping and switching skillfully, the people surrounding me moving to the music
79. Maria and Becki, reading aloud from my Lord Peter Wimsey collection as I drove the 115 miles yesterday
80. fresh veggies in my fridge from my mom's garden
81. BBQ food
82. Joseph Schoolland's laugh
83. the satisfaction of a child accomplishing a hard task, and being there to praise their efforts with the right words
84. sharpies
85. the gas I bought and used this weekend - I am so grateful to have a gas-burner to get me places I want to go!
86. waking up early even when I don't need to. The extra time provides such a relaxing morning routine.

39-53 on a good Monday

Peer pressure. Conformity. I don't know what to call it, but sometimes I feel stupidly inclined to side with those around me and reflect the same attitudes they do when the ideas are not mine at all. And then I stop and think, what the heck?! I don't agree with that. How'd I get on this bandwagon?!?

Mondays are one of those things.

Most people are Monday-haters. And most of the time, I don't blame them. Sunday is over and the rest we've had is at an end for a good number of days. The weekend is done and whatever we planned better be done already or ain't getting done. Some people head back to school, with strenuous, mind-boggling, insane amounts of assignments. Others head back to unpleasant jobs they were so relieved to get away from on Friday. Me, I can always use more weekend, too - more time to relax, to cook, to meet up with friends, to watch movies, to read. I love Sundays, and am always looking back at a pleasant time had on the last one, and peering ahead to when the next one will arrive.

But I have not had an unpleasant Monday in ever so long. When I was in school, Monday meant a fresh start - leaving behind whatever poor grades or difficult assignments I'd barely finished on Friday, and starting anew with all sorts of possibilities. It meant tea time at 9:30 or 10 in the morning with the entire school gathered for tea, coffee and snacks in the commons. It meant chatting with classmates again between classes and learning new things in the classroom from teachers I loved. As Dr. Wilson would say (and his Naval officer had started Mondays with once upon a time), "Goodie, goodie, Monday morning, another week in which to excel!" :)

Now, as a graduate with job responsibilities and bills, I still have nothing much to complain about on Monday AM. I may be tired, need gas for my car, or just be moody, but the day and the week is new. Everything in a sense has had a death at the end of last week and been resurrected over the Lord's Day, so that I face this week with a clean face and an open heart, clean hands and open eyes to see the goodness of God in the land of the living.

Thank God for Mondays.

#39. blackberries and plums on the counter from my sister and her afternoon picking fruit yesterday
#40. clean laundry, though it be piled high and messy on the chair in my room
#41. fried potatoes and eggs
#42. makeup. oh how grateful I am for thee.
#43. my roommate Tali's laugh
#44. looking forward to singing at the Clark House nursing home tonight
#45. the opportunity to start a Bible study
#46. Laura M and her sweet words
#47. absence of construction on the road (that has been slowing me down for weeks) this morning
#48. sunshine chasing away the clouds of the night
#49. the thunderstorm that lit our sky with weird blue fire last night, watered the lawn, and watered our skin as we watched
#50. that the fires started by the lightning (in wheatfields and a tree) were easily put out
#51. my little student's cursive in the words of Scripture she copied for me
#52. her smiles and laughter as we work together over the morning
#53. an open window in a car with broken AC
">

Active Obedience

Why do we refrain from helping when we know that help is so needed? Why do we remain silent when our voice should be lifted for a cause we believe in?

Our error is that of omission rather than commission, and for some reason that makes us feel okay about it all. We judge our own and other peoples' actions by the element of badness in them, but good is not merely a lack of badness. Just because we are mostly inert and inactive doesn't mean we are behaving as we ought. There is an active element to well-doing.

Sometimes we are not being outright law-breakers. We have no obligation to join in an activity, or to speak to this person we don't know, or to give our time to a mercy ministry in our area. We don't need to join the cheesy song and dance in order to serve God. We already do what we are told to do, explicitly, and seriously, this extra stuff is just for the really outgoing and extroverted people, the ones who are 'good at' it. This poetic piece talks about loving orphans in a way that costs us nothing. Yet how many of us are just this way? We think being of Northern European extraction exempts us from participating, or we think that getting into the motions is too immature.

James tells us: "To him who knows to do good and does not do it, to him it is sin." (James 4:17) Sometimes, showing God's love to the world might call for some embarrassing and inelegant moments that make you terribly self-conscious and red in the face. We must be willing step up and live as lights to the world, lights that are not under a bushel but reaching into the far corners of darkness. We must be willing to look silly to the world, for the world laughed at Christ and it will laugh at us as it laughed at Him. We need to be ready to look silly to ourselves, to be awkward for the sake of Love. We need to be willing to be fools - fools for Christ.

Neighboring

For some reason, making friends of those who live just next door seems a little bit difficult to me. I mean, we probably have very little in common. They don't attend my church, the school I just graduated from, or any of the weekly activities I'm involved with. I know nothing about them but that the people to the North of us have an alert black dog and a young son, the people to the West must like to garden because their yard always looks great, the old folks across First street are doing construction in their yard, and whoever lives in the yellow house has an alarm that goes off every morning at 7:00.

But we are called to know our neighbors. We are told, in the same verse and with just a little less emphasis than that of loving God, to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mark 12:30-31).

It is easy to jump to what we are always told by pastors and parents (and which is all true) that our closest neighbors are those who live in the same house we do, and to focus on those relationships. Yes, very true; but the Samaritan and the Jew weren't siblings, spouses or roommates. The command to love one's neighbor as oneself extends far beyond the walls of your home.

This week, I am getting to know my neighbors. Not just waving when I walk by and they are out getting their mail. Not retrieving my or my family's wandering pets and other animals from destroying their property. Not sending them Christmas cards that say all the generic things on them and none of the important things. Not overhearing conversations, arguments or party music from a house or two away, and deciding from that what they are like.

Emma (my roommate) and I were just talking about inviting some of our neighbors over for dinner. To start out, we decided we will have to knock on their doors and meet them, or happen to catch them when they're out in their yards pulling weeds or getting home from work. But that very day, before we had the chance to even start something, one of the neighbors knocked on our door, and handed us an invite to a block party in his yard, and stayed to visit for a few minutes. The invite is on the fridge, and we are all deciding what food to bring to it tonight. Then I was ambushed by bees in the yard, and, reacting much more severely than usual but having no allergy medicine, I walked over to the house with the lovely yard and knocked, and made an acquaintance while asking for help. And then yesterday, the woman with the dog who barks at me every day and the little boy with the tent in the backyard came out and visited through the fence and asked if her dog Shadow bothered us by his barking. Now I just need to ring the doorbell of the yellow house at 7 one morning until I wake the sound sleeper who lives there - but considering the volume and insistence of his alarm, the doorbell might not do the trick.

This is real life, and these are real people, and we have a real job to do in making where we live a beautiful and pleasant place, and to share the joy that we have been given with others. We are not called to live secluded lives, never stepping foot outside our doors unless it's to get into our car and drive to our own job, school or church. We are not called to develop ties with third-world countries by means of the internet or mail system while we ignore the broken people in our neighborhoods. We are not called to be friends with only those who are 98% like us in belief systems, ideals, religions and political views.
We are called to know, to help, and to love our neighbors, and that includes the ones who are unlovely. It includes the ones who are on the opposite side of a fence that is more like a wall. It includes those who look like they are too snooty to interact with people from the lower-middle class, and those who chain-smoke in their alley while their kids frolic in the dirt, barely dressed. And it definitely includes those who are only removed from you by two walls and the different sidewalks you use.

All Grace

He who sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and he who sows bountifully will also reap bountifully.

So let each one give as he purposes in his heart, not grudgingly or of necessity; for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound toward you, that you, always having all sufficiency in all things, may have an abundance for every good work.

As it is written:
'He has dispersed abroad,
He has given to the poor;
His righteousness endures forever.'

Now may He who supplies seed to the sower, and bread for food, supply and multiply the seed you have sown and increase the fruits of your righteousness,
while you are enriched in everything for all liberality, which causes thanksgiving through us to God.

2 Corinthians 9:6-11


27. the cool morning air during my run when I know that mid-day will be close to 90
28. my roommate Tali's cheery good-morning
29. cantaloupe
30. forgiveness, not only for the big things, but for the very petty as well
31. the faithfulness of my pastor and what I've learned from him in 15 years
32. Psalm sing held in Friendship Square downtown
33. our capable music leader, complete with shades and baseball cap
34. text message from a friend who lives just down the street
35. the luxury of lotion
36. coffee, even without cream
37. the possibilities of an early Monday morning
38. the amazing little girl I get to work with every day

Things to Think

Think in ways you've never thought before.
If the phone rings, think of it as carrying a message
Larger than anything you've ever heard,
Vaster than a hundred lines of Yeats.

Think that someone may bring a bear to your door,
Maybe wounded and deranged; or think that a moose
Has risen out of the lake, and he's carrying on his antlers
A child of your own whom you've never seen.

When someone knocks on the door, think that he's about
To give you something large: tell you you're forgiven,
Or that it'snot necessary to work all the time, or that it's
Been decided that if you lie down no one will die.

-Robert Bly

First week of May

- The sun shone unhindered several days in a row. The temperature was above 60. I love the slightly-swelling feeling of your skin warming, when you can almost feel the melanocytes working away and sending their little umbrellas up to the surface of your epidermis to protect you.

- That was the best reading exam I've ever had with Mr. Grieser's. And thanks to the extra credit portion, I have refreshed poetry clambering around in my head - seven poems in all that I could recite right now.

- Julie. One of the sweetest, most unpretentious, considerate friends I have. Why do people have to go SO far away?

- Lindsey's wedding invitation. Now there are 7 on my windowsill. :)

- My new green purse that I got for <3 bucks. Ain't it nice how one accessory can totally make an outfit work?

muddy and tattered

This picture made me think of this nugget from C. S. Lewis:

“I know all about the despair of overcoming chronic temptations. It is not serious provided self-offended petulance, annoyance at breaking records, impatience et cetera doesn’t get the upper hand. No amount of falls will really undo us if we keep on picking ourselves up each time.
We shall of course be very muddy and tattered children by the time we reach home. But the bathrooms are all ready, the towels put out, and the clean clothes are in the airing cupboard. The only fatal thing is to lose one’s temper and give it up. It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present to us: it is the very sign of his presence.”

The Will of God

What is the will of God for you? What does He mean for me to do with my life? What is our goal, our purpose in life?

Of course, the catechism answer is "The chief end of man is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever." But do we even know what that means? Do we know what it looks like? Do we actually know what to do, every day, in order to fulfill our high calling, or do we just say these words and let them, like so many theological terms we know we subscribe to somehow, just float around like so many flies buzzing loopily around the house - impossible to catch or even get a good snapshot of because they are never grounded?

1 Thessalonians 5:18 tells us, "In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."

So simple. And so vast.

Gratitude is what God wants from us. Not sacrifice. Not long prayers. Not putting large offerings in the tithe box, giving our lives to 'full-time Christian work,' or even keeping his commandments. He wants our thanks. Is it any coincidence that in Romans 1, when God gives men over to their lusts, that it is precisely because they did not acknowledge God as God, or give Him thanks?

Giving thanks means that we are humble and that we recognize our beneficiary. We realize we are not enough in and of ourselves, but that someone is giving of themselves to bless us. We realize our smallness, and God's greatness. This is what He wants from us. He wants us to see that the good in our lives is not of ourselves, and to note that it is Him from whom we have all things. And this is how we glorify God and enjoy Him.

This is the will of God for us. And it's why I write lists of things that I am particularly (on a given day) glad to have received from His hand. The world, and all the broken and beautiful and living and dying things in it, are gift.

Do what God asks of you, the thing He wants you to do the most: praise Him.

Someday: London

I maintain that The Pond is too big. It's gonna be a while before I can get there.

I love this poster - fog, fantastic phone booths, the little coffee spot, Big Ben. This would look nice with the black and white Paris poster I already want.

And apparently it's easy to look smashing in London, even in a downpour. Note to self: Be demure. Wear heels. Buy an umbrella.