The Loved Adulteress

I was asked to give my testimony this week, and after struggling to put into words my love story with my savior, this is what finally came out.

The Loved Adulteress

At the age of three I was marked

For His kingdom- the daughter of the king

In my heart, the Spirit sparked

And I responded to His call with bended knee

Within He placed a heart for song

And the desire to praise my King

Life was hard yet still I clung

To the One who had set me free

But one day the pain went deep

And fear through my heart did seep

And although His praises were on my tongue

In my heart to other’s I sung

I was looking for value and love

In those around – in man

You see I am the adulterous woman

When even though she had loves embrace

Chose to look into another’s face

Yet He stood by, faithful and true

Waiting for me to see His gentle clue

That my value is in Him alone

And no matter where I looked

I was left feeling empty and alone

Despite ever growing fear,

He gently whispered in my ear

“Come my daughter, I am right here”

So I responded again to His call

As deep calls to deep, my spirit lives

And in Him I know there is truth

That He is mine and I am His

The struggles have not left me yet

Still I get confused and my eyes fall

But when I quiet my soul

There is His gentle voice, calling me

Our story is of love so deep and true

That it has withstood the test

Of one who is unfaithful at best

But it is not over by far

Because it is by His grace I am here at all.

180 Degrees: New Perspective New Life

Since I can remember, I have been one of those people that likes to have my hardships acknowledged. I have the need for people to recognize my struggles. It isn't excuses; it is the need to have someone praise my effort more than the result. I know why, too. Praise was rarely given in my home. Instead of a sincere gratitude for the effort that was put in, my attempts at all life was rewarded with the same response: "Look at what you could have done if you had applied yourself better." I called it the white glove syndrome. I could spend hours cleaning something with a tooth brush, and the one small spot that was missed would be noticed. And yes, I have specific instances that are seared in my mind. The result: paralysis. The mode: fear. FEAR is what began to rule every area of my life.

The question is begging to be asked. How can something as simple as not receiving enough affirmation result in fear paralyzing your entire life? It is in the bleed. Like the corner of a napkin on a punch spill, a parched soul soaks up what ever it is watered by. My soul was watered by fear.

So much of life is about effort. We are fallen beings in a fallen world. We do not have hope of ever accomplishing anything of our own effort because our best is as "dirty rags" (Isaiah 64:6 and Romans 3:23). So our natural response, or at least mine, is to search for recognition for our effort. Since we can't accomplish perfection, at least we can be recognized for trying. And so my psyche was formed. As a young child my response to lack of praise was that I would try my hardest. But even that was not enough. I was parched; I was starving. And then the fear that was already prevalent in my life from other circumstances began to bleed in. Why try? It won't be enough anyway. I was afraid to fail. But worse than failing was my fear of succeeding. Because with success came a new standard I would be held to and even more would be expected from me; a much scarier possibility.

So how does one respond to such an overwhelming fear? Excuses, of course. My rationale goes like this: If they knew my hardships, my adversities, all that I've worked through to get this far then they can forgive my imperfections. If people only knew the effort I have put into this, then they would love me, accept me, praise me; then my thirsty soul would finally drink.

And so I have lived, balancing the need for acknowledgment with a fear of failing. Balancing between a fear that paralyzes and the need to accomplish perfection. The result: running in place - going nowhere. And so I thirst, grabbing onto every drop of praise or anything like it I can find. Clinging on for dear life. Praying for rain, but looking for it from the smog instead of the clouds.

You see the reality looks very different on the outside. My thirst and longing for praise resulted in explanation and excuses - a soul begging for water from my perspective. But the actual observer interprets it as complaining and pride. The usual response to my thirst: criticism or disdain? No, worse: rejection - salt on a thirsty, dry, wounded soul. And so as the salt was poured on, the search for water grew more intense. The route for search did not change though and thus the cycle of my thirsty soul sits. Yes, the watering has been there. Otherwise, I would be dead. But the rainfall, the wellspring, life, I thirstily long for and wait for. Search for.

And then, after years of dehydration, I stumbled on the answer. In a book about gratitude. A book I have been trying to read through for the past year. On a night when I am supposed to be "working". I read it:

       A lifestyle of intentional gratitude became an unintentional test in the trustworthiness of God - and in counting blessings I stumbled upon the way out of fear.

                                                                              Anne Voskamp 

There it was on page 151 in One Thousand Gifts. By counting my struggles I was actually complaining and by complaining I was telling God he was untrustworthy. My fear had resulted in complaining, and the only way to overcome the fear, to free myself from the paralyzation and thirst was to do the opposite. To count my blessings. To say thanks. To acknowledge that it isn't me, that I can't do it myself and my effort isn't enough and that that is OK. When I take my eyes off of what I "have suffered", off my struggle and look at what He has done, what He has suffered and say THANK YOU, I am suddenly free.

I believe that when I get rid of fear and focus on the blessings that he gives I will be free to recieve the praise, love and acceptance that I have been offered. Since fear paralyzes trust, then I will be free to trust what He says when He says "I LOVE YOU".

And what does He say to me tonight:

Restrain your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears; For your work will be rewarded..." Jeremiah 31:16

The verse I just happened to open to tonight. And so 180 degrees later, I say thank you, for my blessings are many. My daily struggles are no longer laundry to be aired, they are the chance for me to look at my blessings and see the good He has done. And from there I will be free from the need for your or anyone else's praise or acceptance. Oh, may my soul quench its thirst in the only true water that is (John 4:14)

If you are interested in the book by Anne Voskamp please visit her website. Although I have only gotten to page 151, I have to say that her thoughts challenge at the core of who you are and your view of life and Christianity in all the right ways. http://www.aholyexperience.com

Same Story. Same Pain... Different Outcome. Stronger Repellant.

    Today I saw some pictures that reminded me of family favoritism. It amazes me that even today, I'm thirty and my husband is 33, I see the same dynamics in our families as we experienced growing up. The strange part is that now the favoritism is bleeding into our children. As much as it hurts to see, from years of pain, I have come to the point where I can say "C'est la vie... their loss."

    It is hard to explain favoritism to someone unless they have been on the unfavored side. I have found very few people who truly understand the dynamic.  I can't tell you how relieving it is when I am around someone who not only understands, but actually sees it without me having to explain (those friends are very close indeed). I have also found that the favored one's blame it all on perspective. Having not received the "unfavor," their eyes don't even pick up the subtleness of favoritism. I used to be angry at them for not seeing it. Now I count them blessed.

    Thankfully, I married someone who knows well the "joys" of the unfavored side and can support me. Sadly, it also means that I walked from one family of pain and rejection into another. The wounds, just healing from years of my own walk on the outside, have been violently gashed open, then subtly picked at and salted.

     But as the wounds scab over and the healing process continues I watch as the same people who have favored our siblings over us inadvertently favor their kids over ours. It is small things, ones I pray our children never pick up. I pray that their eyes are blind to these subtle behaviors because they have not been opened by my own favoritism. As I parent, I am ever aware of my heart, my frustrations and behaviors. I do not seek to be fair or even, but instead to love each one whole heartedly for who they are.     To take joy in their differences, embrace their unique gifts and gently mold their quirky weaknesses. Are there days where I am closer to one than the others? Yes, but I take it in stride knowing that by tomorrow, that same difficult child will be the one helping me as I grin and bear the quirks of another. My heart's desire is that they are oblivious to favoritism because they are so secure in my husband's and my love for them, that the nuances of the moment are just that... momentary - not something that affects their core. 

    So, as I see those subtle behaviors, I take a deep breath. I look at my children. And I remember, that I am here. I get to be with them. I get to watch their differences, I get to experience their unique gifts and I am bound to deal with their quirky weaknesses at all moments. In ending the cycle, I find healing from my wounds. In healing, I find strength. And in strength, I am less easily wounded. Ending the cycle gives hope, and hope is my repellant.

A Thousands Words - Otherwise Known as My Therapy Session

It started soon after the birth of my firstborn. After he fell asleep, I would steal into the office, slump into the uncomfortable chair a watch the screen saver - pictures of our little baby. My husband would walk in minutes later and find himself mesmerized as well. Sometimes we would sit there for 20 or more minutes. And as we sat there, the weight of the day would begin to melt away, our hearts would begin to mend, and we would remember what was important and actually kind of like our little boy.
See, in the craziness of they day, between the loads of laundry, dishes, feedings, changings, bills, yard work, projects, crying and whatever else went on, it was easy to loose sight of what mattered. It didn't help that I was averaging 4 hours of sleep total, usually in 30 minute intervals, a day, breastfeeding on average 9  hours a day and dealing with a kid that wouldn't sleep. Let's just say I wasn't to thrilled with my bundle of joy by the time I was ready for bed.
But some how, looking at the pictures was like salve on my wounds. And afterwords, I was ready to face another sleepless night. Five years, and two kids later, and it still works. The tasks have only increased, but somehow, the effect is the same. Seeing their smiles, their scrunchy noses or the playful poses reminds me of how unique, precious and amazing they are. And most important, that they are worth every bit of stress, exhaustion, and frustration.
So, I thought I would share some of my therapy with you... in a thousand words...

Life is Real- Chocolate Chip Cookies Make it Better

My kitchen floor is covered in brown spots, I have a mat in the laundry because a child pooped on it, the kitchen sink has dishes from breakfast and last night, and I have a laundry list of things to do, so when I ask my daughter what she wants to do today and she says, "make cookies," of course that is exactly what we did. We baked cookies.
You see life never stops. I have spent too much time looking around the bend, saying next week will be easier, next month won't be so busy or next year I'll be able to do that, and well it hasn't happened. Life just seems to fill up quicker than I can... well fill up. Finding time to eat is almost impossible. Finding moment's of rest or time to recharge are few and far between. So, there are time's that I need that quick pick me up. Something that feels good, that cheers up my spirit and fuels me to go on. What could possibly be better than a chocolate chip cookie to do just that?
"Ooh,  ooh, pick me. Pick me! I know!" How about cookies that taste like heaven and are actually healthy. It is not possible they say. I say it is!

You see I am a snob... a food snob. When I make things, I usually have a long lists of must and must nots that every recipe is scrutinized by before I will even consider making it. For instance, with cookies, I want them to be low sugar, low fat, whole grain, soft and chewy and well... I still want them to taste good. As if the list wasn't hard enough to accomplish, now that we reduced our intake of eggs and dairy, I am even more limited. To my absolute surprise... and I really mean absolute surprise, because I usually end up giving up or just making it up as I go, I actually found a recipe that met most of those. Ok, so I'm not perfect. I still totally tweaked it to make it fit our needs. But the concept is still there. And in my opinion the result is even better.  Cookies that you can drop everything to bake, because when are doing all the stuff you should have been doing, grabbing one of these baby's to help you get through it all will be worth it. And yes, after trying to bake cookies with a one year old and a three year old, that is exactly what I needed. A little pick me up as I swept the floor for the third time and watched my daughter eat spoonfuls of baking soda. Good times - real life. 

But the smiles she gave while eating them... even better than the cookies.

Oh, and by the way. Family secret- double the batch and throw half in the freezer. Then you will have tasty pick me ups even when you can't drop it all and bake these cookies.

My Helper

Chocolate Chip Oatmeal Cookies 

1/4 cup coconut oil, melted
1/4 + 3 Table spoons apple sauce
1/3 cup honey
1 Tbs Vanilla Extract
1 cup whole wheat flour ( I like white whole wheat)
2 Tbs ground flax seeds
1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 cup rolled oats
1/3 cup chocolate chips





Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine wet ingredients in a bowl. Add flour, flax, cinnamon, salt, and soda and stir just until combined. Fold in oats and chocolate chips. Drop by rounded tablespoon onto a cookie sheet (I bake mine on a baking mat) and press down slightly. Bake for approximately 12 minutes or until they look firm and the edges begin to brown. Cool on a wire rack.

Comfort food without the guilt

Have you ever noticed that all comfort food is really... really... REALLY bad for you! Let's just name a few: macaroni and cheese, baked potato soup, fried chicken, meatloaf, mashed potatoes, apple pie and one of my favorites, broccoli soup. Every one of these is loaded with either sugar, fat or processed flours. Thus the reason we so often feel heavy with calories and guilt after eating them.
The funny thing, is that a lot of the comfort foods start out with healthy ingredients. So why is it that pasta with a sprinkle of cheese, grilled chicken, lean beef, baked potatoes, an apple, or steamed broccoli aren't comforting? Is is possible that at the true comfort foods are sugar, fat and processed food? I don't know many people that would feel comforted if I set a cube of fat and sugar on their plate when they were blue and would think "yeah for me".
So now the question that has to be asked, is how do we put the "food" back into comfort food. I've been struggling with this lately as I have been craving broccoli soup.
I used to not like broccoli, till I learned how good it was for you, and forced myself to like it. Now I have learned to actually enjoy it, in certain contexts. My favorite is broccoli soup. I used to think that I did a pretty good job of making it too... with lower fat milk and well ok... I put a cup of cheese in it. There isn't any way that it was good for me. But it was sooo good, and as I ate it, it made me happy. It truly was comforting.
But now, as we have tried to change our food choices to less animal proteins I look at my once favorite soup as a trap. How was I to fulfill my craving for creamy goodness  with something that actually had goodness in it?
My first attempt was so terrible that I actually sent it home with my in-laws (God bless them, they will eat anything). I had tried to recreate the soup's creaminess with pureed cashews and the result felt nutty, chalky and heavy. So it was back to the drawing board.
Actually, I had put the whole thing on the back burner, and stumbled across my broccoli soup fulfillment on complete accident. After buying a beautiful  cauliflower, some broccoli and leeks at my local farmer's market I realized that I had no idea how I was going to use them. At first I planned on a casserole, but when I realized that I would need the oven to bake my bread, a soup was the next best thing. So, with a fridge full of vegetables and a stiff upper lip (I haven't been the most successful lately so I had to put on my brave face), I began to create.
Oh, so glad I did. The soup was amazing. Comforting and creamy, full of broccoli flavor but without the weighed down feeling... Oh, maybe that's because there isn't a single thing in it that could remotely cause guilt. YES, I did it. I made comfort food that made me feel light as a feather, yet surprisingly grounded at the same time. Ha... sounds like I am talking about a recreational drug not soup. But then again. Comfort food is just that- recreational drugs we use to lift our spirits and ground us at the same time. And if by chance you become addicted to this soup, don't feel guilty. It's good for you.

Broccoli Leek Soup

1 Large Leek, thinly sliced (onions would work if you don't have any leeks)
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 small head broccoli, chopped
1/2 a small cauliflower, chopped
5 small potatoes, cut in bite size pieces
3 stalks celery, thinly sliced
2 tsp vegetable bullion
1 tsp oil
Water
Salt and pepper to taste

In a large pot, sauté leeks and celery until tender. Add garlic cook till fragrant. Toss in broccoli, cauliflower, and potatoes. Fill the pan with water until vegetables are just covered. Cook until the broccoli and cauliflower begin to fall apart when stirred.  Add vegetable bullion and stir. Place 1/3 of soup in a blender and blend till smooth, then return to pot. Stir together and add fresh ground black pepper and salt to taste.

Crusty Artisan Style Whole Wheat Bread (That even a kid could make)

If I told you that you could make bread that tasted better than the store would you try it?  What if I told you that it would be easier to make than to go to the store and buy? Now are you interested? 
As a mother of three children, I have learned that somethings are worth the extra effort, other's not so much. For instance, homemade bread. Ton's of effort... not worth it, or so I thought. This recipe forever changed my view of bread. It's simplicity and ease makes it actually easier than going to the store to buy bread. I know what you are thinking. Wasn't this the same person who just a month ago was spouting off about how the extra money was worth just buying the bread rather than the sore aching arms she had to deal with after her first loaf?
Well, the sad news is, that it was me. The good news is that I didn't give up and stumbled across the most amazing, easy, tasty bread. After reading about Jim Lahey's technique in the New  from Sullivan Street Bakery I played around a bit and simplified it even more. Sorry Jim, I think this recipe may have just put a whole lot of baker's job's on the line. 


Just like the pizza dough, the key to this bread is the slow rise. With hardly any yeast, and my favorite no sugar, dairy or other strange ingredients that go into bread, you really get to enjoy the flavor of the wheat. Even better is the crispy crackly crust. Yes, all three C's are in this one. The first time I pulled it out of the oven, I squeezed it and listened to the "symphony of crackle".


Slow-Rise Whole Grain Bread
   (adapted from Jim Lahey's recipe)

3 cups Whole Wheat Flour ( I used TJ's White Whole Wheat)
1/4 tsp heaping regular yeast
1 1/4 tsp salt
1 3/4 cups ( I used more like 2 cups) luke warm water

Pour warm water in a bowl and sprinkle with yeast to proof. Then mix flour and salt in and stir. The dough should resemble a wet/drop biscuit dough so you may need to add more water (The whole wheat flour requires more water than regular flour). Cover bowl and let sit 12-18 hours. Pour into a greased baking dish (I used a round corningware casserole with olive oil but a heavy cast iron pan is preferred).  Let rise 1-2 hours. Bake 450 for 30 minutes covered and 15-30 minutes uncovered (takes longer depending on how moist the dough was). The bread is done when it sounds hollow when tapped. Cool on a wire rack. 


That's it! Give it a try. Last week I added some roasted garlic and rosemary right before putting int the baking dish. It was delicious.