Why I don't think it's such a big deal

The last couple of weeks as we have gotten closer to Halloween, I have seen multiple Facebook posts and even a few blogs of acquaintances ranting against the celebration of the holiday. Usually they talk about how we are suppose to be as Christians the light of the world, not partaking in darkness, and so they have proudly claimed that they will not partake. They will not celebrate. They will not go to corn mazes and or carve pumpkins. They will not dress in costumes. They will not give out candy.

All of this has bothered me a little bit, but I have mostly ignored it. It's not a subject I am unfamiliar with... as a kid there were plenty of other children in my church that were not allowed to watch Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty because of the magic. But today, on Halloween, as I am sitting in an airport, I have had a little more time to reflect on the issue, and I've decided that I will also give my side of it: Why I don't stand against Halloween.

First of all, I believe extremes are dangerous. When you over-religiousize something it becomes dangerous. Jesus gave us two rules: 1. To love your neighbor as yourself and 2. To love God with your entire heart, body, and soul. That's it. No more legalism. It's not about what you can or cannot do. And I think that when you try to make so many rules, you risk missing the real issues. There are other actions and behavior that occur as a result of following those two rules, but if you are following those two rules whole heartedly, you don't have to worry about it too much... the "other rules" will fall into place naturally. When you are loving others and God sincerely with your whole heart, you don't need to be told to be kind, to be giving, to not judge, to not condemn; you won't need to be told to spend time in prayer or to be told to live a lifestyle that will honor God... these things will occur because it is all that can occur withina whole-hearted devotion.

So one might say : well, then, out of this desire to please God, one should naturally not desire to partake in anything ungodly... anything evil. And I agree with this. As a kid growing up, I trick-or-treated with the best of them... but never as a gory, scary, person. I was always Snow White... or Laura Ingalls from Little House on the Prairie (hahaha)... I do think that children need to be taught that there is a very real good and a very real evil in this world.  And that the evil is a lot more evil than any Lord Voldamort could portray.  I believe that children need to know that there are real witches. And that that there is a real good - a good which will ultimately conquer all. Good wins. So, if by dressing in something fun and good, we are in fact teaching our children to celebrate the good and not the evil, isn't that worth something?

I also think things are a lot of what you make them. For example, even if you celebrate Christmas, you can make it all about Santa Clause and presents or when you celebrate Easter you can make it all about bunnies and eggs... or you can teach them to celebrate the birth and resurrection of Christ. When participating in Trick-or-Treat, one can see it as participating in an evil, scary holiday that celebrates death, or you can teach your kids to celebrate a fun night of dress up and fall fun.  After all, everyone knows that fall is the greatest season and worthy of a fun celebration. Why does going to a corn maze or carving pumpkins have to be seen as something evil? (I don't get that one at all!) Why can't it be a further celebration of fall?

And finally, I think that parents of children need to learn to choose their battles well. There are things worth putting your foot down about. I don't think a dress up party is one of them. My question: if the dress up party was in March and not on October 31st, would it be a big deal to you?  And if not, then why are you making it a big deal now? It's all about the heart...

When I was younger, my dad pastored a church that had very conservative roots. Until I was about 8 or 9 years old, the denomination as a whole had actually condemned the wearing of jewelry. My Mom who had had pierced ears and loved earrings had given her earrings up, as to not make others in the church stumble in their faith. She is an amazing woman, who I respect for her ability to make such a selfless, caring decision for others in her life. As the years had gone on, there had been a trend into this thinking that this was an old fashioned and wrong belief, and people were beginning to relax on the issue, although not totally. About the time I turned 10 or 11, I started really liking jewelry. I had a few plastic pieces although I didn't wear them outside of dress-up. But I REALLY wanted to get my ears pierced. My dad was a pastor of a fairly large church that had a lot of prominent people from the denomination at it... and he knew that me getting my ears pierced might cause him a bit of trouble. My Mom went to him and she said something to the effect of, "If you believe that letting her wear jewelry is really wrong, truly sinful, then you can raise her within these convictions, but if you do not, this is not a battle to choose to fight. You cannot raise her based on the beliefs of others." And so for my 12th birthday, my Dad gave me a birthstone ring... letting me know that jewelry was not something he personally believed was wrong, and he would not hold me to an expectation of a lifestyle based on the beliefs of others. Later that year, I finally got my earrings, and I've been wearing them as long and dangly as possible since. But, later, when my Dad did put his foot down on (other) issues, I didn't have a very hard time respecting his wishes. I had learned that he would only require a behavior of me that he felt strongly about, and because he had chosen his battles, it was a lot easier for me to let him win other bigger ones.

I think Halloween could be the same kind of issues for others.

Teach your children about guarding their hearts. Teach your children about real good and evil. Teach your children that it's not about what you do or do not do as much as in what attitude you do or not do it in...
And let your children be children.  I think a childhood without bobbing for apples, corn mazes, carved pumpkins, hayrides and dress-up would be a very sad childhood indeed.

Murder at the Juice Joint

When I was younger, one of my favorite things to do was play pretend. I especially loved playing pretend in costume.

Some of the most memorable sleepovers that I had were at my close family friend Pat's house. She didn't have children, so she "adopted" me and Erica. Several times, she allowed me to have all of my friends over for a sleepover, and she always provided a stash of fancy gowns and dresses she had worn at company events, as well as plenty of dark lipstick. We would play dress up all night long, each person trying on each different dress. (As a matter of fact, the first time I ever successfully stayed up ALL night -- a huge milestone in my life at the time was at one such sleepover!) The last time we had a dress up party was for my 15th birthday. I guess for a little while after that, we decided we were too old for such activity.

However, in recent years, I've decided you're never too old to play dress up! So last week when my friend Lindsay invited me to a night of play- pretend, I was ecstatic! I thought about it every day until the event and I obsessed over the perfect costume. It was like the anticipation of Christmas. The anticipation is almost as much fun as the actual event!

The party was a 1920s murder- mystery... And I was the murderer! :)
We had so much fun!

Now I'm glad I insisted on keeping all of my old bridesmaid dresses when Van tried to get me to throw them away. I plan on letting Annabelle make good use of them. Cause all little girls and even big girls love to play dress up! :)

Spiced Quinoa Recipe

I really enjoy cooking, but I never ever follow directions exactly by the cookbook. I always add a few spices I like, take away a few spices I don't like or don't have... To me, cooking is the closest I'll ever feel to being a painter... "a dab of this here, a little more color there..."

Since I'm a little skiddish of most meats (and definitely meat that I have cooked, because there is just something about having trimmed every little piece of fat and vein off a piece of meat that even after it is cooked I have no appetite for), I am always looking for good vegetarian recipes that are filling and healthy. Lately I've been trying more rices... and tonight was my second go at quinoa. 

One of the places I get suggestions for recipes from is allrecipes.com.  They usually get me at least steered in the right direction, and so many of their recipes have comments and addendums from various cooks who have also tried the recipes, that I find I can mix and match just the way I like and still end up with a great recipe. 

So tonight, I had boiled 1/2 C of quinoa and bulgur (combo) in 1 C of low sodium chicken broth... but wanting to make it a little less bland, I searched for a quinoa recipe. 

I added a little bit of olive oil (maybe a Tablespoon - by eye), 1 1/2 tsp of curry, 1/2 tsp of cumin, 1/2 tsp of salt, 1/2 tsp of black pepper, 1/4 tsp of cinnamon, a bit of minced garlic (this one I also just threw in there... maybe 1 1/2 Tablespoon), and some onion flakes (again, just whatever fancied me at the moment). I also added a little water (because it had already almost boiled dry by the time I decided to add all of these spices) and let the spices cook with the quinoa for a few more minutes. Then I added a can of drained garbanzo beans and some pine nuts to the finish. If you want an exact recipe rather than my "eye" measurements, you can find it by searching for "spiced quinoa' on allrecipes.com.  I loved it, and so did Van (although it was my main meal, he also had pork tenderloin and other veggies)  I think it would be an easy and excellent lunch during the week, as quinoa is super healthy and full of protein. 

Yummy! And so excited to have a new, simple, fast, and non-meat dish for me!

Ode to a Young Soul

"If you wait for a beautiful day, you'll never go fishing." - Alan Park Russell

You know how they say, "everything happens for a reason"? Well, one thing I think REALLY happened for a reason in mine and Van's life was that we ended up with an address of 345 Saco Street, Westbrook, Maine. For many reasons, I believe this experience was a monumental, life changing, decision... but for today, I'll just stick with one primary reason: Alan.

To begin this story, I will start with the summer of 2007. I had been accepted to the University of New England's nurse anesthesia program, and would be starting classes that fall. Van and I were ecstatic about our new adventure. But first things first: we needed to find a place to live. Mom and I headed to Maine to try and find the perfect little place that he and I would call home for the next 2 and a half years. We looked ALL OVER Portland, South Portland, Westbrook, and Scarborough. We even drove way down to Old Orchard/Biddeford and checked out a few places. All in all, we came up with 3 of serious interest. So when I made my choice to go back to Liberty Commons in South Portland and sign the lease, I was thrilled. Out of the 3, it was definitely my favorite. I had visited it almost last in the home touring, and I felt lucky that I hadn't already signed at another place. So you can imagine the crushing blow I felt, when only 3 or 4 hours after visiting it, I learned that they had just (minutes prior) rented their last top floor condo. I wanted to live here so badly. I could envision myself cooking in the kitchen, studying at the kitchen bar, guests staying in the guest bedroom with the it's extra large guest bathroom... It was "the one". But it was not to be. Van and I had agreed that I would rent whichever I felt was best, with only one request from him: that it be a top floor. He didn't want to have to listen to people walking above us, as we had lived on the bottom floor at our first apartment after marriage -- and it was so irritating. But this place, was so perfect. It was the one! So I called him, and explained how great it was... how the insulation would be so much better... how it wouldn't be as loud as an apartment... and he finally, hesitantly agreed. But afterwards, Mom convinced me that I needed to honor his request... and so I very sadly, went to my second choice and signed a lease. That night I was UPSET. Upset with Mom. Upset with Van. And upset with myself for not signing a lease with Liberty when I had had a chance. I woke up at 2 or 3 in the morning, because I was so bummed about it. I just knew I had made a mistake. I rolled over and huffed loudly... and continued huffing and puffing enough to finally wake Mom up. (Which is sort of what I had been going for.) I became more irritated when she didn't seem to take my frustrations seriously. And so I huffed some more (and I'm ashamed to say) I started to cry. I just knew I had ruined everything and couldn't she care just a little bit?? And then she started with a lecture that I didn't fully understand the extent of it's meaning until much later. She said something to the effect of: "I don't know why you do this! Always second guessing yourself. I've been praying for a place for you all to live since the day you got accepted to school, months ago. I'm sorry you are disappointed, but I believe that God heard my prayers, and I believe that this place we have rented will end up being where He wanted you. Now go to sleep!" :)

A few months later, on July 28, 2007, Van and I locked the door of our Knoxville, Tennessee apartment for the last time, dropped off the keys, and drove out of the complex in a 26 foot Uhaul, with our pathfinder on a trailer pulled in the back. It was one of the most exciting nights of my life. We were headed to Westbrook, Maine.

Over the next few months, Van and I talked about the fact that our time in Maine would go by quickly, so we agreed that we would at least be very intentional with our time. We would do everything "Maine-ish" from start to finish... and so for Christmas, I surprised him with an L.L.Bean fly-rod. He had wanted to learn to fly-fish since he had watched "A River Runs Through It" when he was about ten years old. I have never seen him act so youthfully excited as he did over that fly-rod. It was like the ten year old Van had resurfaced. Daily, he would go and stand in the parking lot of our condo complex and practice casting, although he had no idea what he was doing. He was planning on taking a fly-fishing lesson that has been part of the fly-rod Christmas package I had gotten him, but until then, he would continue playing with the rod.

Just 22 days after we had moved in, an older, retired couple had moved into the complex. One day while Van was standing out by our garage working on his casting, the old man drove by, rolled down his window, and said, "Is that a fly-rod you got there?" (We later learned that he had known very well that it was indeed a fly-rod). Van said it was, and then he asked Van if he was a fly-fisherman. Van said no, but that he wanted to learn. Alan thought for a minute and then said, "I tell you what, if you want to learn, I'll teach you. You come over to my house about 5 o'clock tomorrow."

And so the friendship began. Not a very likely friendship. Alan was 83. Van was 27. But almost every day, Van was over at Alan's, learning how to cast, learning about flies, learning about where to look for trout in a river.

I teased them that I felt like Van was my child. I would get home from my clinicals usually around 4:00. Almost as soon as I had walked in the door, our intercom would be buzzing, Alan wanting to know if Van was home yet. It sounded to my ears like, "Is Van home?? Can he come and play??"... and I would have to say, "No, not yet, but as soon as he gets in, I'll send him over." haha

Over the next 2 years, Alan and Van would fish many ponds and rivers all over the state of Maine. They would take a camping trip to Northern Maine - 6 hours into the middle of nowhere, they would even go on a guided fishing tour. It was a friendship where Alan, a life-long fisherman, passed on his knowledge to someone who desperately appreciated it, and where Van gave Alan the ability to feel needed and important again.

One of Van's favorite things about Alan was his stories (which he was full of). He often started them out with,"I'm the luckiest guy on earth -- and it all started when I got bit by a cobra in World War II..." He was also full of one-liners that kept you thinking. One of our favorites was, "If you wait for a beautiful day, you'll never go fishing." And he lived in such a way... not waiting for tomorrow to do the things he wanted to do today. Even well into his 80s, he was always ready for the next adventure. He never stopped dreaming and he never stopped planning. He truly was a young soul.

Alan got sick with cancer shortly after we moved to Texas. In February of 2010 (after moving in November of 2009), we headed back to Maine to say our goodbyes, as we realized how aggressive his cancer was. He was in good spirits, and Van took him on his last trip up to Freeport to get some flies at LL Bean. In June, he passed away. This past summer, we had the honor of going with his wife, Rose Marie and his daughter out on a lobster boat to spread his ashes. It was exactly the kind of beautiful Maine day that would have invigorated his soul and left him longing for his fly-rod. A unique and special way to remember a unique and special man.

One of the first pics of Alan and Van. They had just finished putting the canoe on top of the pathfinder, preparing for the next day's fishing trip. Alan would always complain that I took my pictures too far away... that I needed to make the subject closer. I was remedying that with this picture... close up and personal. :)

Our first Thanksgiving away from "home"... we invited some friends, including Alan and Rose Marie over for a traditional Southern breakfast, complete with homemade biscuits. 

Van was teaching Alan and Rose Marie about facebook, as we had signed them up with an account to stay in touch with us once we left for Texas.

One of our last photos of the 4 of us... this was our last night as residents of Maine. 

Alan on his fishing-weekend-trip with Van to Washington County in Northern Maine

Our lives were forever changed because of Alan and his wife Rose Marie. I, for one, am a better photographer, Van is a better fly-fisherman, and we both are just better at life... trying to remember not to wait for a beautiful day to fish... or anything else for that matter. We really try to live in the present.  And just think, we would have missed it all if I had gotten the Liberty Commons condo that I wanted... So glad we ended up on Saco Street in Westbrook, Maine.  I guess things really do work out for a reason. :)

A little piece of Texas

Van and I have been married 6 years. We have lived in two apartments, one condo, the basement of another couple's home, and two rental houses. Six addresses. The one thing we have refused to do is to buy a house. We were just never "ready" to add that responsibility to our lives, and perhaps a little commitment phobic.

This summer (middle of May), our landlord at "1214", as we refer to our first home here in Texas, decided that he wanted to sell the house. We were enjoying living there, and we had FINALLY gotten it just the way we wanted. Very homey and cozy. I had even started working on the outside patio because the inside was pretty much just where I wanted it. We thought there would be no way the house would sell.  1.) The owner wanted too much money for it. He had bought just before the recession, and so he didn't want to budge on his price. 2) Although we loved our house (and thought it was super cute), it was in a neighborhood where ALL of the houses from the outside looked almost exactly the same. I just didn't feel that there was anything that would set it apart to make it a desirable home (besides my cute staging of it, of course - haha) 3.) He had tried to sell it a couple of times before and never succeeded. But less than 6 weeks into having placed it on the market, and on my first day of an 8 day vacation in Maine, a man and his wife came for a showing and as soon as it was over called and offered cash to the owner. CASH!!??!!

Just that week I had said to Van that I thought we had "made it".  We'd been hoping that we would not have to move until at least October, and so as it was the last week in June, we figured that if anyone bought it, we'd have to wait on financing and such so we would probably have 60 days at least... maybe 90. That would have been all of July, all of August, and maybe at least some of September. But against all odds, the house not only sold that first week of July, because the buyer paid cash (and we didn't have to wait on financing), we had 30 days to be out... 8 of which were being spent in Maine.

Stress doesn't even describe those 3 and a half weeks. We had no idea what to do. Every rental we looked at wanted us to sign a year lease. (Which we definitely did not want to do!), and there was no way we had enough time to even consider buying. But as luck would have it, some family friends of our parents who had been living in San Antonio for the last 11 or 12 years, were accepting a job in North Carolina. They were moving around the same time that we were needing to be out, and they kindly offered to let us live in their home, pay the same rent we had been paying (in our much smaller) previous home, without a lease, until we could figure something out. What a God-send and blessing they were to us!

So over the last 4 months, we have been trying to figure out what to do. We didn't want to unpack and settle in our current rental house, because our friends really want to sell it, and we didn't want to be in the same position in a few months that we were in with our last house, but living amongst boxes and disorganization began to wear on our nerves rather quickly. So it would seem the best solution would be to move into a more permanent housing situation. But we didn't want to go through the hassle of moving to ANOTHER rental... what's the point in that?... (it is like that, "There's a hole in my bucket, Dear Liza, Dear Liza!" song - just a vicious cycle!)  So after a lot of thought, we decided to look into buying a house -- and to at least consider taking advantage of the great buyer's market/low mortgage rates currently offered.

We spent 3 full days over a period of 2 and a half weeks looking at almost 30 homes. Our realtors set us up with this automatic email/website that looked for houses in specific areas and in certain price ranges... we probably went through more than 150 homes online... marking ones we were interested in, ones that may work, and then the ones we were not interested in. It was a little daunting, and I never felt especially thrilled about any. UNTIL, I saw one on Moselle Forrest in Helotes (a suburb of San Antonio) this past Saturday. We originally were not even considering The Helotes/West San Antonio area because as we have always lived in the North/east part of San Antonio, we felt like staying in this area would be easy... moving to another part of the city is like moving to a brand new city. In a city that spans an hour from one end to the next, a move of even five or ten minutes means changing grocery stores, changing gyms, etc. etc. But, in order to not limit ourselves, we had decided to look at a few homes in this area. I loved it from first sight! I loved the layout, all of the little details, even the builder happened to be my favorite builder (we first looked at houses a year ago, but decided to wait. During that time, I decided I liked "Ryland" homes....which this house happens to be.) It was like it was meant to be...

So, we made an offer on Tuesday, and after a few counter offers and re-counter offers, last night, while I was watching the Romney/Obama debate, Van called to tell me that we had come to an agreement with the sellers... that we were about to own a little piece of Texas.

We are very excited!  It's a new phase for us... :)

And we will soon be ready for visitors!  We are suppose to be closing in 21 days... Who will be our first guests??????

I don't have any pictures available to post on this blog just yet, but if you want to see, message me or Facebook me or email me and I will send you the link to the realtor's website!  And I'll post pictures AS SOON as I have some. :)

"On the Road Again, I Just Can't Wait to Get on the Road Again!"

I think I could argue that the song "On the Road Again" has been the theme song of my life. I remember vividly, as a small child living in Knoxville, TN my parents singing those lyrics when we would get in the car. And as I grew up, they passed on their love of adventuring, and I've spent most of my life traveling around like a "band of gypsies" (as the song says).

So Thursday this past week I was so excited to get to hear that song live, from Willie himself at Floore's Country Store!

Floore's is an example of what I find to be one of the coolest parts of Texas. It's a little shack-like building that has an outdoor backyard area with a stage. They have live music and two-stepping, and a lot of people wearing boots. :) And on weekends, they often have big name singers come for concerts.

My friend Claire, her husband Tom, and my friend Jenna and I headed off to see Willie. This crazy 79 year old, didn't even come out until 10:00 p.m.! But when he did, it was well worth the wait! We were so incredibly impressed with his strong voice. You would never ever dream he was so old! Just as impressive was his piano player, his older (by 2 years) sister! She was AMAZING. Jenna and I were so impressed kept googling (ahhh, the joys of a smart phone) more information on her and Willie all throughout the concert. By the end of it, we might as well have known them their whole lives. :)

It was such a great experience to be in the audience of a legend! I think he played all of his big hits, and even a few old gospel hymns: "I'll fly away" and "I saw the Light" (two of the only ones that Jenna and I knew ALL the words to -- haha)

I have decided that 50 years from now, when I am 79, I will be equally as cool... maybe I need to add guitar lessons to my goal list.

If I find in myself a desire...

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."
                                                                                         -C.S. Lewis

I think C.S. Lewis was pure genius, and the above quotes is one of my favorites of his. It's been on my Facebook "favorite quote" page for years, now - so it officially makes it a favorite. :)

Last Saturday I had my first good cry in a long time. I use to love to cry when I was stressed, but somewhere along the line, I decided it just ate into the little time I had and since usually part of my problem was not having enough hours in the day to accomplish all of the other stressful events in my life, a "good cry" would only make me feel more stressed in the end, when I realized I was without even as much time as I had before I started the good cry. (Very analytical reasoning for no longer crying. haha)

But last Saturday the floodgates opened.

I have been feeling so overwhelmed and joyless lately. And so lonely. You know that "lonely in a crowd" kind of thing, because I am certainly surrounded with a montage of friends and supporters.

I thought how some people might find this incredulous. I have TONS of friends. I have so many friends that sometimes my friends tell me I have too many friends. People always say, "You make friends so easily!" My friend Lauren says, "everyone wants to be best friends with my best friend, Jessica." I've been in about 2 trillion weddings (not really... only like 12)... I was the maid of honor in 3 of those weddings... I always have a birthday party or some event to go to. When I go to visit Tennessee my family complains that I "keep the roads hot" as I drive all over the state meeting up with all of my friends. Really what it boils down to was that I made my relationships and my social life my main priority for many years. And I believe in loyalty and friendships to the death... and so I have developed over 29 years, many life-long friendships. And yet, despite it all, I have felt lately completely and totally alone. Isolated. Without a friend. Friendless. Totally unloved. Distant. Not because my friends are bad and have abandoned me... it's just where I have been mentally and emotionally. 

I get together with a group of 4 other girls on Tuesday nights. It's a very intimate and personal time, where we discuss everything from an upcoming wedding to our deepest hearts thoughts. I love this group, and I feel that God has blessed me so much by placing me in it. Usually on these nights, we have a list of 4 or 5 questions that we go through to sort of encourage us to open up. They are something like the following: "What was something this past week that re-energized you? What was something this week that deflated you?" etc. This Tuesday our second question of the night was something to the effect of: What was something this week that made you experience a little bit of heaven? (i.e. left you thinking that we are made not just for this world.)

All of the girls had some really great answers... things that spoke joy into one's heart. Things like sunsets that light up the sky, as if it were a canvas of spattered, beautiful paint. Or the experience of the love of a small, child in all of it's innocence and joy. I knew immediately what my answer was. And it wasn't a feel good that had created it -- although I've certainly had those.

I shared how I had been feeling. How I had felt this extreme loneliness despite my complete surrounding of friends, and how that I believed that this was a known phrase ("lonely in a crowd") because it was a common concept... something that almost everyone had felt at one point or another. This feeling, I believe has a deeper root - a deeper significance. I believe it comes from the separation we have had from God, since the fall of man with Adam. I believe, that our desire to be intimately known, intimately loved and yet unfulfilled by the thousands of people and things we fill our lives with is because that the only person that can fulfill this desire completely is God. This feeling, although not a fun experience, had left my craving God. It had left me desiring heaven. It had left me wanting more of a relationship with Jesus. It had shown me that I was not meant for this world alone, and thus I could not find my worth, happiness, or fulfillment in this world. 

It reiterated in my real life the meaning of the quote by C.S. Lewis that I love so much. I have in myself a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy... and it reminds me that there is more for me than just this world. What a wonderful, awesome, exciting, hopeful and refreshing thing to be reminded of. 

Learning to LOVE

Just in case you didn't know it, my dad is probably the wisest man on the planet. :) And he is especially good about pointing out the things that most of us overlook in scriptures. One of his sermons that has stuck with me through the years came out of Luke 5:12-16.  It says:

"And it happened when He was in a certain city, that a man who was full of leprosy saw Jesus; and he fell on his face and implored Him, saying "Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean." Then He (Jesus) put out His hand and touched him, saying, "I am willing; be cleansed." (and) Immediately the leprosy left him."

The point that my Dad had made in his sermon that I loved was that Jesus reached out His hand and He touched him, this leper that no one had touched for probably many years. Throughout the gospels of Jesus' life, there are many miracles recorded. And most of them involve no physical contact by Jesus - simply His words.  He certainly could have done the same in this situation, and the leper would have been just as healed. But Jesus full of compassion and love, touched the untouchable. This man probably had not felt the touch or caress of a human being for many years, and oh the longing he must have felt. Jesus saw the individual need of a man, and He met it. 

Wednesday, a case from OR 19 got moved into OR 14 -- my room for the day. I definitely was unhappy about it. I had just finished my cases, and was looking forward to a few minutes of downtime, but the thing that made me the most unhappy was that while I was reading about the patient's history (before his arrival), I read that he had AIDS, Hepatitis C, Hepatitis B, and possibly TB. He was a heroin and cocaine addict, and he had multiple problems with his heart. My first thoughts were, "Grrrrrrrreat! Just great." I actually said a prayer that somehow this case would get canceled. To say I did not want to do it, would  have been a huge understatement. As I was thinking these negative thoughts about this man, my heart was pricked and I was convicted at my judgmental and condescending attitude toward this man I had yet to meet. I felt as if God was reminding me that if I am to be like Him, then I must love the lepers of my day. I must touch the unclean. I must do my best to love those that He loves. 

As I was feeling this conviction on my attitude, I felt further convicted as God reminded me of my trip to Nigeria. I was willing to travel 30-something hours and live in horrible conditions for a week in order to provide aid and care to Nigerians. Earlier this week, even, I had been looking at participating in another mission to South America this next spring. It was like God was saying to me, "So you will do it when it's a cool medical mission... you'll put up with it when it is something that appears adventurous and exciting... you'll post pictures on Facebook, and remember it with fondness.... but here I am bringing you someone who needs help just as badly, and you don't want to do it."  When it's behind the scenes, when almost no one will know, realize, or care, am I guilty of thinking it's "less than" the other opportunities of love? Do I fail to serve God in my daily life, waiting for the right time, waiting for a "real" mission? 

As I waited, and thought about these things, I asked God to forgive me for my lack of love, and by His grace, my heart began to hurt for this man, as the others waiting on him to arrive, began to verbalize things that only 30 minutes earlier I had been thinking. 

When he arrived, I felt such a compassion for him. It was his birthday. He was too young to be so sick. So many bad decisions. I felt a hurt for him and a love for him, because I was trying to see Him the way that God sees him. It ended up that there were some things that needed to be worked out before we could proceed, and so I ended up being left alone with him in the OR for almost an hour. Usually, in cases like this, I sit behind the head of the bed, just so the patient can snooze, and so I can avoid chatting, but wanting to learn to be like Jesus, I pulled up a stool and sat by his bed. I reached out and touched his hand and told him that I had prayed for his surgery to go well. (He was very nervous) (and I really had because I had been really nervous about putting such a sick individual under anesthesia). I listened to him talk about his sister and his mom... I did my best to just love him compassionately.

I do not tell this to toot my own horn. So many times I have passed on other such opportunities. But I tell it because, it was a defining moment where I really realized how hard and uncompassionate my heart can be. And when God showed me these things, I didn't want to ever forget it. Maybe writing it will help me to practice it more. And maybe it will help a reader see the easy-to-miss opportunities for love in his or her life. 

I think we as Americans often think that we need to do something grand in order to make a difference. We need to move to another country, or we at least need to travel to another country. We need to have an important job. etc. etc. But that's not true... I wasn't even doing "my job" when I was reaching out to this man. I wasn't providing anesthesia at the time... I was just sitting there. 

French Onion Soup

In my last post, I told how I had managed to chop 5 onions with almost no eye burning. (CHEW GUM!) So now that you know that... I guess you're ready to chop some onions! 

I had never made French onion soup until YESTERDAY, but Van loved it -- and he especially loved it in a baked bread bowl, covered with melted gruyere cheese. His exact words were, "this is a meal fit for company". haha (My country boy...)

So here's a picture of my finished product, followed by the recipe.  

(Pinterest-inspired) French Onion Soup 

INGREDIENTS

3	pounds yellow onions, cut into 1/8-inch pieces (I used 5 onions)
3	tablespoons unsalted butter
1/2	teaspoon table salt, plus more as needed
1	pinch sugar (my pinch = 1/2 teaspoon)
8	cups water , plus more as needed
1	tablespoon all-purpose flour (i didn't have any, so I used self-rising and it worked just fine)
1	sprig fresh thyme
1/4	cup dry white wine
1	baguette , crusty (I bought a round sourdough bread, cut out the center and baked to make crusty)
8	ounces Gruyère cheese-I sliced it thick and placed it over the top of the top of the bread bowl…..the cheese melted mostly into the soup and a little off to the sides, but it created a thick, even layer this way.

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Melt butter in a large Dutch oven or soup pot over medium heat.
2. Add the onions, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and sugar. Toss to evenly coat.
3. Cover and cook for 10 minutes.
4. Take the cover off, and cook, stirring frequently, until the onions are lightly browned.  I cooked mine for a little less than 90 minutes.
5. At this point, stir every 5 minutes and add water (a tablespoon at a time to loosen up the dark brown stuff that forms on the bottom of the pan).
6. Continue to cook until the onions are an even dark brown color, an additional 30 minutes longer or so.
7. Add the flour and stir for two minutes.
8. Add 8 cups water and thyme to the onions and bring to a boil.
9. Lower heat  and simmer for 20 minutes.
10. Add white wine and simmer 10 minutes longer.
11. Add salt to taste.

For the bread bowl:

1. I heated oven to 350 degrees F
2. I had bought a round piece of sourdough like bread in the bakery at my grocery store. I cut a hole in the center and hollowed it out. I baked the bread for about 8 minutes... until I thought it was crispy enough. Then I poured some warm soup into the bread bowl, placed a slice of gruyere cheese over the top and placed it back in the oven on broil for an additional 5 minutes (until cheese was melted). 
3. Cool before serving. :)                                                                           

No more tears

On my first smart phone I had this cool app that was a random fact giver. The most useful fact that I learned from the app was that if you chew gum while cutting onions, your eyes won't tear. Since I read it, I ALWAYS chew gum while chopping onions and it definitely works! Yesterday as I was preparing to make my first ever French onion soup, I decided it would be a great opportunity to do an unofficial home study: How many onions can I cut without tears? I made it to the fifth onion before I had any burning... But by this point my gum was also losing it's flavor, which leads me to believe that I need to do a follow up study to see if a longer lasting gum will lead to longer chopping time. But as most people only chop up an onion or two at one time, I recommend you try it next time! Let me know if it works for you... I'll add the results to my study! Haha