Happy Go Stuckey

Tethering Grace & Togetherness

What I Learned in the Spring

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“Is the spring coming?” he said. “What is it like?”…

“It is the sun shining on the rain and the rain falling on the sunshine…”

― Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

Here we are, already buying sunscreen en masse and shuffling the pool towels from the dryer to the pool bag and then back to the dryer again. I love the splashy, drippy, days of summer.

But before we dive in, let’s pay homage to our spring lessons, both the fun and the semi-serious. I absolutely feel as though we just shared our Winter lessons yesterday. Here’s that list if you missed it.

So here are four things I learned in the Spring–

I have become a plant lady. 

I’m not sure why I waited so long to welcome house plants into our life. One day, the Nester had an instagram post about how she waters her plants. It was completely un-fancy and un-complicated and she convinced me I could do it. I finally did and I love my little plant friends. Fingers crossed for continued growth and life. (Bonus tip: HomeGoods is the place for pretty planters.)

 

Tomato plants should be watered at the soil level and not as much on the leaves. 

I definitely did not know this. I always watered from overhead because it makes the leaves look pretty and apparently– the least amount of time the leaves can be wet, the better. Rain water is different, and is preferable to hose water. Who knew? We do enjoy summer tomatoes around here– especially in Caprese Salad. (Bonus Tip: grab a bottle of balsamic glaze for the top of your salad. yum.)

I also learned the magic bullet for keeping cut hydrangeas alive for at least a week!

 

An Audible narrator can make or break a listening experience, especially for a classic. 

Audible is one of our favorite things, both for homeschool and for myself personally. I recently listened to Anne of Green Gables with Rachel McAdams narrating and it was simply fabulous. Then I wanted to continue with Anne of Avonlea but had to do my first ever audible return because the new narration was ruining it for me. The Anne of Avonlea narrator was not my favorite because she made Anne sound petty and whiny.

I also learned this month that I’m a bit sensitive about certain childhood heroines— like, ahem, Anne.

Other examples of great audible narrators: Shauna Niequist (Cold Tangerines,) Lauren Graham (Talking as Fast as I Can,) and of course, the entire Harry Potter audiobook series with Jim Dale (A-Mazing.)

 

An “I Can Try” mindset is often a good place to begin. 

This spring I did two things I have never done before. Both of which, scared me a tiny bit. The first was simple, my friend Cherie asked me to bake an apple pie to highlight her floral design. Sure, I said. I can do that. Then I saw the inspiration pie and freaked out a little. Braided crust, I had never done. I even struggle with braided hair every now and then– but braided crust was completely new to me. But guess what? It turned out just fine. And, her gorgeous blooms covered a multitude of first time evidence.

The second thing was starting my own side-hustle of helping other writers with bits of social media design. I truly enjoy making gorgeous graphics to highlight beautiful words. And bonus, it helps me pay for occasional childcare so I might find a few more fringe hours to write my own words. Introducing, Happy Designs.

So, that’s fun. (And, I have space for a couple more clients this summer. If you need an image refresh on your blog, or have particular posts you would like to highlight better, send me a quick email and we can chat. )

Aren’t new things like that sometimes? A crazy potpourri of “Well, this is fun!” and “I have absolutely no business thinking I can do this.”

I’m starting to think that’s the edge of the good stuff when it comes to art and creativity. We should be slightly scared while chasing the fun. Like those first few rickety bumps up a roller coaster.

What is making you slightly scared in a fun way right now? I’d love to know.

This quarterly chance to share What We Learned with Emily Freeman is high on my list of favorite things. I would truly enjoy hearing what you learned these past few months. Feel free to comment below– or, let’s connect on Instagram.

Weekend Favorites

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“Cozy + smell of pancakes – alarm clock = weekend”  — Amy Krouse Rosenthal

Well we made it again.
Another weekend, hopefully one with a little less of whatever your week needed less of. For me it was the nagging cold that followed me around all week. I’m always thankful for the margin the weekend affords us. Margin to just be a little bit more.

But before we head off to whatever awaits, here are a few weekend favorites I compiled for us. I hope you enjoy them as much as donuts on Saturday morning.

My Favorite Places on the Web this Week: 

The Long Myth of Growing Up by Hilary Yancey  Hilary is telling her story of course, but in some small way, I felt as though she was telling my own. I truly LOVED this piece about being our parent’s children and growing up.

Little Known Ways to Build a Platform and Protect Your Soul by Margaret Feinberg. I especially valued this lens with which to view the world of working on the internet: “Focus on the abundance and your life will fill with gratitude.”

I have really enjoyed Instagram from the larger screen of my laptop. The pictures are huge and even more vibrant. I may not write here each day, but I’m over there nearly every day. If you’re on Instagram, I’d love to connect with you.

Currently Loving: 

This quote from my daughter, Lucy (7)
“You should never criticize your own creation. It’s not cool, Mom.”  (My own creation that night was spaghetti, but I think she has a point.)

Himalayan Pink Salt Lamps. Our family has made several years of memories in Blue Ridge, Georgia and the first cabin we ever stayed in had these in the bedrooms. I’ve always wanted to add a few to our own Blue House, but just recently took the plunge. And, apparently– they could have health benefits too– I just thought they were cozy and reminiscent of our Mountain time.

Homemade Bone Broth. I may not be sure about the health benefits of the chunk of pink salt on my dresser, but I do know the benefits of bone broth. This week I made some overnight in the slow cooker and um, wow. The flavor and color is fabulous. We’ve all been a bit sniffly around here lately, so I’m putting this on the repeat list.

On my bedside table: 

Notes From a Blue Bike by Tsh Oxenreider
(I have Tsh’s new book, At Home in the World: Reflections on Belonging While Wandering the Globe, which just released last week– and I’m trying so hard to wait until I finish Blue Bike before jumping in. Her writing style is one of lyrical story-telling– which I enjoy.)

Well those are my favorites this week! And, I just realized this is my 500th Blog post. (Gasp.) FIVE HUNDRED?!?!? Granted, the first few, ahem, hundred posts were Wordless Wednesdays and posts filled with pictures of my children and very few words. But still, 500!

However long you’ve been here, I’m so happy you keep coming back. My hope is that you always leave refreshed with a little more hope for your journey, and with an armful of leftovers. XX, Cynthia

You may also enjoy: To the Dads Who Carry Plenty.

To the Dads Who Carry Plenty.

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Being a mother is a heavy load– we know this like we know flaked salt belongs on dark chocolate.
In the push and pull of the glorious every day-ness, we can be bone-tired before the day even begins, and it’s nice when someone notices.

In a few more weeks the foyer of Publix will be packed with potted plants, I’ll cry at the baby soap commercial at least once, and a corner of Target will explode with lavender and pink.

Because Mother’s Day is coming.

I love the homemade cards with my head drawn almost to scale and my eyes bearing exactly three eyelashes each. I even love the subtle, sweet suggestions of their own favorite restaurant.

But in all honesty, I cannot help but steel myself for the other part of Mother’s Day. The part with all the snark. The part that says, “My ankles swelled to twice the normal size THREE different times and all I got was this lousy Begonia.”
The shouty screams about the hardness of life as mom. And my own least -favorite, the attack on Dad. The sidling up of every father against the Ray Barones of the world. The guy who never remembers anything, and wins several eye-rolls a day.

Because, yeah. It’s tough to be a mother sometimes.
But if I stop long enough to peer into the living room at that man that I live with, I see it. He’s no Ray.

The tall one with the grey converse and the ability to recall song lyrics from the 80’s. He’s only been home ten minutes and already he is kicking the soccer ball with one daughter while holding the other high in his arms. Somehow he managed to make us all feel better just by being here. He’s unloading dishes and helping with dinner and mediating a lego dispute. He helps lighten the load. ALOT.

The truth is, even on a difficult day the load is lighter because he helps carry it. Joyfully, seriously, selflessly. He doesn’t walk through the door expecting to be waited on hand and foot, He walks through the door immediately giving a hand.

He loves us like it’s his job, because he knows it is.

Even now, I pause and wince. I know it is not like this for every mom. Many feel alone. Many are alone. You might feel alone, and for you I want more than a potted plant for Mothers Day. I want a housekeeper and a masseuse and take out dinner delivered to your doorstep. I want to tell you how much you matter. Because you do. 

But for those of us who always have another set of shoulders to lean on when the day is longer than the Summer Solstice–
WE need to express our thanks and we need to say it now before June rolls around.

Because these men that keep us going so we can keep everything else going? They need to hear our thanks. They need to see it lived out. They need to be respected and appreciated for carrying so much of what we’re holding in our full hands.

These thoughtful guys who keep us in plenty of coffee and don’t mind folding towels at the end of the day are doing thousands of little things that add up to a lot.

So Thank You–

to the guys who drive just so we don’t have to–
to the high shelf reachers–
to the dark chocolate bringers–
to the take-out menu embracers–
to the wildlife catchers–
to the egg scramblers–
to the Saturday pancake flippers–
to the plant watering rememberers–
and the drive home because we locked ourselves out of the house (again) – guys.

Thank you to the better ironers who don’t mind that title–
and the ones who don’t laugh when we forget to switch the clothes over for the third time.
Thank you for deciding you didn’t want to wear that shirt anyway.

Thank you, bath givers– the gentle hairbrush wielding dads not overwhelmed by all these women they live with and the amount of irrational tears that accompany them.

To the ones who encourage us to take time for ourselves, and not for a Costco run.

Thank you for cherishing us as treasures and pushing us to be unbelievably strong.
Thank you for convincing us that we can do hard things. And then nudging us to do them.
To you who save money in unseen ways to filter it into helping dreams materialize, we notice. Thank you.

Thank you–
to the ones who help us balance plates of passions and interests and help us say no thank you when we can’t find the words.
For being both the stable rock and the soft place to lean. Thank you for looking like Christ in your servant leadership.

Thank you for seeing us.  You remember who we were all those years ago– you remind us who that girl is and help her find her place here in this beautiful new reality. One of being both who we were then and who we are now.

To the imperfect men who love the imperfect women they share a house and love and a family with– we could not do it without you.

And we wouldn’t even want to try.

Our load might be heavy, but you make it lighter.

 

A Tradition Unlike Any Other: Green Jacket Salad

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Just before the last frost of winter leaves us, this city of Augusta, Georgia begins blossoming with life.

The Masters Tournament seems to affect nearly every aspect of our beautiful azalea dotted city. Businesses and Homeowners alike begin their yearly spring spruce early in January and seem to finish just days before the magical week of the Masters.

In our family, it usually means de-cluttering every single nook and cranny and deep-cleaning the hidden corners of our house. For the past five years, we have left town in order to rent our home to visitors of the Masters. But this year, we get to stay in town and enjoy the hubbub for ourselves.

So we’re celebrating here at the Blue House Kitchen with our favorite Master’s Inspired Recipes.

First up, The Green Jacket Salad.

I know it is ridiculous to emote about salads, but this one is life-changing. Crisp, green, and simple– it is the perfect last minute dinner addition. There are no fancy-pants ingredients and the dressing is made from pantry ingredients in about 3 minutes. (Oh, and don’t leave out the pita chip pieces, they make the salad!)

Print
Green Jacket Salad
Author: 
Cuisine: Salad
Serves: 8-10
 
A light vinaigrette tossed with crisp greens, tomatoes and green onions. This is my slightly amended version, sometimes I will substitute olive oil for the vegetable oil-- for health reasons. Traditionally, the parmesan is the grated or powdered variety. Also, the original recipe calls for toasted pita bread, but using pita chips makes this recipe a weeknight staple.
Ingredients
  • ½ cup olive oil
  • ⅓ cup red wine vinegar
  • 1 teaspoon Lawry’s seasoned salt
  • 1 teaspoon dried oregano
  • 3 Romaine Hearts, Cleaned and Chopped
  • ½ cup of diced tomato
  • ½ cup chopped green onion, about 4 green onions
  • ¼ cup chopped fresh parsley
  • ¼ cup of grated Parmesan cheese, add more to taste
  • 2-3 handfuls of Stacy's Naked Pita Chips, broken into rough pieces
  • Cracked black pepper to taste
Method
  1. Mix Oil, Vinegar, Seasoned Salt, and Oregano together in a jar with a tight-fitting lid. Shake until emulsified.
  2. Chop remaining ingredients except pita chips and mix in a large bowl.
  3. Toss with Dressing just before serving. (You may have dressing left over.)

You may also be interested in: Green Onions and Quiet Growth

What I’m Loving Lately

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To Read: 

7 tips for Memorizing Scripture by Carrie Rogers

10 Ways to Keep Saying Yes 20 Years Later  by Caroline TeSelle for The Art of Simple

11 Ways We Embrace Traveling with Kids by Tsh Oxenreider (Tsh is one I have learned so much from through her podcast. I’ve also recently picked up her book, Notes From a Blue Bike, for the first time and I’m not sure why I waited so long. Tsh also has a brand new book coming out next month!)

To Taste: 

Strawberries!!! They are finally in from Florida and I couldn’t be happier. We always look forward to picking them locally, but it’s almost as good to get them from my home state.

This Paleo Granola is on my list to make again soon.

To Listen: 

The “Pride and Prejudice” station I created on Pandora. I added in a little Downton Abbey and it seems to play this lovely mix of quiet tunes each time. We listen to this great background station often while doing school.

The Rush to Publish – How to Pace Your Career. Ann Kroeker Writing Coach Podcast. (This episode is brief; packed with hope and a healthy dose of ‘slow down there ma’am– where are you headed to so fast?’ Ann is one of my favorite mentors who doesn’t know it!)

Red Sea Road – Ellie Holcomb. This album is pure modern-day Psalmist’s poetry. It was worth the wait and we listen to it every day.

 

That’s all for today. I do hope that you have a restful weekend. We have a few little house projects planned for this weekend and it will be nice just to all be together at home.

May your hope be real, your coffee be strong, and your people be close.

Love, Cynthia

What I Learned (Winter Edition.)

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“She turned to the sunlight
And shook her yellow head,
And whispered to her neighbor:
“Winter is dead.”

A.A. Milne, When We Were Very Young

We only had 5 full minutes of snow in the entire winter.
Truly.
It snowed one Saturday morning while we were gathered around the little white table eating scrambled eggs and tiny biscuits with jam. The girls nearly knocked our giant dog over as they ran for coats and rain boots and charged outside before it finished. We watched from the window and drank coffee as they flew around the yard catching minuscule flakes in gloved hands.

And just as it began, it was over. They came back in with red faces and fell into their chairs to finish breakfast. Lucy took one bite, sighed and said– “Well. That was unexpected!” And that is precisely how winter was this year. Completely unexpected.  Hats and scarves one day, sandals the next. Add to that the crazy coincidence that Lance and I both were able to visit South Africa during our winter and their summer and we are throughly, seasonally confused.

Spring is already dusting its yellow self all over the front porch, but before it arrives– Let’s share what we learned in winter.

I learned the word, Hygge– and what it is not. 

Hygge, a Danish term which doesn’t have a direct English translation, but comes close to ‘cozy’ — is an over-all feeling of enjoyment of people rather than things; time together soaking up simple pleasures in a welcoming atmosphere. It is a gratefulness for the simple, rather than seeking to amass wealth and stuff. But if you search the #Hygge hashtag on Instagram you may think that in order to be Hygge, you need to take your little self to Target and stock up on cozy blankets, candles and socks. But it truly does not seem to be one more way for us to indulge in home and garden hedonism, but to enjoy what we already have. This book is on my to-read list though, because I find concepts like this fascinating– The Little Book of Hygge: Danish Secrets to Happy Living. And yes, this will probably be one more thing that will make me want to give it ALL to Goodwill and start over with an Ikea bud vase and a small stack of books.

I tried HelloFresh and found a few fringe hours. While Lance was out of the country and I was home with the girls, I had my first HelloFresh delivery. For those few days,  I found great value in having those meals planned for me. The box came with all of the ingredients, perfectly portioned and ready to go. The recipes were great and the time saving aspect was even better. We won’t do it all the time, but there are definite weeks where a meal service helps. Here’s $40- off your first delivery if you want to try it out.

South Africans are Polite. 

I try not to be the annoying american that nationals roll their eyes at, really I do. But I am such a word-girl and I love to hear colloquialisms in other parts of the world. South Africans have many words that I wish we would adopt, many seem to have a strong British influence. Here are just a few I learned while there:

Shame. This an endearing term. It can mean anything from “oh, that is a shame!” “oh, how cute!”

Pavement Special. This is the affectionate term for a dog of mixed breed; a much sweeter term than mutt, isn’t it?

Just Now. Doesn’t actually mean “just now.” It can, or maybe it means in an hour… or even next week. Not even South Africans always know when “just now” is.

Braai. A Barbecue. As in, a meal consisting mostly of meat, cooked over a fire.

Lift. An elevator, definitely British influence on this one.

What I’m Watching: 

Victoria. We’re not currently caught up, but it is a typical Masterpiece treasure. Jenna Coleman is lovely.

What I’m Reading: 

North! Or Be Eaten. by Andrew Peterson (This is the second book in the Wingfeather Saga.)

Talking as Fast as I Can: From Gilmore Girls to Gilmore Girls and Everything in Between by Lauren Graham (this memoir style book is a gem for any creative or lover of Lorelai and Rory. And bonus! On the audiobook, Lauren reads it herself– which makes it even better.

The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis (Chronicles of Narnia)

Just Finished: 

The Magician’s Nephew by C.S. Lewis (Chronicles of Narnia, Lucy and I have been working through the Narnia series together in school, so fun. )

What I’m Cooking in the Blue House Kitchen: 

This Italian Chopped Salad

Kale Caesar Salad similar to this.

****

Your turn! I am always happy to hear what you have recently learned. Send me a note or tell me here in the comments or find me on Instagram.

I’m linking up with Emily Freeman for What We Learned. Hop over here and see what others have learned.

 

(Amazon Links do often appear. Thank you for your support.)

On Waiting Well (and a recipe for Multi-Grain Sunflower Bread.)

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As bleary-eyed new parents we went through a long waiting period. It was eighteen months of compulsively checking emails and grabbing the phone on the first tone of the first ring. We were waiting for a job, a direction, a next step. The wait was longer than either of us expected and we ran out of things to do “in the mean time.”

One particular Thursday, I crossed our welcome mat at 5:15 and covered the ten steps to the kitchen to see that Lance had taken up bread making.

In between trail hikes with Baby Lucy on his back and a huge stack of job applications, he had challenged himself to master the yeast and flour to produce something predictable. The air was thick with the scent of time well spent.

 

The simplicity of bread is one that we often miss. Flour, Water, Yeast and Time. Nothing more really, but nothing less. Unfancy ingredients blend together with a comfortable wait and give us fluffy, seedy slices of gluten. Regardless of the flour you select, the wait is what truly matters. If you don’t have the time, you won’t have very good bread.

That particular waiting period ended with a bang and a whirlwind move to the city we call our home, but it definitely wasn’t that last wait of its kind. We’ve waited many times since then with various results. I know we will always wait towards something.

I adore having something to look forward to, almost more than I enjoy the thing itself.
But when the thing is not certain to ever actually arrive, that’s when I struggle. I love waiting towards a block on my planner— but waiting in the unknown can be truly lonely.

And still— I confess that I wish I were better at this thing of waiting. If only I could preach to my soul a little earlier in the process before endless anxious striving becomes my daily to-do list.

Do you struggle with this? We may not wake up in the morning planning to exhaust ourselves from the inside out, but we do it anyway. We know what striving feels like. We recognize the way it leaves us bare and peace-less all in a matter of minutes– minutes in which we try to take control.

No matter the thing we’re waiting on, it’s all the same. It is leaning too much on what I want to know and not leaning enough on that which I already do. It’s forgetting the truth that we aren’t meant to strive our way through the wait. 

Because, friend? We are not meant to endlessly strive through the wait. No matter what we might do with our hands while waiting, it matters that our hearts are practicing rest.

When I forget to remember that these details are not up to me, time standing at my kitchen counter helps. I watch yeast bloom or onions caramelize and the task is good for my waiting process.

I’m not sure about good things coming to those who wait; but I know there is a good God who holds all our waits in His hands. He holds them all.

This bread is a tangible reminder to my heart of this very thing.
And, it makes two large loaves; just in case you have a friend that also needs to be reminded of the good in the waiting. 

 

Print
Friar Stuck's Multigrain Sunflower Bread
Author: 
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Serves: 2 loaves
 
Ingredients
  • 2½ cups water (105°-115°F) (567 grams)
  • 
5 ½ cups King Arthur Bread Flour (788 grams)
  • 
5 tablespoons vegetable oil (70 grams)
  • 5 tablespoons honey or brown sugar (42 grams)
  • ⅔ cup hulled sunflower seeds (90 grams)
  • 1 cup rolled oats (uncooked oatmeal) (114 grams)
  • 5 tablespoons sesame seeds (40 grams)
  • 
5 tablespoons flax seeds (50 grams)
  • 3 teaspoons salt (20 grams)
  • 
6¼ teaspoons active dry yeast (20 grams)
Method
  1. Combine the yeast and the water together for approximately 5 minutes. I often toss in a pinch of sugar; I find it helps the yeast to bloom better.
  2. After about 5 minutes, add the oil, salt, and sugar. Using the dough hook on your stand mixer, mix the ingredients together on a low speed for about a minute.
  3. After about a minute you will begin to add the flour. You will do this in three installments. Add the first installment of flour and give it a minute to begin to incorporate into the liquid mixture. Once it has incorporated well, add the second. Repeat this with the third and final mixture. Increase the speed of the mixer to about medium. At this point the dough should begin to form and pull away from the sides of the bowl.
  4. Add the oats, sunflower seeds, sesame seeds, and flax seeds to the mixture. If you have made any additions to the recipe, such as oat bran, wheat germ, etc., add these now.
  5. Allow the dough to knead for a few more minutes, no more than about five.
  6. Remove the dough from the bowl onto a floured surface. Knead it and shape it into a ball. Deposit the ball in a lightly oiled bowl for approximately 2 hours or until the ball has doubled in size.
  7. After 2 hours, remove the dough from the bowl and punch it down. If you are only making one loaf, shape it to the size of your loaf pan and cover. If you are making a double recipe, divide the ball into equal pieces. Shape each to the size of your loaf pan and cover.
  8. Allow the bread to rise for about 45 to 60 minutes, until it’s crowned about 1 inch above the edge of the pan. During this time, preheat your oven to 350°F.
  9. Bake in a 350°F oven for 35-40 minutes or until the internal temperature registers 190°F. You can test for doneness by thumping the bottom of the loaf; if it sounds hollow, it is done.
  10. Remove the loaves from the pans and place them on a cooling rack.

(*You might recall the story of our wait mentioned here, if you’ve read Simmer. This bread is PERFECT with any one of those soups!) 

 

Finding Perspective in a South African Garden.

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We met them just miles from a turquoise sea, but everything was the same shade of muted brown here. A million tiny houses surrounded by grass-less yards and high stone walls; the only ocean we see is one of sand. Still, a smile makes its way to her eyes as she leads us behind the house and points one finger at her garden.

It’s takes up the few feet of outdoor space they call their own and we gasp to see it there. It’s beautiful and surprising, because to us– nothing else seems to grow here except trepidation.

Still, here in the middle of it all, there is headstrong green sprigging up from black dirt. Who knows where that rich soil even came from? Maybe they scrimped and saved for it. Maybe it was given as a gift. But it’s here and it’s dark, holding fast to tender roots. They’ve created an irrigation system out of emptied two-liters. Fanta and Coke- Light bottles water the green and block the fiery wind.

Lettuce, green peppers, tomatoes, and something else I don’t recognize. They’re all springing up amidst the dare that they won’t flourish.

It’s just that way here.

Culture has pushed them out beyond the boundaries. Just far enough from the ocean and its compassionate breeze. One of them tells me, “I was born here. I will die here. I’ll never leave because this is all there is.”

I might struggle to find the beauty in a dry and dusty land; a place where no one can go out after dark, where the gates are all iron and the evil often still seeps in. I strain to truly see and my eyes ache from the hardness of that life– so different from my own. So unlike my world of crisp sheets and safety and a really good immune system. Everything that comes easily for me is harder won for them.

Nevertheless the beauty is here. Once I know what I’m looking for, I see it more clearly. It is in their community. In the way they care for one another and mother together. It is their kinship that cloaks those truly related and those thrown together in a fight to thrive.

It is in their stubbornness to plant and water and see growth springing up amidst recalcitrant concrete. It is in a life that is hard but lovely in the same guttural sigh.

It is the secret delight of noticing God dot the landscape of their community with His people– strengthening them to share.

It is the reflection of hope in the eyes of one who knows the Bringer of the rains. And they celebrate the drizzle as though it were a deluge. It’s barely enough for rain boots, yet they can’t stop talking about the sprinkles of His favor falling on their cheeks.

It is here that I find my perspective as I see theirs. Gratefulness doesn’t even begin to plumb the depths of what I’m feeling as I look into countless pairs of brown eyes. I listen to their stories of hurt and heartache and loss and aloneness, and it’s all an incredible weight to hold in my soft american hands.

But we must try anyway.

We must listen twice as much as we struggle to bring anything helpful. Because all we have is hope to give. We are not the rescuers, we are the fellow rescued. And that makes a big difference, friends.

We cannot always answer why their lives are so much harder than our own. But we can tell them just how in the very image of God they have been made. We can touch them with our bare hands and share the mysteries of His love. We can extend the gospel with eyes that reflect of knowing that same luminous hope within our needy souls.

We can go and help and bless and give– and we should. We absolutely should. But at the end of the day, at the end of the trip, when we sit in an airport terminal with sore feet and weary hearts, we need the comfort that comes from knowing  that God was already there, long before we came. He was there before we felt that pull, and He will be there once we’ve gone.

Until we go again.

Italian Chopped Salad (and my trusted salad tips.)

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I love a big ole’ bowl of fresh greens but… I’m a bit of a salad snob when visiting restaurants. I rarely order a salad out unless I know it’s going to be good. Because, while some eateries really nail the salads, others offer you a bowl of massive chunks of white iceberg with pink tomatoes and gloopy dressing and charge you $12.00.
I just can’t.
Not when I know how easy it is to make really good salads. But because I didn’t always know– here are a few tips I’ve learned along the way to bring salads back into the spotlight.

  1. Branch out with your greens. Romaine is perfect for heartier entree salads, or ones with creamier dressings. Also, Butter Lettuce is really good. Spring Mix is delicious when it’s fresh, but Arugula (Roquette) is my top choice for lighter side salads, or as a bed for chicken salad or fresh fish. It’s slightly peppery and holds up well.
  2. Chop it. Try to keep a somewhat uniform size for all your ingredients. Exact isn’t necessary, but chopping the ingredients makes it easier to eat.
  3. Toss it. A couple of years ago, I began tossing salad with the dressing in a larger bowl and it makes a big difference. You use less dressing and you don’t throw salad everywhere trying to mix in your good stuff on your plate.
  4. Make the dressing. Ok, stay with me. I’m not going full on crazy here– homemade salad dressing takes less than 5 minutes and has a fraction of the sugar of just about every bottle on my pantry shelf. There are a few* I rely on in a pinch, but 99% of the time, I grab a mason jar and a few ingredients and go to town.

This Italian Chopped Salad was inspired by several different salads I’ve had along the way. It’s the perfect accompaniment to pizza because it is filling and helps me to stick to one piece! I hope you love it. (P.S. I often leave off the garbanzo beans if I’m serving it as a side salad.)

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Italian Chopped Salad
Author: 
Recipe type: Easy
Prep time: 
Total time: 
 
Ingredients
  • Dressing: ¼ cup apple cider vinegar
  • 2 minced garlic cloves
  • ¼- 1/2 tsp kosher salt
  • Black pepper to taste
  • 1 TBSP Dijon mustard
  • 1 tsp each of dried oregano, basil, and parsley
  • ¾ cup of Olive Oil
  • Salad: 2-3 Romaine hearts, chopped
  • Two green onions, chopped
  • ¼ cup thinly sliced red onion
  • Grape tomatoes, chopped
  • Red pepper, diced
  • Part skim mozzarella cheese, cubed
  • ¼ lb. Pepperoni or Salami. (I usually just get a bit from the deli counter)
  • 1 cup of gently cooked and cooled garbanzo beans
  • 3 Tbsp. Grated Parmesan cheese
Method
  1. Dressing: Mix all ingredients except olive oil in a jar with a lid and shake.
  2. Add olive oil and shake vigorously.
  3. Season with additional Salt & Pepper if needed.
  4. Salad: Mix all ingredients in a large bowl and then toss with ½ the dressing. The remaining dressing will keep refrigerated for several days.

 

 

For Those of Us Trying Not to Make It Worse.

by 2 Comments

I’ve told you before that I’m a slow processor. But I wonder now– are you that way as well?
Do you take weeks and months to sift through big events, huge feelings, meaningful changes?

Because I’ve always felt it was okay to sift slowly– to watch the world happen around me, to stop and hear what’s going on inside me. I need to listen long before I speak up– but lately I’m not at all sure that I’m doing anything but listening.

Perhaps I don’t always share my thoughts with you– because the things are too big and I’m not sure of  what I think just yet or how I can even begin to help.
I’m often worried I might be another voice that doesn’t really help.

Maybe I’m holding back too often. Maybe I’m sinking so deeply as I wrestle that I never bring those things back into the light with you. Maybe we could do a lot with those hard things if we would bring them out together. I’m more often worried that my interpretation of the world around me, might sting deeply as you grapple with the (quite different) world around you.

Because if we’re being honest, You and I– my goal is always grace.

My point is always hope, hope, hope– like a quiet metronome in the subtext of each paragraph–
Hope. Hope. Hope.
It whispers to me as I tread the rough waters of yet another day of watching people pillage one another’s peace. My head spins as I see lines being drawn, and then drawn, and drawn again– circles getting smaller and smaller.

I need the hope in this space, and I need it as I go out from here. I need the seemingly elusive balance of real love and actual truth. And, I need the biggest dose of humility drenched over top like hot fudge on ice cream.

But I know it isn’t this simple. I know this is where the water gets choppy. If we have any hope of living our hope in front of the world– we have to be able to talk about the hard things once in awhile. The things that threaten to steal away what we know as truth.

So I need you to know, that my silence isn’t always golden. Sometimes it’s fear of making things worse. But I think we need to keep trying.

After all, it is hard to share hope without the whole story, isn’t it?
And the whole story is where it gets really good.

 

I’d love to hear from you today– just send me an email or connect with me on instagram.

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