by Elizabeth | Aug 19, 2011 | Learning Story
I’ve decided to do it. Write a food blog. At least one. I love food, and feasting is a regular and important occurrence in our family and in my theology (see Story Feasting and Chapter Four and Seven of Learning God’s Story of Grace.). Lately we’ve had a lot, trying to finish up birthday feasts for all four children who have summer birthdays before all but one left for college. (I know we didn’t finish, Robert). Last night was our second child’s last night at home before returning to school, and she got to choose her feast. In a beautiful cookbook called Peace Meals, given to me by the wonderful ladies at Spring Cypress Presbyterian Church, she discovered a recipe for Deep Dish Spinach Pizza. I’ve been making Spinach-Pesto pizza for years (after I convinced the kids that it was Chuck-E-Cheese’s special recipe (but that’s another story.) Guess what — Deep dish pizza is not that difficult to make. Don’t get me wrong — this took a while, making the dough, sauteeing spinach and garlic, chopping all the veggies, and then putting it all together. But it is doable — you could even use that great dough from Publix. Enough talking. Here are the pics. I can’t give you the recipe because I think that would violate copyright. But it’s basically dough, sauce (I use Tre Fratelli), sauteed spinach and garlic, basil, tomatoes, green and red peppers, and six-cheese Italian blend.
by Elizabeth | Aug 16, 2011 | Learning Story
We were made for shalom; how do we live in broken shalom?
Your job is cut. A child dies. Your rotator cuff is torn — again. Refrigerator and microwave die at the same time.
Ian Duguid, in writing about the life of Abraham, describes a “reality gap,” “between what God has promised and the circumstances in which you find yourself. Surely this isn’t what life should be like as a Christian, you think to yourself.”
Dr. Duguid explains our struggle in the reality gap:
“So how do you stay strong in the midst of the reality gap, when you find yourself drowning in painful feelings, dire circumstances, or broken relationships? The answer is simple — at least in theory. You cling to the promises of God and the God of the promises. You don’t have to understand; you just have to cling. That is the lesson that Abraham had to learn. Like so many of us, he had to learn the lesson not once, not twice, but repeatedly….
We have an advantage over Abraham. We have the whole history of God’s faithful dealings with his people, recorded in the Scriptures for our instruction. What is more, God’s promises to us have been signed and sealed in the broken body and blood of Christ…We have this further assurance: ‘God did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all — how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?’ (Romans 8:32) Ian Duguid, Living in the Gap between Promise and Reality
A prayer for those struggling in the reality gap:
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. Today I hurt and I wonder what you are up to in my life. My head knows you promise to work in our lives for our good and your glory; right now my heart doubts that this story is very good for me. What are you doing? Why are you letting me suffer? My narrow perspective can’t see the whole picture. Stun me with the brightness of your glory. Knock me over with the power punch of your goodness. Fill my mind with memories of how you’ve moved in the past and sustain me with a vision of what you will do in the future. Thank you, God, that the only thing you ask is that I cling to the crucified, and that you wrap my heart around this hope. You are indeed God; I daresay again that you are good. So very amen.
by Elizabeth | Aug 15, 2011 | Learning Story
“Jesus said to them, “I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.” Matthew 21:31
Have you ever heard the self-righteousness in your tone or words even as they are coming out of your mouth? What did you do? I am ashamed to say I had that experience yesterday when I had the opportunity to share in the human condition but instead went the route of ‘holier-than-thou.” That would be bad enough, but what made it even worse is I repeated this story several times, making sure everyone knew how cool I was because I can see what is truly valuable. I just read these words from Tim Keller. Not only do they point to the dangers of self-righteousness, but they remind me that the gospel is for people like me, who fall in all kinds of sin, including self-righteousness. Read this and rejoice with me in the gospel for the not-good.
Religion and philosophy in general says that God and salvation are only for those who are good. The gospel is also exclusive. It says that God and salvation are only for those who know they are not good and can only be saved by grace. But the gospel has a far more inclusive exclusivity! Anyone can belong to God through the gospel at once, regardless of record and background, regardless of who you have been or what you have done or how weak you are. Religion is for the noble, the able, the moral, the strong, but the gospel is for anyone. Jesus actually said that the able, moral and strongare in general farther from the kingdom than the moral failures and the spiritually weak.
(Matt.21:31).
by Elizabeth | Aug 11, 2011 | Learning Story
This isn’t a Pollyanna post. This is a reality check. Sarai did many things before she laughed…do I want to wait as long as she before I embrace God’s hilarious grace? Read this diamond from Charles Spurgeon:
“And Sarah said, God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh with me.” Genesis 21:6
It was far above the power of nature, and even contrary to its laws, that the aged Sarah should be honoured with a son; and even so it is beyond all ordinary rules that I, a poor, helpless, undone sinner, should find grace to bear about in my soul the indwelling Spirit of the Lord Jesus.
I, who once despaired, as well I might, for my nature was as dry, and withered, and barren, and accursed as a howling wilderness, even I have been made to bring forth fruit unto holiness.
Well may my mouth be filled with joyous laughter, because of the singular, surprising grace which I have received of the Lord, for I have found Jesus, the promised seed, and He is mine for ever. This day will I lift up psalms of triumph unto the Lord who has remembered my low estate, for ‘my heart rejoiceth in the Lord; mine horn is exalted in the Lord; my mouth is enlarged over mine enemies, because I rejoice in Thy salvation.’
I would have all those that hear of my great deliverance from hell, and my most blessed visitation from on high, laugh for joy with me. I would surprise my family with my abundant peace; I would delight my friends with my ever-increasing happiness; I would edify the Church with my grateful confessions; and even impress the world with the cheerfulness of my daily conversation.
Bunyan tells us that Mercy laughed in her sleep, and no wonder when she dreamed of Jesus; my joy shall not stop short of hers while my Beloved is the theme of my daily thoughts. The Lord Jesus is a deep sea of joy: my soul shall dive therein, shall be swallowed up in the delights of His society.
Sarah looked on her Isaac, and laughed with excess of rapture, and all her friends laughed with her; and thou, my soul, look on thy Jesus, and bid heaven and earth unite in thyjoy unspeakable. Charles Spurgeon, Morning and Evening
by Elizabeth | Aug 9, 2011 | Learning Story
Who is the architect and builder of our lives?
Yesterday I wrote a post about leaving my daughter at college that was really about the necessity of prayer as parents. Today I received this in the mail — this is a great prayer about how and what to pray as parents:
Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchman stays awake in vain. It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for he gives to his beloved sleep. Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Ps. 127:1–3
Heavenly Father, it is a liberating joy to address you today as the architect and builder of your own house—including the household of faith and our children’s place in your family. No one loves our children more than you. No one has a greater investment in their future than you. No one can teach us to parent them like you.
As I look back over the years of my pragmatic parenting, I’m saddened, for there have been consequences. But I’m also gladdened, for you’ve always been faithful to your covenant love, even when I was overbearing and under-believing. The move from parenting by grit to parenting by grace has been a fitful, but fruitful journey. Take me deeper; take me further.
You’ve rescued me from parental “laboring in vain”—assuming a burden you never intended parents to bear. Father, only you can reveal the glory and grace of Jesus to our children. Only you can give anyone a new heart. You’ve called us to parent as an act of worship—to parent “as unto you,” not as a way of saving face, making a name for ourselves, or proving our worthiness of your love.
Oh, the arrogant pride of thinking that by our “good parenting” we can take credit for what you alone can graciously do in the lives of our children. Oh, the arrogant unbelief of assuming that by our “bad parenting” we’ve forever limited what you’ll be able to accomplish in the future. by Scotty Smith
Read the rest
by Elizabeth | Aug 8, 2011 | Learning Story
Our daughter doesn't need a big brother watching her nor does she need room design advice!
As far as I’m concerned, every parent can get through the hardest moments in life with two essential tools:
1. Duct tape.
2. Prayer.
I became well-acquainted with the latter when my eldest arrived in the world as a very strong-willed baby. My friend Debbie had a similarly tempered daughter ten months older than he, so I regularly phoned her and asked questions like, “Debbie, did —- ever bite another child?” (That was at about 6 months). Or, “Debbie, did —- ever try to steal another kid’s tricycle – while they were riding it?” What did you do?
Her answer I’ll never forget, because it was the same almost every time, “Oh, I don’t remember what I did, but I know I prayed.”
Yesterday the day came to move our third child, second daughter, into the dorm, and though I have lots of practical experience now, the emotional part doesn’t get one bit easier. Just in case some of you are about to do this for the first time, I offer these words of wisdom:
1. Send an older sibling with them. Pay that sibling a monthly stipend to smooth the way for the younger. In our case, this didn’t require transferring the older one from another school. Our daughter is blessed to have an elder brother who has a heart to protect and care for his sister, as well as a clever mind that figures out the best parking place for unloading (in this case, the stadium plaza – okay, questionable, but he got approval from the police officer:). (This is the same older sibling I used to call my friend about when they were young). If you can’t convince any of the older siblings to return to or transfer colleges, pray (or pay) for another person on campus to take your child under their wing.
2. Take charge. Contrary to popular belief, now is not the time to let your daughter grow her independence. If you’re the mom, tell everyone what to do and when to do it. Design the floor plan and stick with it whether they like it or not. Okay, that’s a bad joke. Pray that you’ll be able to hold your tongue when your daughter and her roommate decide to put the refrigerator on top of the chest of drawers (which did not happen in our case because these girls worked brilliantly together:!). (Duct tape for your mouth might also come in handy.)
3. Do nothing. Now is the time for your daughter to grow up. Bring that chair you used to use at soccer games and a good book. Set it up in the middle of her room while she and her roommate lug all the stuff in and unpack. No again. I think you get my point — Pray that you will find the right place between being helpful and being overbearing.
4. Expect sabotage. Things will go wrong. Coffee will be spilled on the overnight bag containing the most necessary possessions to get through the next few days. You will fight over things like where to put a coffeemaker or who packed the shower curtain. When you see it coming, Pray. When you realize you’re about to get picky about something that really doesn’t matter, get out the duct tape — and pray. (See above).
5. Get in and get out. The time to say good-bye is when things are in fairly good order but there are still some things left to do. When that moment arrives, do it and go. A long walk back to the family mini-van might make them want to jump in the vehicle (a move which you may think you want, but you don’t:) If at all possible (pray), wait till you’re on the road to cry. Pray. Don’t worry, you will not be sad forever, within the first week, they will call and tell you something outlandish, like they got a parking ticket for leaving their car on the stadium plaza.
It’s over. I needed to go in my daughter’s room last night to look for something, and yes, a tear or two dropped. But I’m thrilled as I pray for the exciting day she has ahead of her. I really just have one big problem. We had one last Mother-Daughter bonding session on Saturday. I needed some new exercise gear, and Dick’s Sporting Goods had a big sale. She convinced me not to buy anything too matchy-matchy. So this morning I got up and pulled out a pair of shorts and a shirt that I would never wear together. Unfortunately, the combination has not been pre-approved by my fashion adviser. Does this match?:)
Does this match?:)!!!
the
I’ve decided to do it. Write a food blog. At least one. I love food, and feasting is a regular and important occurrence in our family and in my theology (see Story Feasting and Chapter Four and Seven of Learning God’s Story of Grace.). Lately we’ve had a lot, trying to finish up birthday feasts for all four children who have summer birthdays before all but one left for college. (I know we didn’t finish, Robert). Last night was our second child’s last night at home before returning to school, and she got to choose her feast. In a beautiful cookbook called Peace Meals, given to me by the wonderful ladies at Spring Cypress Presbyterian Church, she discovered a recipe for Deep Dish Spinach Pizza. I’ve been making Spinach-Pesto pizza for years (after I convinced the kids that it was Chuck-E-Cheese’s special recipe (but that’s another story.) Guess what — Deep dish pizza is not that difficult to make. Don’t get me wrong — this took a while, making the dough, sauteeing spinach and garlic, chopping all the veggies, and then putting it all together. But it is doable — you could even use that great dough from Publix. Enough talking. Here are the pics. I can’t give you the recipe because I think that would violate copyright. But it’s basically dough, sauce (I use Tre Fratelli), sauteed spinach and garlic, basil, tomatoes, green and red peppers, and six-cheese Italian blend.
