Domestic Experimentation

I decided to be adventurous tonight in the kitchen and try my hand at a few very unique dishes.  I had on the menu grilled chicken and grilled plantain, since I had a couple of those left that were at last ripe. Simple and common recipes.

As I cleaned up around the house, I ran across one of my seasons of Little House on the Prairie. Which of course got me thinking about Laura and Almanzo, which reminded me of the episode in which Nellie asks Almanzo over for dinner and then asks Laura to cook his favorite food - cinnamon chicken.  Which she does - with a hearty sprinkling of cayenne pepper instead of cinnamon.

Love that episode.  Love that series.

The Kiss of Good Luck!

Incidentally, Laura's red dress in season 6 reminds me of the dress and pinafore I wore as Josie Pye in Anne of Green Gables.  

But back to the point.  I have never heard of cinnamon chicken. So of course I decided to try it.  I found a simple-looking recipe, made a few adjustments to prevent it from being overly dry, and whipped it up.

But do grilled plantains really go with cinnamon chicken?  More importantly, will my husband (who sadly, I must say, was not a huge fan of my baked plantain chips) become a consumer of plantains or will he forevermore steer me in a different direction at the grocery store?

This cannot happen.  My plantain creativity must continue.  

Naturally, the solution was to use as much sugar as I could in baking the plantains and serve that instead of the healthier grilled version.  The result?  Plantain baked in a brown sugar/cinnamon/butter mixture.

In my husband's words at his first bite... "Weird....but good!"  Once he was more accustomed to the taste, he rather enjoyed it and went back for more.

The sweetness of the sauce brought out the more banana-y flavor, although it still had the unique plantain flavor that is quite indescribable.  It went perfectly as a side dish with the cinnamon chicken, which itself benefited greatly from being used as a mop for excess sugary sauce.  Dinner and dessert rolled into one.  Double win.

The chicken I probably will not make again, but I already have my eye on a different cinnamon chicken recipe - this one breaded.  The plantains, both cheap and versatile, I may introduce to guests to expand their taste buds and cultural experiences.  :) Here's to another day of culinary experiments!

Heaven on Earth

Josh and I are going through Philippians together and last night covered Philippians 2.  Philippians is a generally good book, but what stood out to me last night was verse 15:

"that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world."


The reference to lights of the world reminded me not only of the oft-quoted verse in Matthew 5, but also of Daniel 12:3:

"And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever."


Daniel is talking about the end of time, a prophecy of the resurrection of believers into the eternal presence of God. In His presence, those saints will reflect the radiance of His glory.  Paul, on the other hand, is talking about the here and now.  In the midst of corruption and perversity, those saints who are blameless and innocent shine as lights.

A taste of heaven on earth?  I think so.  The refreshment of a saint living purely despite the surroundings can only be explained by the eternality dwelling within them.  The light of the world is not simply a "testimony" to unbelievers.  It is a glimpse of the transcendent, a taste of the divine. It is the immortal, God-fulfilled soul peeking out behind a mortal mask.

We often think of being the light of the world as being a draw to unbelievers, something that pulls them in.  We fail to recognize that just as often, to the degenerate human untouched by the Holy Spirit, the reflection of God's glory is repulsive.  But like Ezekiel, we must continue shining in the midst of a corrupt and perverse generation, not based on the results or the number of souls we can draw in, but because in so doing we will be offering the sacrifice of our faith to the Eternal God.

Peanut Butter Maple Bars

A couple nights ago I was experimenting with a recipe for no-bake oatmeal cookies.  The problem: I didn't have all of the ingredients, and not enough of the ingredients I did have.  So I experimented instead!

I brought 2 cups of sugar, a stick of butter, and 1/2 cup of milk to a light boil until it was smooth and creamy.  I then removed the pan from the heat and added a dash of vanilla, a glob of peanut butter (probably around 3/4th of a cup), and several packs of instant oatmeal.  I then drizzled chocolate syrup over the mess and stirred it all together.

The result was a goop that looked like oatmeal.  The cookies that I was semi-imitating were supposed to plop down on foil and then cool into cookies.  This wasn't gonna happen with these pups.  So I poured them into a baking dish and chilled them over night.

I must say, I was pretty happy with the final product.  It's basically peanut butter fudge with the added oatmeal texture.  I was so pleased with it that I made another batch to take to a party. I'm inspired to try making real fudge someday.... but with how rich this stuff is, it's gonna take us a while to get through our current batch. 

It's been a good week in our little apartment.  I revised a spinach quiche recipe I found online for our Labor Day weekend breakfast (the joy of cooking for two -- it lasts much longer!), and was surprised how well it turned out.  All I did was lessen the number of ingredients and substituted some ingredients for their more expensive counterparts.  Simplification.  :)

This morning Josh and I took a walk to drop an envelope in the mailbox and grab a treat.  We passed a yard sale on our way and I noticed a desk.  We've been looking for a desk.  So we decided that on the way back, we would ask how much and if it was less than $40, we would get the car and take it.


$15.  That sold us right there.  It's sturdy and well-built (as we were about to find out, too well-built), and in fairly good condition.  There are decorations on it (i.e., crayon scribbles), but that matches our table perfectly and so goes with the general theme.  ;)


We walked back, got the car, drove back, and loaded her up. 

Or at least...we tried.  Too deep to fit in the trunk and too wide to fit in the back seat.  So I drove back, grabbed our toolset, and we disassembled the desk.


Or at least...we tried. The screws attaching the drawer section to the desktop were stripped. 


Enter Jeremiah.  Faithful carpool buddy came driving to the rescue in his white Subaru.  He helped us load it up and then get it into our apartment.  We don't have a chair for it yet (that's our next search -- more chairs so we can host more than two people!), but for now we've got Josh's exercise ball.


I finally felt like I was fully moved in as I unpacked.  Office supplies are my favorite.  Binders, notebooks, sticky notes, freshly sharpened pencils...they're a must.  It was great to say hello to my old friends as I released them from the purple bin that was their prison!

I also found a few of my favorite memorized pieces.  If, by Rudyard Kipling, The Four Quartets, by T.S. Eliot, and O Captain My Captain now grace my walls.  *happy sigh*

It has been amazing how many ways God has provided for us.  I know He will always provide our necessities, like food and clothing.  But He has answered our prayers far above and beyond our needs.

Now all we need is a buddy with a truck who can help us move a sleeper couch that someone offered to us.  :)  Then we can have someone spend the night!

On the Prophet of this Age, Part II

I Corinthians Chapter 2 makes it clear that wisdom is directly from the Spirit of God, who makes clear to us the thoughts of God.  How amazing!  Read that again: the wisdom only accessible to believers is from the Spirit of God, revealing to us the innermost thoughts of God.  Incredible.  I just can't get over that.

God is love, so the wisdom that comes from Him can be characterized by nothing other than love.  If it lacks love, then it may be knowledge, intellectualism, intelligence, perception, or any number of things -- but not wisdom.

There is a guy I know who has a brilliant mind.  Most of his observations about American Christianity are dead on. But he expresses them in such a cynical, scornful way that most people are seriously offended.

Offense is not always a bad thing; sometimes it is necessary (ever met a person glad to hear about their sins?).  But the offense here is not in his message-- it is in his words, his bitterness. 

He was once railing on about an issue (which I agreed with him on), when someone told him that cynicism was just as bad. The response?  People called Jeremiah a cynic, too.

Hold it right there.  If you're going to compare yourself to a prophet of God, then your life had better emulate that prophet. Jeremiah suffered deeply because of his position.  He was beaten, threatened, slandered.  He was not allowed a wife or children.  And he grieved his heart out over the fate of his country.  He pled with God for mercy and grace on their behalf.  He pled with his people to change their ways for their own sake.  He genuinely suffered in the midst of his "cynicism" because of his love for the people.

Jeremiah translated his connection with God into harsh words of truth.  The truth hurts sometimes, but it has to be said.  However, there's a HUGE difference between speaking the truth out of scorn and speaking the truth because your heart is burning within you.

Let the prophet of this age note: if the truth that you have recognized is not accompanied by love on your part, then you do not have wisdom.  Keep your mouth quiet, because you are no prophet of God.  The true prophet of God -- and the only one who should be speaking on His behalf -- is the one who has the love of God in his soul and the wisdom of God in his heart.

On the Prophet of this Age, Part I

Today, upon the mention by an old friend of DL memories, I visited my Xanga for the first time in months. As I read the posts from my first step on campus to the beginning of my relationship, I had to smile.  The youthful naivete mingled with genuine insight and wholehearted faith left a very distinct flavor.  In some sense, I wish I was as wise now as I was then - for after all, it is the foolish that God has made wise!  I benefitted from reading those reflections spiritually.

On the other hand, they were the musings of a theologically and emotionally immature youth. The past three years have changed my understanding of the world, God's grace, and the light of eternity in ways immeasurable.  I have immersed myself in thinkers, philosophers, and the Word of God, and have chewed the meat and spit out the bones.  Perhaps the biggest impact my education had on me was spiritual, and that is by far worth the expense.

My first reaction was to chuckle at the incomplete-but-good-hearted thoughts of the college freshman.  But my second reaction was to ponder afresh the dangers of "wisdom" from education.

One of the necessary characteristics of the theory major is the tendency to view oneself as a prophet of the age.  With eyes opened to the rich tradition of the past, we students were sobered, disgusted, and terrified by the state of American evangelicism.  We recognize the shoddy theology, the detachment from any substantive thought, the lack of eternal perspective.  I started as a college student with a love for contemporary worship.  I graduated with a love for liturgy, church structure, and deep study of not only Biblical thinkers but secular theologians (a paradox it may seem - but then, one cannot help being a theologian).    We are all deeply impressed by a love for the Good, and thirst after a community, in which virtue is more easily inculcated.

Yet in my studies, I was continually surprised at the cynicism of those who supposedly had knowledge of such wonderful traditions.  It is amazing to me that those whose souls have come into contact with the rich traditions and thoughts of the past can disdain those who have not yet plumbed those depths.  They can quote the right thinkers; they can tell you why your theology is wrong and why your church is unbiblical.  Their intellectual arguments are well-crafted and in general, I agree with their conclusions.  But I cannot understand how they, who have seen the glory of God, can be so bitter in their assessment of others.  How they, having come to understand the errors of their thoughts, can have no patience for those who need to be trained.

Their message is lost because there is one thing they do not understand: knowledge is a poor substitute for virtue.  Is it not the devil himself who walked in the desert with the Son of God incarnate?  And did he not himself quote the Scriptures, the Word of God?

I have all too often watched my fellow theory majors thirst for knowledge, dig into their studies with the intention of "broadening the soul."  But the reputation for snobbery is, I'm afraid, well-deserved.  In their attempts to train their minds, they have failed to apply their vast amounts of knowledge to their lives. 

The well-learned man must be the virtuous man.  If he is not virtuous, then he is not well-learned, for he has missed the most important lesson of all.  He has failed to serve the Good and serves only himself.  In that failure, his knowledge has not passed into wisdom, which is the principle thing.


I find the naivete of the girl writing the Xanga posts rather refreshing, for she wrote from a mind which feared God.  With that base, one cannot help but to become well-learned under the tutelage of the Great Tutor.  Without that base, one can only accumulate knowledge, and never wisdom.

The Art of the Commonplace: Marriage

I was jogging this morning when I caught a glimpse of the sparkly wonder that is my engagement ring.  When I exercise, or do anything that involves getting dirty, I remove all my jewelry and nice clothes in favor of grungier, less valuable things. And yet this most valuable possession of mine is always with me, whatever it is that I'm doing (excluding activities that may end up in no ring at all, like swimming at the beach!).  It's beautiful -- and not the type of thing I think of when I hear the words "jogging apparel."

And yet, there is goes with me as I run.  It is a mystery, a treasure, living in the routine that is everyday life.  It is beauty and wonder and love taking part in ordinary, commonplace tasks like vacuuming and chopping onions and taking out the trash. 

What a symbol of marriage!  A sacred institution of God, translated into everyday banalities and ordinary life.  It is a mystery, a picture of Christ and the church, a joining of two separate lives into one indistinguishable entity.  But it is also doing the dishes and watching a movie and talking through the monthly budget.  We fail to see the mystery because it is obscured by the all-too-obvious, but the mystery remains to be pondered.

Which, by the way, reminds me of something our pastor was preaching on in Revelation 21. The Church is compared to a jasper stone, which apparently is a gem very similar to a diamond.  Our pastor used the point to illustrate the glory of the church as a reflection of Christ's glory (because diamonds reflect light), but that got me to thinking again about my engagement ring.  This ring, a symbol of Josh's love for me and the worth that I have to him, is only a tiny picture of the value that the Church is to the Lamb.  Josh's investment in the ring signified his willingness to provide for me, to financially commit to me.  How much more has Christ committed to His own diamond, His Church!  How much He paid first to buy it, then to refine, cut, and set it so it would be ready to reflect His glory.

Back to the Future

In the era of relevance, "Christian hipsters," and fun churches, tradition seems pretty much lost in the woodwork.  Perhaps that's why a Presbyterian church appeals to me -- the structure and liturgies of Catholic and Anglican churches speak to my heart as the preservation of an ancient tradition.  A tradition ordained and inspired by God, and enriched by the insights and spiritual walks of millions of Christians over the ages.  I get lost in the prayers and contemplations of millions of souls, not dead, but worshiping alongside me.  Paul (I believe) said it well in Hebrews:

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect.

This was a truth particularly close to my heart in Europe.  Worshiping in grand old cathedrals was richer for the knowledge that my soul was not alone in my worship.  Even now, my praise mingles with the praise of the millions who have gone before, and still live on in the presence of my God and my King.  "Blessed are they who dwell in Your house, for they will still be praising You!"  Though I may seem to be alone spiritually in dead American Christianity, my soul never lacks in companionship at the throne of God.

But back to the prompt of this post.  While reading in Jeremiah, I came across this gem of a verse:

Stand by the roads, and look,

and ask for the ancient paths,

where the good way is; and walk in it,

and find rest for your souls.

The ancient paths.  Even the phrase does good for my soul.  The church has no need to be "relevant" -- how much more relevant can Christ get?  But the ancient paths?  Oh, the joy of knowing that I walk after and with the souls of those who have loved and trusted God!  They have been young, and now are old, and yet God has not forsaken them.

My soul can rest in God's faithfulness as I walk in the ancient paths.  I can benefit from their struggles, recorded and passed down through writing.  I can revel in His faithfulness to them in the past, which demands my present trust.  And I can rejoice that He will use my experience too to benefit believers in the future.

The universal church is not just a concept.  It is a reality that should be meditated on and savored.  For on the ancient paths, time is eclipsed and the worship of God is the meeting place at which one generation can praise His works to another.

Hallelujah!