Memories and Proposal Brownies

I'm making my world famous "proposal" brownies tonight. We are having dinner with some friends this weekend and we were asked to bring dessert. I found the recipe in my mom's old recipe box years ago. The most important recipes were kept in her blue gingham cookbook, the pages covered in a mix of my mom's hand writing and my grandmother's. The recipes she saw from a magazine or the newspaper that caught her eye? Those ended up in the newer tin. Not to be confused with the older tin that had hand written recipe cards from friends. The world we used to live in feels so at odds with the way we live now, doesn't it?  Now, I google everything and pick the recipe that looks best! I don't even read the reviews!! Back then, you knew the recipe was probably good if it was hand written on a card; the probability increased if the recipe card had food stains on it. 

I don't know where the brownie recipe truly came from. It might have been a friend, but I can't recall if there was a name on it. I do remember that it was written on the side of a square tissue box. (It was that, or the back side of a greeting card. The truth might be lost on this one.) Simple recipe, very few instructions. Butter. Sugar, Vanilla. Eggs. Flour. There was a time in my life when I made them so frequently that, even though I always pulled the recipe card out, I never needed it. The recipe moved with me when I graduated college. At one point, the recipe made it into the Notes app on my iPod Touch as a back up, something I'm grateful for because eventually I misplaced the card. However, somewhere in the last 10 years, that iPod crashed and I've been unable to restore it. I panicked, thinking all was lost. I found it in an email draft and it is now replicated in my iPhone Notes app, the instructions almost completely removed.

I don't know when I started making them, but my earliest memory is of them being the biggest hit in my church youth group. This is also where they got their name. It was James, because, of course it was. James was 4 years younger than me, so we didn't always run in the same circles, but I guarantee you knew a James. Loud (bless him). Silly. The first person to make you laugh because he never stopped joking around. He was the energy behind everyone. Played drums (again, because of course he did). Again, how it started, I'll never remember, but I have a vivid memory of him, walking down the church hallway with a mouth full of brownie asking me to marry him. 

Now. There is a small chance that this is an amalgamation of memories. The main reason I say this is because the church had a pretty strict policy about food in other parts of the church that were not the Fellowship Hall. Nevertheless, it is the memory I will continue to keep. 

This brownie marriage proposal joke was perpetuated for what felt like years, though I can't really remember how long it went on for. It was a joke that James told. It was a joke that James' friends told. It was a joke that James' mother started telling (to this day, I'm still not sure how much of it she believed and how much of it she repeated because it made everyone laugh). I became very secretive of my recipe, to the point where I would kindly refuse to share the recipe with even close friends. Select friends received the recipe (on a recipe card to put in the Very Important Recipe Box) and a bag of chocolate chips as a wedding present. 

James died 14 years ago almost exactly. It's funny, the last few years have passed by with just a small blip in my heart every March. The first five years were excruciating. 

I wonder who James would have married. Would she have minded if we were all friends still who joked about getting married to each other (even though there was never much of a chance of that happening. Sorry bud.) Would I have given her the brownie recipe if only because it was James? What would he make of MY marriage? 

Remember how I said James was 4 years younger and I didn't run in his circle too much? That all changed after he died. Our friend group got smaller and closer. Suddenly, I was a college graduate hanging out with and enjoying spending time with college freshmen. It didn't seem to bother us, though. And then, by some weird twist of fate,  one of those college freshmen started to fall in love with me. I was very much against it, for the record. I did not make things easy for him. But we became friends. Good friends. Genuine friends. 

And, as they say, one thing lead to another, and well, here we are. Married for almost 11 months. And I can almost hear James laughing at it all.

 The brownies don't get made nearly as often as they used to these days. Sugar is, of course, the enemy. Carbs are the enemy. Chocolate is the enemy. Take your pick of whatever health craze is in vogue at the moment. They are only made for special events because if I made a pan of brownies for myself I would eat the entire pan too quickly. My self control is just not that good. (And I don't think my husband's is any better.) 

 I don't think the brownies brought me my husband. I don't think he married me for my brownies, even though he is a massive fan. But they did help me make friends and brought laughter and joy into my life, and I'll never forget it. Not for one single day. 

 

P.S. I wrote this blog more than a year and a half ago. I find myself making my brownies again and I remembered that I wrote this and never published it. I'm very out of practice (both baking and writing) and I'm feeling the awareness of that as I get ready to hit "publish". I've probably edited this piece more than any other piece I've ever written (including my senior thesis in college), but it still feels like something is missing. It feels unresolved. The grief is still there, when I think about and remember James. Marriage is still new in areas. Life keeps going. We wake up each day and try again, grateful even in the darkness of the season to be given a new day. 

Maybe that is why this post feels unresolved -- the story isn't over. Each day adds more chapters to the story and I'm waiting for the resolution of all the questions and unknowns to unfold. It's like the last few chapters of the murder mystery novel (The Thursday Murder Club by Richard Osman, of late) where all the pieces fall into place, connections are made, motives revealed, and justice is served, if you are very lucky. Or maybe I'm just wildly out of practice and that's the reason it feels like something is missing. Maybe the feeling will go away after I publish; maybe it won't. Maybe five posts from now it will feel better. That's the thing with stories-- you need to eventually turn the page if you want to find out what happens next. This is me, turning the page. 

P. P. S. When you find a good recipe, do your future self a favor and write it down or print it out. I went to look for a recipe on a website that I have been using for the last few years and it was just gone. Poof. I got a 404 error and my heart sank. The internet is wild and wonderful, but much more wild these days and the days are not long enough to continually look up new recipes for something you love only to have your heart broken. So please, write it down. Save it. I'll even buy you a binder or tin to keep them in. 

 

 

A Thrill of Hope

I've being following along with She Reads Truth advent devotionals this year. There's a whole thing about me wanting to purchase this beautiful bound book that they put together (with all the advent readings, artwork, scripture, etc.) but just couldn't justify the price, but then a friend reminded me that it is all online for FREE so...here we are. 

The reading today talked about hope and joy. How hoping for things at times seems too painful because of disappointment in the past. Man, I felt that. There have been so many times in my life, past and very recent present, that I have been intensely disappointed. 

Betrayed.

Let down. 

Abandoned.

Hope seems useless when things keep blowing up in your face. Looking forward to good things seems pointless because of that tiny annoying voice (that eventually gets louder than you can bear) that says you don't deserve good things.  

In Luke 1:13, Gabriel appears to Zechariah and tells him such news that Zechariah has trouble believing it: "Do not be afraid,Zechariah, because your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John."

The story isn't new to me, but the thing I noticed when I read it this time was that Gabriel said "Your prayer has been heard." Could he be talking about an old prayer from a young Zechariah and a young Elizabeth? That's always been what I thought. But this time...what if it was a prayer that Zechariah became too used to praying that he forgot he was saying the words? Or what if his faith was so strong that he continued praying for a son, even past the age when it should be possible, because he believed that God could do mighty and miraculous things? 

Your prayer has been heard. 

You are not betrayed. You have not been let down. 

You have not been abandoned. 

Later in the story, after we find out Elizabeth is pregnant and has been secluded for five months, she says, "The Lord has done this for me." (Luke 1:25) She knows. This is no small wink from heaven that might have something to do with her story. This is a very personal event that tells her that God heard her prayer, saw her want, and gave her a son. 

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. 

Ya'll I am tired. This year has been exhausting. That tiny thrill of hope in my soul keeps burning out. I'm afraid to let it in because of all the hurt that has happened. In this waiting time of Advent, I keep reading about Emmanuel, God with us. Fulfillment of prophecy. And I keep coming back to that phrase: a thrill of hope the weary world rejoices. This hope, this Jesus--is enough to make the weary rejoice. And from great personal experience, when you are world weary, not a lot makes you rejoice.  

May that thrill of hope be enough for you this season to say that prayer one more time, to ask God that impossible thing that he has put in your heart. Maybe even to pray a prayer for a situation that seems hopeless, one that you can't see a solution for. 

That thrill? I'm not sure it's very big. It's the goosebumps on your arms, the flutter in your stomach. 

But it is enough.

Everything I Need

I want a lot of things. I'm sure I'm not alone in this.

If you look at my Target, Ulta, or Amazon wish list, this will be clear to you (if not a little embarrassing to me).

I go through my day thinking of things I want: more sleep, more tea or coffee (or another Moka pot of coffee, which is my new favorite thing), more couch time, more TV time, more cleaning time. Okay maybe not so much that last one. But you get the idea. More time.

As I was craving more sleep time (which I'm still kinda blaming on jet lag to alleviate the guilt of sleeping my only free day away...), I found this on Instagram.

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A post shared by The Gospel Project (@gospelproject_) on Apr 5, 2019 at 5:00am PDT

This is a familiar verse. I learned it in pre-school. It is often quoted at funerals. I learned it "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want." I grew up and learned that "want" meant more than just "desiring things," which I think was hard for me as a child. The Bible says I shall not want! Here it could also mean "I lack nothing," which is also a little hard to process.  Today, the translation caught me off guard. I have what I need. 

I'm not sure how many times I've looked back on a day and said, "I had everything I needed today." If I had to guess, I'd say never. Don't we always want more out of a day? But this verse, with beauty and simplicity, says that with God as my shepherd, I have what I need. Excuse the short grammar lesson here, but the semicolon that connects these two phrases tells us that they are closely related. They go together.  If, then. If God is my shepherd, then I have what I need. 

Like I mentioned, I'm a little jet lagged. Traveling all the way to New Zealand and back will do that to you, I guess. Since I've been back, I've been thinking a lot about what I have and what I don't have.  I have a place to live and closets full of clothes. After living out of a carry-on suitcase for two weeks, I feel overwhelmed with clothing choices. (Is that going to stop me from going shopping today? It is not.) I have a job. Actually, I have two jobs. I have good friends and family (and friends who are like family). 

But even in all that, there are still things I feel I want. And in the same way that I feel overwhelmed with my clothing choices now that I'm back, the wants of my heart started to overwhelm my mind. 

So this morning, reading that in God I have all that I need, my heart could finally rest. It's okay to have wants and desires, I know this. It says in Psalm 37:4 "Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." The New Testament tells us that our Heavenly Father gives good gifts to those who ask (Matthew 7:11). 

I won't stop asking. I won't stop chasing after God, delighting in the things he has already given me. 

But today? 

Today He is my shepherd; I have everything I need.  

Progress, not Perfection

I know I've said it before, more times than I can count, but it always surprises me when I see it happen. You know what I'm talking about? When everything in your life -- sermons, friends, devotionals, that guy on the radio -- points to a truth you needed to hear? 

Sometimes you need to hear a truth a lot before it actually sinks in. At least, I do. 

Last week, one of my #100DaysToBraveSummer devotionals had Psalm 139:14 as the verse of the day. 

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

Such a popular verse, heavily quoted, and with good reason. But a few months ago, I found that I loved verse 16 even more, though I hardly ever saw it quoted.

"Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

Imagine my surprise when I saw it on a slide during a recent sermon. Okay, Pastor. You have my attention! Actually, the whole sermon caught my attention. Not only had my pastor used my new favorite verse, he continued the whole "say yes to God" theme that Annie has been teaching us from Day 1. How do you become brave? Start saying "yes" to God. Don't wait until the fear goes away. Don't wait until you feel equipped. Say "yes" to what God has next. 

Y'all, I needed to hear that. 

The beginning of June started out okay, but by week two? I was overwhelmed, anxious, a little terrified, and very exhausted. Because I still hadn't carved out a specific time for doing 100 Days to Brave, I missed a lot of days. And even though Annie told us from the beginning to just jump back in when we miss days, that rule-follower-God-won't-listen-if-you-mess-even-just-a-little-bit part of my brain has me feeling like a failure. It starts to tell me that I HAVE to finish the days I missed BEFORE I jump back in. Like I've let Annie down, like I won't be "fully brave" if I skip those days. 

How crazy is that? 

I'm listening to a Matt Chandler series on James while I get ready for work these days, and one of my favorite things he says in the series is that we are working on progress, not perfection. He says it in almost every sermon and I'm so glad he does. It is slowly becoming something my brain spits out at me when I start feeling down about things. Progress, not perfection. Progress, not perfection. 

Repetition is used throughout the Bible to emphasize importance. I don't think it's a stretch to say that hearing truths repeated in different ways, in different areas of your life is used for the same purpose. If you are hearing truths repeated, listen. Tell someone what you are sensing from God and ask them to pray with you or for you. Sometimes saying things out loud helps YOU hear it better, too. 

P.S. Case in point? I had to retype this entire post just to get it to publish. Okay, God. I see you. Progress, not perfection. 

P. P. S. We are halfway through #100DaysToBraveSummer but it is NOT too late to join in! Grab a copy and jump in. July 27th is Day 61. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to turn around and run the devotional again. It is that good, I promise. 

#100DaysToBraveSummer

This post started last Tuesday on one of my other social media outlets and as I continued to type I realized that maybe it was a blog post instead of an update. I'm a little rusty so if it feels a little disjointed, that's because it is. 

What happened last Tuesday that started this blogging idea again? 

Annie Downs. You know, like usual. 

Way back in 2015 (good gracious, has it been that long?) I was working my way through Annie's book Let's all be Brave. I still haven't made my way through it, just in case you were wondering. She later released a devotional called 100 Days to Brave, but since I still haven't finished her other brave book, I didn't think I could pick up her new one. Days turned to weeks and I forgot about all of it. 

I did a search on my blog and somehow only mentioned Annie three times on here? Anyway, I feel like we are friends since we share a love for Scotland (and of the three blog posts, two of them mention Annie in conjunction with Scotland so...) and she turned me on to my resurrected summer music obsession, The Lone Bellow. She speaks my language in so many things and I don't feel so alone in the struggle. Her words challenge me, which is how I got into this whole thing in the first place. 

So when she started #100daystobravesummer read along last week, I thought I would be safe following her first week on Instagram and then moving on with my life. Except, because it is Annie you guys, I read the first two days and decided that this was something my heart needed. I need to be reminded, and more than just on Sunday morning, that I was created to be brave and created for a purpose. I need to be reminded that no one lies to me quite like I do (okay, that one was a Matt Chandler quote, but Annie talks about it too!). And that in order to combat the lies you need to KNOW and BELIEVE the truth about yourself, the truth that Jesus says about you. 

And that is how I started my 100 Days to Brave. 

Sometimes it is hard. Sometimes there are great truths that make me want to camp out on a single day for about a week. Each day feels big and weighty and that alone is intimidating to me. But Annie says we were created to be brave, so I guess I'm going to keep at it. I'm going to try blogging through this summer, mostly because I miss it. I miss creating in the way that feels most natural to me. And hey, diving into a blog that's been on snooze for the last six months is a little brave, right? 

PS If you want to join me, grab a book and dive in! We started on Memorial Day so Tuesday, June 5th puts us on Day 9. 

Finding Joy

I'm grabbing a few moments on this cold Sunday while my tea is too hot to drink and the library is temporarily settled. (Moments like this are few and far between these days!)

I say it every year: finals is simultaneously my favorite and least favorite time of the semester. This year is no exception. Last week was the last week of classes. It was hectic and stressful and was the first time I had a student cry on me about a grade. (The test was taken again, a better grade was achieved, everyone is doing great.)

This week, exam week, is sometimes easier, though not without its own stresses. There is last minute research (that probably should have been done a few weeks ago), last ditch efforts to write 4 papers in three days, and attempts to cram everything you learned all year onto ONE cheat index card. Of course the biggest concern on student's minds is, 'What if the library runs out of snacks before everyone is done studying?!" Don't worry, y'all. I've got popcorn and cookies coming out of my ears. We will be just fine. 

The first few hours today were busy, but honestly? Oh man I loved them. I got to connect with a few of my regulars as well as some of my Exam Regulars.

There was a moment today when I looked at myself and said, "Girl, you LOOK happy."  Feelings are sometimes unreliable in their ability to help you understand the world around you. They are real because they are part of your experience, but sometimes yeah, unreliable. But today, in that moment? My feelings and my reality were the same: I WAS happy. 

It's been a hard year. Not even touching my personal life, work has had more than a few ups and downs. I had three different bosses this year, not to mention an interim person to report to, as well as staff changes at Old Navy. I saw student workers graduate; I had a new batch of student workers start this fall. I had really productive months, and I've also had some really unproductive months. Isn't life a balance anyway? 
So to be able to stop and recognize a good day, I mean, a really good day? I love it. 


As we step into the second week of Advent, I'd like to encourage you to notice those moments. Notice the moments that leave a smile on your face and peace in your heart. 

They might be when you are at work doing what you absolutely love. 

They might be when you finally get home from work to the people that you love. 

And if you have to create your moment? Go for it. Make yourself a cup of tea and turn on that Christmas music.

Notice when you are using your gifts to serve others. 

Look for peace. Recognize joy when you see it. Call them by name and take a moment to be grateful for the gifts that don't need to be wrapped in colorful paper.

Some Sunday School Thoughts

(I'm going to start this post like I haven't been MIA for the last few months and jump right in and trust that we are friends enough for you to forgive me. Thanks in advance.)

We are halfway through our two part Sunday School class discussing Lee Strobel's Case for Christ and Case for Creation books. The Case for Christ I'm more familiar with, though I'm not sure when I would have actually gone through it. I have the book he wrote and dug it out to read at the recommendation of a friend, in conjunction with the class. (I'll confess right now that I also accidentally picked up Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchet's Good Omens around the same time. Guess which one I finished? Yeah, if you guessed the book that would be least relevant to my Sunday school class, you would be correct.) I've missed the first two classes for Case for Creation so I wasn't really sure what to expect in class. I was blown away by some of the intelligent explanations about creation and how some experts talk about creation ex nihilo and scientific evidence in the same breath without contradiction. I love that. At one point, someone in the class drew attention to the fact that "scientific theories change all the time any way!" in, what seemed to be, an attempt to discredit science and bring focus back on the consistency of the Bible. 

My non-scientific heart cried a little. I was reminded of something I read from C. S. Lewis over lent this season (and something I've heard from Matt Chandler a time or two) and eventually chimed in.

Lewis asks the following question: How can an unchanging system survive the continual increase of knowledge? He posits at one point that Christians have little to fear from the acquisition of new scientific knowledge. If we start with belief in the Bible's consistency and infallibility, we are then measuring science against it, not the other way round. But of course, science isn't necessarily consistent! Like the commenter in class stated, scientific theories can change. But (and here is the part I really love), Lewis says that wherever you see real progress in knowledge (or what I sometimes will call "new knowledge") there is some knowledge that is not superseded. 

New knowledge does not necessarily supersede old knowledge. 

I mean, isn't that just the best gift we as Christian's can be given when we are interacting with the scientific community? You want to tell me that this rock is a million years old? Matt Chandler says, "Awesome. Like, where did you find that?!" No, no wait! It's FIVE million years old! Again, Chandler says, "That is incredible!" 
Does the age of the rock change God's existence or my belief that he created the world? Nope. "But it went from one million to five million! That's a huge difference." Our understanding of the scientific world changes with every new discovery that is made. I mean, people once thought that the world was flat and you could sail off the edge. We are continually learning things about the world around us, things that maybe our ancestors never dreamed we would know. 

How do I not lose my faith when science starts telling me things about the world that the Bible doesn't mention? 

Easy.

My belief isn't in the scientific discovery of the day. My belief is in the One that crafted our universe out of nothing. The One who keeps a storehouse full of snow, waiting until the time is right to release it. Do I get excited when new discoveries are made? You bet I do! Y'all remember those 7 new planets they found earlier this year at only 40 light years away? If Earth is the only habitable planet, why did God bother making anything else in our universe? Was it so we could explore and learn about the created world? Did he do it just to show off? Or was it so we could see that the God who created the stars, the moon, the sun, and all the planets (known and unknown) created Earth uniquely and specifically for us? 

I know people sometimes think that because God is SO BIG he couldn't possibly be concerned about a single individual life in this world. But man, isn't that what he is showing us through nature? Of all the planets he created, he put humans on the only one that is able to sustain life. 

So let the rocks be seven million years old, let galaxies be discovered 400 light years away. Let your scientific theories change over time, becoming more accurate, more specific as knowledge increases. 

God still created the rock.