Let's eat.

{Image borrowed from here}

I love the eating process.

All of it. Right down to doing the dishes afterwards (this is a VERY new development that might have it's own post at some point). I love going to the grocery store and filling my cart with bright produce and creamy jars of half & half (you have to go to the uppity stores to find those). I love picking a meal from a mouth-watering picture from a recipe book (er, Pinterest) and then watch as my ingredients come alive in a pan. I love going out to eat. Crunching chips with salsa or dunking bread into oil while someone else is off cooking my dinner. I remember reading a statistic once about how many people in the world live off rice and beans for every meal. It was high. I'm thankful to have the resources to enjoy food the way that I do.

But unfortunately, I don't always take advantage of them. For example, the other day I stopped into Target to grab a few things. This wasn't my usual stroll through the store. I was running late, I was hungry and I had a sleeping baby with me. I swung my cart into the line at the food counter and hastily ordered a hot dog. I weaved in and out of the isles, navigating my red cart with one hand and scarfing down my ketchup-covered lunch with the other. In fifteen minutes, I was loading up my car with a still-sleeping infant and I had fended off my hunger successfully and quickly.

I eat like that more often than I'd like to admit. I don't think ahead and plan a good meal and the next thing you know, I'm shoveling spoonfuls of peanut butter in my mouth to avoid a huge blood sugar meltdown. And that's lunch.

My husband looks at food with a more serious, appreciative eye. He never rushes through a meal, even if it's from a drive-through. When he cooks, it's incredible. His signature dishes are hand-whipped chocolate soufflé, a 16 hour smoked pork shoulder (not including the time it takes to pull it apart for pulled pork sandwiches), and 20 hour smoked ribs. Twenty hours. I don't think I've ever done anything consecutively for twenty hours. When I eat one of Matt's meals, it's a feast. Every bite is worth savoring.

Whether I'm eating a questionable-looking hot dog or biting into a perfectly grilled steak, I'm meeting a need. But one is so, so much better than the other. I'm not condemning the consumption of fast food. I'm convinced you can enjoy quality time with someone in a booth at McDonald's if you want to. I'm just reminding myself that God calls us into a different pace of life than the world sets, and that it applies to everything, even our meals. But especially, our time with him. 

A couple weeks ago, my friend Melanie compared eating fast food to the way we read our Bibles. It really stuck with me. Too often, we rush to consume God's word and race through a couple verses or skim over a chapter. Like scarfing down a burger with one hand while you drive with the other. Then she talked about how we should be feasting on God's word instead. Consuming it with intention and savoring it. As a lover of food and God's word, that illustration has really stuck with me. My free time has become incredibly valuable to me as I spend most of my day meeting Taylor's six-month-old needs. I try to fit in time to read my Bible every day, usually during his first nap. On a good day, I sit at the table with a steamy cup of coffee, maybe a piece of toast, and indulge a chapter or two of whatever book I'm in. I read it twice, my pen underlining words and sentences that move me. Sometimes I can write a few pages in my journal. On really good days, I get a second cup of coffee in. But other times, times when my morning is full and Taylor has no interest in napping, if I get to my Bible, I practically skim over the words with no hope of retaining what I'm reading. 

No matter which way (or how much coffee is involved) I do it, I'm meeting a need; Bible-reading is getting accomplished. But the days when I pour over the words, I appreciate the wisdom that I'm reading. It sinks in and changes the type of person I'll be that day. It gives honor to God's very generous and gracious gift of his story, in print, in my hands. 

When you look in the Bible, you'll notice that very few things are rushed. The Israelites were in slavery for hundreds of years before God revealed a rescue plan. Jacob agreed to wait to marry Rachel for seven years. And then another unexpected seven. Jesus was on earth over thirty years before he started his ministry. God is slow, steady, intentional and patient. He asks us to be too. Why wouldn't we apply those attributes to our Bible reading?

Over the past couple of years, I've been studying the Old Testament with a friend. It has dramatically strengthened my understanding of God's love and faithfulness. The more familiar I am with God's history with Israel, the more my trust in him grows and even trickles down into my daily obedience to him. It didn't happen over night, it took consistent time in God's word.

Some days, all I have time for is reading a few verses off the Bible app on my phone. I think this is better than no Bible-reading at all, but it's nothing compared to deep, thought-provoking studying that propels my faith forward. And more often than not, I have the opportunity for the latter, but don't take it. As we approach the time of year when everything speeds up and blurs by, I'm feeling compelled to prioritize my time with God and, like a good meal with great people, abundantly enjoy it.

Proverbs 31 for the single woman:

I've been reading through Proverbs one chapter at a time this month, and seeing as how it's October 31st today, I landed on Proverbs 31. If you're familiar with the Bible, you know this one. It gives a pretty specific list detailing what it looks like to be a wife of noble character. It's a great list, but I use to struggle with this chapter. It bothered me that the most detailed account in the Bible of a godly woman is a married woman. (Is the chip on my shoulder showing?)

Since I became Matt's wife, my appreciation for Proverbs 31 has grown. Here's what I wish my 19-year-old-self would've seen in this chapter, despite my marital status:

"Work hard at whatever you're doing, whether this means school, ministry, a part time job or all three. Have the discipline to get up early, eat a good breakfast and start the day out well. Later, you'll appreciate establishing these disciplines. Don't be afraid to work long and hard on something, but don't find your worth in your accomplishments. Have eyes that see the poor and a heart that cares for the needy. Plan ahead. Be proactive to be on time, to meet deadlines and to prepare for the unexpected. Be a good roommate to whoever you're living with. Be a good stewart of the home God has blessed you with, whether this is an apartment, a dorm, a house or your parent's basement. Run with an honorable crowd. Don't date someone with a questionable reputation or who is unknown in your community; a godly man is a well-known and well-liked man. Have a sense of humor and a joyful perspective on things; remember that God is taking care of you and you have nothing to fear. Oppose lazy tendencies. Be a woman who finishes what she starts and follows through on her commitments. And lastly (this needs no revision), charm is deceptive, beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised."

I still struggle to fit myself into Scripture sometimes. I read verses that call me into the seemingly unattainable. But my mistake there is trying to make the Bible about me instead of making myself about the Bible.

Whatever you read in the Bible, listen up. The more you immerse yourself in God's word with a willing heart, the more able you are to hear from him, no matter who he's speaking to. (Spoiler alert: he's speaking to you.)

An ode to autumn.

Every year, it happens. Women everywhere greet fall like it's the first time it has ever appeared. We trade in our sandals for boots and our sunglasses for scarves. Pumpkin paraphernalia fills the grocery stores. Your house either smells like spiced candles or toasted pumpkin seeds. (Right now, mine smells like both.) Social media is soaked with #pumpkinspicelattes and family pictures from the corn maze. People love fall. I love fall. 

The obvious reasons for this adoration come to mind, like football and candy corn and the kickoff (pun intended) to the holiday season. But today, as my brown boots crunched bright, yellow leaves on the sidewalk, I realized why fall is so especially lovely to me. 

Summer ends and it's a sad thing, especially if you reside in the northwest. Those three months provide the most beautiful, dry, sunny and enjoyable season of our year. Around this time, we say goodbye to the sun until May and a gray blanket covers the sky for months. Luckily, fall eases us in to that. The air turns crisp overnight, trees explode with color and fog gets caught up in the trees. It's beautiful! 

Fall gives us a little glimmer of beauty as summer dies right before our eyes. Our gardens die, but the sparkling layer of frost over the grass appears. Lush, green trees die a slow, colorful death and brighten up our rainy days. 

A month ago, Matt stood at a podium next to his aunt's coffin during her funeral and prayed a hopeful prayer about the life God offers to us, through his death. Meanwhile, our sweet four-month-old sat on my lap sucking his fingers so loudly I almost slipped out to the lobby. After the service, a frail, older woman with tears in her eyes grabbed my arm and smiled. She told me that hearing the sounds of a new baby during a funeral gave her perspective on death. It was beautiful, she said.

Beauty in death. That has the gospel written all over it. It might seem like a stretch, but I think the beauty of fall is hopeful and gospel-like. 

So with fingerless gloves, I raise my mug of cider to you, fall. You make the death of summer so beautiful. Cheers.

Dirty stables.

It's been quiet around here. We are at the tail-end of a very busy four months. In March, Matt and I moved to the Portland area (that's a nice way of saying Vancouver) to be near my family. At the end of May, we welcomed our sweet Taylor Matthew into the world and enjoyed a few quiet weeks together as a new family of three. Then, we enjoyed three months of visitor after visitor, trip after trip, diaper rash after diaper rash. It was a whirlwind of a summer. 

At the beginning of September, we moved! I knew it'd be an adjustment with a newborn, but we were ready. Three days later, we got a call from family in Alabama telling us that Matt's aunt lost her battle with cancer. We dropped everything to fly out there and jumped into funeral-planning, eulogy-writing and morale-boosting. 

Two weeks later, we came home to half-unpacked boxes, bare walls and a few very thoughtful house-warming touches by my parents. We settled in a bit more (plugged in the record player) and unpacked the necessities (the coffee maker), but focused our energy on my best friend's wedding that we were both heavily involved in. 

Life has been wonderfully full. But I'm tired! Breastfeeding, moving, starting a new (very part-time) job, traveling and matron-of-honoring has worn me out. But most of all, our messy, distraught house is driving me crazy. 

This morning, over coffee and a pumpkin poptart, I read this proverb: 

"Without oxen a stable stays clean, but you need a strong ox for large harvest." 

I feel like we have so much stuff and I'll never be able to manage it with a busy calendar and needy baby. I want order. I want the sink to stay free of dishes. 

But when you have ox, you have stables to clean. It's a mark of being blessed. But it comes with work to be done. I'd rather have a busy calendar, a cluttered home and my hands full than be bored and alone. 

I also really like this verse because it implies that there's cleaning to do. Yes, that's part of it; part of having a large harvest. Dishes are the result of having a meal to eat. Loads of laundry are from having a full closet. Heaps of diapers are from having a healthy baby. Having my needs met is a huge blessing that I too often take for granted. 

As we adjust to this season of life, my hope is that I'll manage my time well. But I also hope that I give myself a little grace, and remember that a list of chores and to-dos is really, quite a lovely gift. 

A visit in the wilderness.

I'm reading Exodus right now and this morning I finished up chapter 18. Moses and the Israelites are currently trudging through the wilderness after their recent escape from Egypt when Moses' father-in-law, Jethro, pays him a visit. They go into Moses' tent, sit down and catch up. Moses tells him all about what happened with Pharaoh in Egypt and about all the hardships they experienced along the way. (All those plagues? Pretty good story material.) Then, it says,

"Jethro was delighted when he heard about all the good things the Lord had done for Israel as he rescued them from the hand of the Egyptians. 'Praise the Lord,' Jethro said, 'for he has rescued you from the Egyptians and from Pharaoh. Yes, he has rescued Israel from the powerful hand of of Egypt! I know now that the Lord is greater than all other gods, because he rescued his people from the oppression of the proud Egyptians.' " 

This scenario looks a lot like the fellowship I experience today. A friend comes to visit, we plop on the couch, maybe cup our hands around mugs of coffee and share hardships, catch up. Like Moses, I need the encouragement of a friend during a long trial. And like Jethro, I'm reminded that God is greater than all other gods as I listen to someone else's rescue story.

Later in the chapter, Jethro gives Moses some advice and encourages him to share the work load of ministry with other capable, trust-worthy leaders (18:14).

This chapter prompted me to reflect on times I've been visited in the wilderness. A couple years ago I went through something really hard and was the saddest I think I've ever been in my life. I couldn't even bear to go to the grocery store. (Very little comes between me and my appetite, so this is a great mark of my mental health at the time.) I hated going to my classes and was completely unmotivated to complete any homework. I was fragile. As a verbal processor, I'd often attempt to talk through how I was feeling but barely make it past the first few words without crying.

When I look back on that time, I realize that circumstance was a huge part of God rescuing me. But in the midst of it, I was incredibly overwhelmed. My sweet friend Brittney was a huge support to me. She'd come over and we'd cook dinner together. She'd make me laugh. She'd help me with my homework. She'd know when to pour me a glass of wine and when to take it away. She escorted me to the grocery store. She got me out of bed, out of the house and out of my funk just by showing up. She visited me in my wilderness. She's still an incredible friend to me and I feel so grateful when I think back on how God used her in my life during that season. Ironically, she often says the same to me. Because true fellowship, as seen in Exodus 18, mutually encourages both parties.

That chapter motivates me to be a friend like Jethro. To pack up and head into the thick of someone's journey. To encourage them, listen to their hardships and remind them that we can't do it alone. And we're not suppose to. And then, to acknowledge what God has done! Because even if we don't currently feel rescued from our circumstances, he has ultimately rescued us and there is much to celebrate in that alone.