Cracks on my forehead

Recently my three year old asked why I had cracks on my forehead. After a quick explanation of the nature of wrinkles and an anti-aging shopping spree, I came to a realization: the more I worry the bigger my cracks get but am I really doing anybody any good? The answer is quite obvious, not at all.

You see, it is human nature to think that we are in charge; we are the ones spinning the wheels, making things happen. Because of this, we think we are responsible for all failure and success, for things getting done or not, when in fact none of it is in our hands. Sure, we can’t sit back and watch the world zoom by. I am not by any means advocating laziness but rather trying to remind us that the burden does not lie not in our hands. No, rather what is in our hands are the tools, the time, and the ability to put forth our best effort. Most importantly, in our hands lay the foundations of a prayer life that will bring us closer to God, that will shelter us beneath His wings, that will prompt us forward when needed, and open doors when necessary. This being said, it is still very hard not to fall into this worry “trap”. Things happen. Life changes direction regularly and without warning, leaving many of us, particularly those of us who are creatures of habit, panting for breath before we begin sprinting in the new direction. When this happens I do what almost every woman does: I worry and I talk.

I worry and talk, and worry and talk, until all of a sudden two things dawn on me. I am not in charge after all. The only thing I am in charge of is remembering that I am not in charge and turning my heart toward the One who is. And the One in charge, the One who loves me best, desires only to bless me beyond my wildest dream. These two things I know as hard facts. This does not mean everyday goes perfectly smoothly, that I have all the answers or that I have completely stopped worrying and exist in a state of constant peace. It does mean, when things change or go wrong, I know that “although today He prunes my twigs with pain, yet doth His blood nourish and warm my root; Tomorrow I shall put forth buds again and clothes myself in fruit.” (Christina Georgina Rossetti)

Though the desires of my heart may fluctuate His are constant. He desires nothing more or less than me: to love me, to bless me, to spend time with me. So I will no longer furrow my brow in worry creating cavernous creases along my forehead. Instead I will cup my hands and direct them to the One I love, ready to receive whatever blessings He may have for me.

Taste and See.

I am an educated woman; I have two masters degrees and possibly a PhD (if I can ever figure out how to find the correct person to address my application to instead of being stuck in phone-hold hell). I have taught college for several years and traveled the world. However, I have learned more from being a mother and watching a one year old eat hay than from all the multitude of books and articles I have ever read. Let me explain this hay eating thing.

My kids and I love to go to parks and various nature centers in our community. Frankly, this is even what we do when we can manage to go on our rare mini vacations. It’s free, healthy, fun, and free (on a single mom budget this is really important). So, on a lovely fall afternoon, we packed the car with snacks, strollers, and other paraphernalia required for traveling with this clown crew and headed to one of our favorite haunts: a nature center with a living 1800s farm If you go at the right time of day, you can help feed the animals, watch the farmers prepare meals in the kitchen, and even run the little forge.

Usually due to our failed attempts at leaving the house on time, we miss the animal feeding time. Fortunately for us, cows are messy eaters and hay can be easily found all around the outer perimeter of the cow pen. This is perfect; we can not do any harm to the farmhouse, forge or animals and we get to enjoy the trails and feed the cow by picking up the dropped hay and holding it out for Penny, the cow, to eat.

Before I go on, I need to give you two bits of information that are key to understanding this story. First of all, Penny loves hay in a seemingly deranged sort of way. I have never seen a cow dance or gallop or even smile, but this one does. This crazy bovine knows that when she sees kids bend down around her pen and reach in, she is getting the mother load: hay, hay and more hay. This cow will gallop the length of the pen to arrive at a screeching halt, panting and grinning in a really disturbing blue tongued bovine way, and dance. Yes, I do mean dance. She will dance until the children stick a fistful of dirty hay in her slobbery mouth at which time she will look like she has just achieved the seventh heaven realm of cow nirvana. It looks orgasmic. Penny does not just do this once, but for hours, over and over again, until either the children fall down from shear exhaustion, the sun sets, or the hay runs out--which ever comes first.

Second important bit of information here is that my then one year old has always loved food with a gusto matched only by the most avid gourmet. It is actually pretty incredible. I think it is a gift inherited from my father, this love of food. She will look at an unfamiliar food and you can just see the saliva forming in anticipation of the truly delectable result of tasting something new. Never was there a dish too daunting in its appearance or scent for Sophia. She is willing to try anything. Most interestingly, she also communicates her love of food to others. She is one of those rare individuals who could eat aspic of poached chicken guts and make it look good. Just looking at her eating will make you reevaluate what you thought of putrefied shark (a delicacy in Norway).

Combine this orgasmic cow and a one year old with an adventurous palate and what do you get? A hay eating baby. I saw this unfold before my eyes. It was incredible. As a long time teacher, I have watched this process take place many times before but never found it quite so entertaining. I watched as Sophia picked up handful of hay and glanced over at the overexcited cow. She looked back at the hay and then again at the cow. I saw the wheels begin to grind to life as her little mind processed the cows exuberant reaction to eating the hay. I watched as a light bulb turned on and as the realization came to life that if the cow was enjoying this snack so much, why shouldn’t she? Without a thought to texture or appearance, without a care for familiarity, she proceeded to munch on her handful of hay. I guess the texture was a little off putting, but nothing worthwhile comes without effort, so on she munched as the rest of us watched in awe.

I did learn something that day. I discovered why so many of us adults are limited in our ability to enjoy the world around us and the God who loves us. You see we need an adventurous palate to taste and see that the Lord is good. We train our palates to enjoy the familiar and easy things in life, forgoing the deeper pleasures that require a little daring faith on our part. Little children on the other hand have yet to be trained food or life snobs, thumbing their nose at a handful of hay. This is why Jesus valued children and their open enfettered faith so much: it has yet to be encumbered by the limitations this world tends to place on individuals. We are meant to do and live so much more richly than many of us believe or allow ourselves to. We start out with zeal and enthusiasm only to settle for the first comfortable table set before us. We become so familiar and comfortable with it that anything outside of that seems odd, frightening, impossible, and meant to be avoided. If our own mind does not manage to set limits on the life we live, those around us do: “you can not do that, you have five kid,” “that is impossible, you already do enough,” “taking care of your family is more than sufficient.” Limits, negativity, pessimism, fear, and, ultimately, doubt are the enemies of a life well lived. I could live a comfortable little life raising my kids, doing for those around me, teaching my classes. It is familiar, comfortable and, frankly, easy. But I know and see that there is a pile of hay waiting to be tackled, a life so amazing I cannot even picture it. I want to live the life I was meant for, taste the flavors that were created and melded to fit my palate. I refuse to settle any longer. I will gladly grab hold of the example of a one year old and set out on a new adventure. I hope you join me as we embrace the next chapter of God’s plan for us, shedding fear and doubt. I will no longer settle for comfortable when spectacular is just around the corner.

Feeding People. Nourishing Souls.

On Thanksgiving evening a very dear friend of mine opened her restaurant for family and friends to come and enjoy a potluck together. It was a lovely evening, only made more beautiful through the reality that tragedy and hardship live just around the bend. You see, as the party goers were inside relishing and toasting life in the warm glow of good food, great company, and a general abundance of comforts, just outside the doors lay a now homeless woman who had just been beaten by her ex-fiancé. Many would have failed to even notice her. Since the beginning of modern culture these have been considered the untouchables, those shunned by life and society. But my friend saw her, sat with her, helped her into a friend’s car and made sure she went home with someone.

This love of others is the guiding principle behind the project I am embracing. I have come to the conclusion that the best way to love people is by feeding both their physical hunger and their souls. Let me explain. Food is considered by most a mere necessity for survival, giving terms like gourmand a bad name, one implying gluttony and excess. And so food and the dinner table have lost their social position only to be replaced by prefabricated meals that can be made in a hurry so people can move on to more important things. I will argue that if God had intended for food to simply meet a need we would still be eating manna and quail, possibly in pill or powder form now. Instead we have a loving God who not only rejoices in our survival but chooses and desires to lavish us with pleasures. Therefore, food tastes good, colors are beautiful, scents are enticing, enjoyments are bountiful, and life is inspiring.

You see, I believe that God in his infinite wisdom knew that we would always need to pause in the day and eat in order to survive. He also knew that we can not survive on food alone. Food only feed the needs of our bodies but good food, real food takes time and effort and much love. Real food is offered at a table called life where we are meant to sit and partake in the beauty of other people. We are meant to sit and live together. What better place to do that than a table laden with nourishment and affection?

We have lost something of such great value when we gave up the diner table for the hurried life we live: we lost the ability to show hospitality and truly see humanity, particularly to those who are poor and needy. In our hurry, we have created isolated bubbles for ourselves to live in. We miss the riches of living life with other people. People wonder why they feel lonely despite the fact they may live in one of the world’s largest cities surrounded by people many of which they call friend. I would venture to say it is because of the lost art of the dinner table. Where do you feel the least lonely? In a park filled with people? In a club surrounded by hundreds? In a line at the movie theater? Maybe in bed with yet another near stranger? I feel the most satisfied and content at the dinner table not because of the food but because when you truly welcome people into your home and space they feel it and so do you. As you work to fill their stomachs and their souls something miraculous happens: the isolation of this world falls away like scales, the cold mantle of loneliness is shed, and from the inside out a warm glow begins to spread. This is what love of people will do. It is truly amazing. When you show people hospitality and love they get truly filled. I choose to do more than to quiet the pangs of physical hunger that can only be satisfied by a filling spoonful. I hope to fill the hearts of those I feed with a little humanity. I look at those who come to share my table with the kind of love this world no longer chooses to offer, a simple love of people.

You see, Jesus wanted us to care for those who are poor and needy, he wanted us to help and feed them. A pearl of wisdom has escaped us. Though their bodies are hungry and it is good to feed those needs, many, many more are hungrier still because they feel a deep emptiness in their souls. Jesus never looked at those who were going through a difficult time and forgot that they were worthy of his time, effort and love. Sure you can feed a body by throwing a dollar cheeseburger at it but are really considering the human side of that individual, are you making a change, are you filling them up?

This is the reason I have decided to open the Heart and Soul Café. I will offer to feed any who enter the door great food and good company. I will provide computers and college ministry volunteers to help those who have never used a computer look for jobs. I will offer the food and company I would offer my family and friends with all the care and love I put into every tasty morsel of food and motherly wisdom. This will not be a shelter or a soup kitchen but rather a home away from home. I will serve great food to a varied crowd and offer any who enter a chance to partake in the art of the dinner table.