a holy week

"Holy Week." All my life, I heard that as a title.

This Thursday in Bible class, Pastor said it differently. It was like "holy" was an adjective for the "week" that is coming up. "During this holy week" instead of "during this Holy-Week."

Hmmm.
The week where a holy God did holy things.
The week where we learn what holiness is.
The week wherein we are made holy.

Zoe

Two weeks old.

All Signed Up

Registration began this morning for the CNA classes at our local tech school. To be admitted to the RN program, a student must already have the Certified Nursing Assistant training under his belt. Demand for those classes is high. The school told us that, if Andrew really wanted the class, we should be logged on to his account prior to 7:00, and register on-the-dot, when the atomic clock changed from 6:59 to 7:00. A little stressful to wonder whether he'd swoop in and get one of the open slots. But he did!!!

Hooray! He's also signed up for his CPR class in June.

Next job is to buy scrubs and a pair of white tennis shoes. (White tennies is no biggie for most students -- little girls with size 7 feet -- but when Bigfoot has to go shoe shopping....)

Paul's Tears

When Paul is headed off to Jerusalem for Pentecost, knowing that something really bad is awaiting him, he skips Ephesus but takes time to visit with the Ephesian pastors in Miletus. He reminds the pastors that they know he has served the Lord "with many tears and trials." During Bible class this week, Pastor pointed out how we are prone to think of Paul's tears as the results of getting beaten or stoned or chased out of town. We think he's sad because people are perturbed with him and wanting to do him harm. (And there may be some truth to that. Nobody likes to be hated.) But when we read Romans 9-10, we realize that Paul yearned for the Jews to be saved. His tears were more for them, because of their rejection of the Savior, than tears for himself and his own comfort (or lack thereof).

As he has done all through the book of Acts, Pastor was pointing out how the apostles looked like Jesus. They preached like Jesus. They even did miracles like Jesus. They faced the same Sanhedrin and Roman officials as did Jesus. And here in this passage (20:19) we have Paul grieving over his people's rejection of God's mercy. Sound like Jesus? Remember that story (likewise told by Luke) just before Jesus' death when He wept over Jerusalem? "If only you had known the things that are for your peace!" (19:41).

A Conclusion to the Book of Acts

Pastor commented in Bible class this week that Acts ends abruptly. If you're reading about Paul, you don't get the end of the story. There are several things you continue to wonder about. It seems unfinished.

Theologically, that reflects the truth that the story doesn't end with Paul. "All the things that Jesus began to do and teach" continues in the Church with the apostles and even after that, through today and until the end of the world.

Okay, I've heard that before. Maybe you have too.

What crossed my mind today was "So what did Luke think about this?" Did Luke get hung up on finishing the book? Was it on his to-do list for months and then years? Did he keep thinking that there was more that needed to be said? But when he didn't get it said, he finally just had to give up on the project of finishing the book? This is probably naughty speculation. But I wonder sometimes how our good plans and good intentions may be thwarted by God for a reason that never ever crosses our minds.

Sleeping in Death

It is a curious thing that Christians talk about death as a sleep. We do it because the Apostle Paul did it. It's a word that shows that death is --for the Christian-- but a rest prior to awaking from the tomb in the resurrection of the body.

But I noticed today (in the John 11 reading about Lazarus's raising) that Jesus was the one who said, "Lazarus is sleeping." When the disciples, in their characteristic dunderheadedness, said, "Oh, hey, if he's able to sleep, then he'll be getting better soon," Jesus told them, "Guys, hey, he's dead."

So Paul wasn't inventing some theological lingo. He just repeated what Jesus had said -- which is a very good way to be safe in your theology.

Converted Rice

On the Learn-Something-New-Every-Day front:

I really believe in whole foods. I don't buy instant rice; I buy brown whole-grain rice. I see bags of Uncle Ben's Converted Rice on the shelf. I never knew what it was. Converted? Converted from what? To what? Sounds pretty processed to me.

But after reading Richard Blunt recently on beans & rice, I learned what converted rice is. "Converted rice" is parboiled rice, rice that is boiled a bit, but not cooked all the way. The parboiling helps to drive some of the nutrients into the rice grains. Then the rice can be polished (that is, have the outsides removed) so that it has the long-lasting, never-spoiling qualities of refined white rice. But with a lot more nutrients!

There's something valuable there for those of us who like to stock up on shelf-stable foods in case of emergencies.

Menu for a Party When You Can't Prepare

So what do you do when you're having 18 people over for Sunday dinner, but you'll be gone from 7:00 until 12:30, arriving at home from church the same time as the guests? All my standard company dinners (lasagna, meatloaf & mashies, tetrazzini, brats & burgers) wouldn't work in this situation. I needed something that could be prepared on Saturday and then served straight out of the fridge or the crockpot(s). Here's what I came up with:

~ sub sandwiches: buns, meats, cheeses, lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, onion, green pepper, peperoncini, olives, mayo, mustard, ketchup, pickles
~ roast vegetables, roasted the night before and warmed in the crockpot on Sunday morning
~ baked beans (same plan as the roast veggies)
~ fruit: based on availability, we have a bowl of fresh pineapple, a bowl of grapes, a platter of sliced oranges with dried dates
~ potato salad
~ beverages: sweet tea, unsweetened herb tea, wine, beer, water, milk
~ dessert: Glenda's most evil dessert plus whatever Katie brings


It's been a long time since I've cooked for company. Today has been fun! As much as I like my job at the bank, today again has me dreaming of catering.

Gumbo

Katie's old blog disappeared. That's where I stored my gumbo recipe. I used to just wing it, but she and Rachel wanted to follow my recipe. (Recipe? There's a real recipe?) So the deal was for me to make gumbo while somebody wrote down the tweaks to the written, "kinda-sorta-guideline" recipe. Gary helped me find a cached copy of her blogpost, and now I'm rescuing it from electronic destruction when the caching peters out. And so, without further ado, my gumbo recipe --


Stew one chicken (or four leg quarters).
Let cool enough to handle.
Debone. Chop chicken.

Chop:
1 onion
2 ribs celery
1 green pepper
some hot peppers if desired.
Saute in olive oil until the onion is softened and translucent.

Add 1/3 pound sausage or ham.
Fry until meat is cooked.

Add 1/4 or 1/2 cup white flour.
Cook on low heat 10-40 minutes,
scraping the bottom of the pot frequently
so that the flour browns and you don't have a mess stuck onto the bottom of the pan.
(A few minutes will work if you're in a real hurry,
but if you can make yourself keep browning that flour for 30 minutes, that's when you make a fantabulous gumbo!)

Add:
the chicken and broth
1 pint can of diced tomatoes
small can of shrimp or crabmeat (optional)
garlic (to taste)
1 tsp sugar
2-3 tsp salt
black pepper
1/2 tsp thyme
1/2 tsp oregano

When boiling, add 1-2 pounds frozen chopped okra.
Cook about 10 minutes, or until okra is done.

Serve over rice. Add cayenne or Frank's Red Hot for those who desire more heat.

Zoe

One week old:

Posted here because there are blog-readers who aren't Facebook-friends with Katie to see what she posts there.

Donuts

Oh, sadness, oh, woe. I think yesterday I may have eaten my last donut.

I was working the polls. The town administrator brought in a box of hard rolls and pastries for us. Discipline; smarts; thinking nutritionally. I was a good girl.

For a while.

C'mon ... a box of crullers and Danish and Bavarian-cream-filled donuts and apple fritters. Finally I decided I could have one. Right? Just one. They were calling to me, begging to be eaten, looking delicious, smelling wonderful.

Dang it. I'm old. And donuts are sweet. And full of fat and white flour. And they weren't little donuts. I can't remember the last time I had a whole donut. I think it was at Emmaus, South Bend, so it would have been several years ago.

Ten blissful minutes of savoring that donut, and I paid for it all day with an upset stomach. I intend not to make that mistake again. (But I wouldn't be surprised if my tastebuds overrule my stomach again someday when I am weak.)

The Light of the World

In Sunday's [3-year] Gospel, we hear about Jesus' giving sight to the man who was born blind. The story starts with the question about "Who sinned?" that this man should be punished with blindness. Jesus explains that it wasn't a punishment for a particular sin, but that it was in order that God's works might be revealed in him. Then Jesus tells them that He is the light of the world.

Huh. I didn't realize that line was in that story. I knew "I am the light of the world" from the previous chapter. Huh.

So Pastor's making a point in the sermon about how the miracles of Jesus are merely signs. The point is not that somebody with bad legs could walk now. The point is not that a blind person could see, or a deaf person hear. The point is not that Lazarus was brought back to life. After all, these healing miracles were not permanent: these people eventually died. These are signs which point to the greater reality: the true healing found in the forgiveness of sins and the resurrection of the body.

And that is seen so well by looking at the two locations where Jesus claims to be the light of the world. First, Mary Magdalene is caught in adultery and is about to be stoned for it. Jesus speaks to her accusers, and they go away, and He says to her, "I do not condemn you." That's when He says He's the light of the world. A little later, still in Jerusalem, when He talks about being the light of the world, the important part is still the forgiveness of sins. But this time Jesus has a sign connected to His gift of merciful absolution: the man's physical eyes were opened to physical light, just as his eyes were opened in faith to the Light of the World.

Responding to Someone's Foot in the Mouth

One of the guys at church was admiring Zoe after church on Sunday morning. He teased Rachel that she was not keeping up with Katie. Katie has two kids, and Rachel doesn't have any yet.

I was stunned. I couldn't think what to say.

Rachel's face was pretty stunned too. But she gently and kindly responded, "I suffered a miscarriage in December." The man dropped the teasing, apologized, and expressed sorrow for their loss.

It was awkward.

But what do you do? He didn't mean anything hurtful by his teasing. Rachel didn't want to make him feel bad for having brought it up. But what do you do?

Seems to me that the honest way Rachel responded was perfect. She didn't lie or pretend; neither did she blow up. He could not undo what he'd said, but he could say he was sorry. Sometimes that's all that can be done. Honesty and concern and forgiveness go a long way to smoothing over those blunders that sinners commit against each other. I was truly quite impressed with how my daughter handled the interchange.

Rocks in the Rain

Just when you could use a run of sunny days to help a newborn overcome her slight [and perfectly normal] jaundice, the forecast has days and days of clouds and rain. And rain it did during church this morning! When you looked out the door after church, it looked like there'd been snow, the hail was piled so deep. Luckily, the massive amounts of hail came down in tiny pieces.

Interesting perspective to be in the back of the church, with the lights thinking about flicking out, seeing the zots of lightning out the window, hearing huge rumbles of thunder, glad to know the words Pastor was saying from the liturgy because the banging of hail on the roof sometimes made it a bit hard to hear. It made me think of Noah and Mrs Noah in the ark, safe and secure inside the refuge God had provided, no matter what was going on outside. In reality, that's what church is every Sunday, even when the weather is lovely; the devil and the world rage against her, but inside we are safe.

Anyway ... while we visited with our family's Chicago-Contingent in the narthex after church, and of course ogled Baby Zoe, Alia decided she had to go outside. Philip accompanied her to ensure that she didn't go out into the traffic of the parking lot or wade through 40° water up to her ankles. When he wouldn't let her wade, she had to walk on the driveway littered with pebble-sized hail. "There were rocks in the rain!" Yes, dear, that's about the size of it.

Arranged Marriages

What does a person do with a whole day to herself? (Well, besides clean and cook and catch up on all sorts of tasks?) Last week the kids were visiting friends, and Gary was at work. After cooking lunch-for-one (and I managed to pare back the recipe appropriately, amazingly enough!) I sat down to watch the beginning of a movie that none of them would want to see.

Self-control didn't kick in very well. I watched the whole movie that afternoon [like potato chips -- so good that ya just can't stop] and I didn't accomplish one lick o' dusting while watching.

The movie "Arranged" is about an Orthodox Jew and a Muslim. The two gals met each other as first-year teachers. Even though many people expected them to view each other as enemies, it turned out that they got along with each other better than with their co-workers, who had very different views of morality and faith and family. Each girl had reached the age where the parents were ready to arrange the daughter's marriage. Were they scandalized by the prospect of having the family involved in choosing a husband? What did the people around them think? How does it work?

I enjoyed the movie simply for the sake of a mushy love story, as well as a story of friendship. But what resonated most with me was how the main characters were fairly comfortable with their own beliefs in spite of being misfits with so much of the world. Yes, there is discomfort in knowing that the rest of the world thinks you're off your rocker, but not enough discomfort to abandon your integrity. I wonder sometimes how my co-workers see me: as a complete oddball or as just a little different?

A link to a video from a Lutheran pastor about the topic of dating and marriage.
A link to an article about homeschoolers being oddballs and proud of it.

African Peanut-Chicken Soup

Celebrating Gary's birthday, we ate supper at a little coffee shop around the corner from the theatre we attended. My adventurous choice was the African Peanut-Chicken Soup. Upon tasting this heavenly concoction, I melted with the joy of its deliciousness. Then I came home and decided I had to figure out how to make it myself.


Combine:
1 pint of chicken broth or turkey stock
2 Tbsp uncooked rice
1/2 cup chopped onion
1 tsp chopped hot pepper (more or less, to taste)
1/4 cup chopped fresh tomato

(or canned petite-diced tomato)

Bring to boil over high heat.
Lower heat and season soup with:
garlic powder
pepper
chili powder
salt if necessary
Then simmer until rice is done. (If using white rice instead of brown, saute onion for 5 minutes before adding broth and rice and tomato.)

Add:
1/3 cup chopped, cooked chicken or turkey
When meat is heated through in the soup,
stir in 3-4 Tablespoons peanut butter.


This easy-breezy recipe makes about 3 cups of delicious soup in about 45 minutes (or less, if you insist on white rice).


(Shhhh... nobody caught on to my near-rabid preference for brown rice here, d'ya think?)

Sharing in the Mystery of Suffering

A quote from p 312 of Hammer of God --
Aunt Agneta is speaking to the pastor, Torvik, about the cross and suffering and sharing each other's burdens (as she was talking about her grandson's apostasy and her plan to adopt his baby and take in the girlfriend he abandoned).

"Usually we suffer only for our own sins. But sometimes we are given the favor of suffering for the sins of others. That is part of the mystery of the Atonement: when one is joined to Christ, one is given the task of lifting a portion from a certain sinner and suffering in his stead, so that he does not have to carry alone all the bitterness of his deeds."
She spoke slowly and gently, as if she were afraid to distort a fine and fragile secrecy through clothing it in words.

Yes! There is joy in sharing someone else's burden.

And yes! There is something almost unspeakable about trying to explain some truths.

Today's Laugh

A cartoon of an April Fool's Joke gone very wrong.

Zoe

Just grabbing a couple of minutes to throw some pictures on the blog of Katie & Nathan's new arrival.

The Implanted Word

Pastor was talking the other day about how he likes the phrase, "the implanted Word." It reminds us of the seed being sown or planted (as in Matthew 13 and Mark 4). It reminds us that the Word grows and bears fruit. It reminds us that the plant grows better when manure is dumped on it [fertilizer, doncha know].

But what I never thought of before is that the seed is planted in dirt. What does God say in Genesis 3 (and every Ash Wednesday)? "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return."