Becoming A Fair Lady

DR Trip 2014: Samaná and Almost the End

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 10 Aug 2014 00:05:00 +0000

Oh, Samaná. One of Mumsie’s favourite spots on earth, and with good reason, too. We tumbled into the big van at a decent time and began our hike cross-country to the beachy world of humpback whales (local and in season), fresh coconuts, early churches, and guanabana. After a car ride laden with excellent conversation, and some ‘60s kid music, we reached one of the earlier evangelical churches to be planted in the Dominican Republic. It was originally a community of slaves from the United States who had been released to help colonise the DR. When their pastor died they were left without spiritual guidance. Realising this (it would be nice if we had that same sense today), they sent letters to both England and America asking for help with their church plant. A Wesleyan church in England answered their call and sent a young couple to help establish this church. The wife died of malaria shortly after her arrival, but the work she helped her husband do planted a church that is still going today, 190 years later. That is the kind of woman I want to be, eh?

Hearing their story, and knowing that God can use young lives because it is God who is working in the first place, was a great boost to all of us rather tired and rather motivated young people. And then the acoustics in that church were amazing, so we sang a few Psalms until our skin was tingling with the beauty of it. Then we piled back in the van and headed to our final destination: the resort.

The resort. The resort was a totally unexpected gift for which we are truly thankful. I know, it sounds awful, a mission’s team finishing their last two days at a snazzy resort, but honest it was a gift from God, who can use riches as well as poverty to draw us closer to Himself. That is what He did on this trip. Both at the poverty in Villa and in the total chillness of this all-inclusive result, God was using our surroundings to pull us nearer into who He is.

See, we desperately needed an unwinding and debriefing period before returning Stateside. The changes going on inside of us and outside of us were very real and very huge. That was kind of the point of this trip in the first place, but I certainly did not expect it all to happen on so large a scale.

But it did. And not having to worry about food and schedules and car rides and bedrooms and cleaning up helped it happen easier. Not to mention the warm beach and treadmill. They helped, too. What can I say? We were very thankful for this outside-stress-free environment in order to solidify the already stabilised friendships for the months and years to come, and to look inside each of us and really ponder how we were by God’s grace going to embrace His grace and the changes that need to occur in light of that grace. Grace is scary, because Grace means freedom, and freedom means relationship. Not control. Not micromanaging. Not doing it my way, but loving to do it His way. It will take more than two days to sort all this out ~ it will, in fact, take a lifetime ~ but these past two days were certainly invaluable to the process, and I am very grateful to those who provided it.

So we spent time eating (I got to eat Not My Food!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and walking on the beach, and seeing the stars and sunrise, and writing, and asking a lot of questions. We had one more study on the heart, but the rest of our group time was spent parking on certain questions that had come up during the trip. Key. Vital. Necessary. Yay. I loved watching everybody, from 8 to 60, Dominican and United Statesian, interact in meaningful ways during these discussions. I think we have been able to internalise everything a bit better, so that then we might externalise them naturally throughout the rest of the year. Understand, my friend, that one of the things we learned was that most people do it backwards, working from the outside in rather than the inside out. But that leads bright on the outside and dark on the inside. We want the light of Christ shining in the darkness. Praise God that He knows our hearts and works with our souls and makes us new!

The last two days were excitingly hard and wonderful, culminating with the time to say goodbye. That we did, at the airport, surrounded by luggage, and Patrick and Emanuel left us in a Breaking of the Fellowship sort of sadness, except that we know the end; one way or another we will be seeing each other again. And, hey, there’s always Facebook and G+.

While we waited at the airport for a variety of things, each of us read each other’s notes from Emanuel. The kind soul had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning writing each one of the team members a personal note of appreciation. That floored all of us, and passing the notes around are what kept our spirits up as the prospect of total farewell loomed ever closer.

The plane to Miami was delayed, and it was a literal squeeze to make our connecting flight, but God knew what was needed and good, and we made it to Dulles safe and sound around midnight Friday morning.

We did, but not our luggage. Nope, a lot of Saturday was spent going back to the airport to pick up all those nineteen suitcases which did not have time to be scuttled onto our connecting flight the night before. But in that too God was working His good will because having to deal with 950 pounds of luggage late at night would have been slightly overwhelming. No, it was much better to handle those pounds the next day, after a good morning’s sleep and some food. Plus, it was an excuse to see everyone on the team one last time.

But now farewells are officially said, not forever, but for as long as God would have, and we all feel better equipped to live life as Christians made confident through faith and adoption, through God’s glorious might to be patient in all He would have us do and be and wait for. I love having these friends forever, just as I loved making them real friends over the past two weeks. The love of God is something that cannot be broken, and it was enriched in us throughout this trip. For that I am truly grateful.

As Jessica Grove said at the end of it all, Greater Things Are Yet to Come. Greater things are still to be done! So, let us move further up and further in to the love and truth of God by His grace!

Thanks for all your prayers as we travelled far away from home. I hope this smattering of delayed updates has provided you with a glimpse of not just the doings, but also the learnings and encouragements and growths we experienced in the DR. I am grateful for each one of you! Signing off.

Actually, I think there will be one final "Highlights and Appreciation" post, but this is mainly the end. Thanks for joining me!

(please excuse typos. this will be the last time I ask you this, really.)

DR Trip 2014: La Tinajita

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 10 Aug 2014 00:02:00 +0000

La Tinajita. If you happen to recall anything from my batch of posts from last DR Trip, you might remember La Tinajita as a little bit of heaven on earth. It really was its own earth-placed paradise. Well, nothing has changed since last year. It is still there, lovely as ever, and this time we were even more eager to be there. Our van pulled up with smoking tires and we staggered and stretched out of the car to fall into the arms of our lovely hosts, Ambiorix and Rosario. Only after wildly giving hugs all around and making a special point to pounce on the vecinas with a warm embrace did I get to looking around and falling in love with La Tinajita all over again. The fairy arbors were still there, the hobbit walks still meandered from one door to the next, the house still spoke of Rivendell, and the view still struck you with a majesty too deep for words. And the mango and jobo trees still lined the gazebo-speckled property.

By the time we had settled into our rooms and supped, our tiredness was too great and manifold for a real study, so we went around the terrace-lounging group again to hear what had so far impacted and taught each one of us in special ways. It was a great way to wrap up the first part of the trip, the getting-to-know-you and welcome-to-non-American-cultures part, and enter into the second part of this learning experience called travelling, the I-got-to-know-you-now-what part. La Tinajita proved perfect spot for embarking on this new adventure.

See, it is very public, complete with a huge terrace and jacuzzi and bedrooms jumbled into kitchen and living room and dining room and outdoor porch. There is an intimate, old-word feeling about the place. But it is also very private, spread out on a hillside with the house at the top and branches and branches of paths winding down the hill to a symphony of little tables here and reading nooks there and covered gazebos hidden all over the lawn. Perfect for plunging into the communion that is in Christ and the meditation that is in Christ. Just perfect.

So that is what we did. We talked and laughed and played games, and sang ’til I thought my throat would drop off. We listened to the studies as a group while ingesting them as individuals. Then we walked and thought and read our Bibles, and journaled ’til I thought my fingers would give out. Both the we and the me were fed during our stay here. I think that is what we are most thankful for now that all is said and done: the deep fellowship we developed. And it all flourished right here in La Tinajita.

On Saturday we continued our studies in Colossians and the Heart, learning more about what it truly means to have our lives “hid in Christ” and how to deal with our souls now that they are alive in Him rather than dead in our trespasses and sins. To me, it was encouraging more than I can say. Convicting, yes, to see the clear distinctions between the dead and the living lifestyles, but encouraging because I am alive and don’t have to live like I did anymore. Because Christ. And in Christ.

That afternoon, the music director for the church in Santiago (Iglesia Bíblica Reformada de Santiago or Reformed Bible Church of Santiago) came over to practice the songs included in Sunday’s worship with the members of our team who would be playing in their service. Timothy sang the violin, Joshua strummed the guitar, and Joanna trilled the flute whilst the Emelii and James played the keyboard. It was neat to see how many great English songs had been translated into Spanish, and we were all happy that people from our team could worship God through instruments on this trip.

After hours of practice, during which time many of us retreated to think and/or talk, it was beyond a shadow of a doubt time for dinner. I believe the main meal for that day involved an impeccably scrumptious assortment of rice, beans, and bistec, made the more merry by two young women, Jeannine and Julia, who danced about the terrace handing out drinks and refills and more refills. We turned in at a decent time for the night, knowing that tomorrow was Sunday and we would have quite the drive to church in the morning.

Sunday service was amazing. We drove down on time and got there almost an hour early, which was important because we ended up needing to rearrange the sanctuary so that the English-speaking crowd could sit in an undisrupting location for translation purposes. We sang some of my favourite songs, and our guys did a magnificent job by God’s grace of leading us in worship of our Lord through song. The accent of the violin and flute grounded by the chording and percussion of guitar and keyboard sounded spectacular together. Then Dad preached a great sermon on 1 John, focusing on the togetherness and interweaving of Truth and Love in that letter. Joshua and I translated, and we often ended up saying the same thing at the same time in the same intonation as we turned Spanish into English for our friends.

Post-service we welcomed the surprise request of teaching the church some new songs we had been singing throughout the trip. Although it was a spontaneous performance, God used the words and music in the life of one of the maids from La Tinajita, who had for some reason decided to join us for church that day. Later that evening I found her crying in the kitchen and she asked for the lyrics to one of the songs we had sung that morning. Please pray that God would save her, so she would be one of our fellow worshippers next year!

The service done, we drove to Ambiorix and Rosario’s main home in the city, where we were regaled with a feast amidst friends, arrayed in a stunningly beautiful home, and all graced with the love and generosity of believers. Those stewed bananas smelled…wow. Good food, my friends. Good food.

Full and sleepy, we lounged about the house talking and napping and touring the gorgeous mansion. Many of us used the home’s internet to call parents back home. All of us drank in the restful afternoon, which we all needed badly. Sooner than later it was time to go back to the mountains and fresh air, with the stars glittering in a cold sky. Elvish, I tell you. We had another excellent and challenging study, then sang and sang again until it was very very time to hit the sack.

We did.

In brief, Monday consisted of Jessie going to the doctor with Katy and Mumsie and Rosario (Jessie’s fine) and then them buying souvenirs, whilst the rest of the gang stayed home and went through a six-hour long study session. So, SOOO good. I can’t tell you how good. Then we faintingly crawled to the table for food after having skipped meals for the Bible, and boy was there food! The vecinas (this family call their maids “neighbours” instead of “maids”, which is a great testimony of Philemon-like community) cooked us up an amazing sancocho (everything stew) in the outdoor cookery place, and it came with avocado and fluffy white rice until we could not eat anymore. Our brains were dead and our tummies full, so it was a perfect time to journal and talk and play.

That evening, Dad and some of the boys headed back down to the city so he could teach the pastors he usually Skypes on Tuesday nights. While they were away, we started packing our bags yet again and listened to Ambiorix tell us his testimony and teach us some principles about handling money. This man was born into a very poor yet dignified family; he shared a pair of shoes with his brother and worked in the fields before and after school. He worked hard. Very hard. Eventually he made money. A good deal of it. But he did not ever spend more than he needed, saving most of what he had and using what remained to keep on going. He helped us with some good common sense, and then inspired us with how the gospel changes how we view money and people and time. From not cheating taxes to loving the brethren, this man has grown in everything, and I was personally excited to see how God has changed Ambiorix from grace to grace since he became a Christian. We love him, and we love his wife Rosario. Thank God for them with me, will you?

Tuesday morning found us scurrying around to get out the door and headed to our next and final destination, Samaná. But that will come next post.

(please excuse typos)

DR Trip 2014: Jarabacoa

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 10 Aug 2014 00:00:00 +0000

It is Thursday the 7th of August and I am 10,334 miles above sea level with only 28% battery life left on my pretty banged up laptop.

July flew to somewhere and August for some reason appeared, ready and able to fly by even more quickly than July. The pilot has just announced our decent to Miami Airport and the sunset evening lights up one side of the plane in rose and gold while down the aisle and through the window I see the sea awash in moving greys and rather Byronic blues. It could not be more perfect. Perfect to describe how our whole team is feeling: on one hand happy and blest by our time in the Dominican Republic with each other, and on the other hand sad to need to say goodbye but peaceful in the memories we can now all share. God is awesome, no matter which colour one feels.

The trip has, in fact, been very colourful. So colourful that my noble goal to blog every day fell by the wayside. But I think enjoying more time to be with my teammates and journal to myself was well worth the lack of blogging. In an attempt to catch up, I will offer all you my faithful readers and pray-ers an overview of what followed my previous blog post, and what all happened to bring us up to now, on an airplane quickly swirling down towards the United States and all it holds for us.

Goodness, that takes me all the way back to Thursday in Jarabacoa, which feels so very long ago. That morning I believe we had mangú with queso frito again, followed by morning studies, a lunch of leftovers (a mess of moro tossed with picadillo, a quick Dominican fry-up of ground beef with, yes, blissfully bright vegetables), followed by another walk that involved climbing up a very slippery and sheer hill only to discover something on the sliding hill-top caused a delightful little rash all over one’s body. That was fun, and steep, and hard. Our team still could not believe the number of beautiful flowers and fruits dotting the paths down which we trod, and we all grew in the gratitude of simply being there.

Throughout the day, I had been simmering the beans which Joanna and Janelle had so faithfully sprouted over the past three days. The maids, of course, were shocked at three American girls’ treatment of their native dish, but they enjoyed the differences and were quite curious about how to make things more digestible. One of the maids had recently undergone a colonoscopy for severe intestinal issues, so hopefully she was able to pick up a few tips and practices from us. The best part of being in the kitchen with both maids was to see their willingness to help accompanied by their eagerness to learn, and their complete surprise at how simply we did things. But they liked the pork and bean soup we had for dinner, so hopefully the surprise produced positive results.

Right before dinner, however, the lights went out. Now, the electricity turns off every day in the Dominican Republic, but most houses have generators or inverters to compensate for this occurrence. Well. Our inverter decided to have issues. No lights. Whatsoever.

Yet what seemed to be a problem at the beginning, God turned into a blessing by the end. Does He not always? If only we would trust that more. At least Dominicans smartly use gas stoves instead of electric ones, so at least our dinner was cooked through when we ate it. At least the men in our group were helpful and kind and loving and gentlemanly, so we girls always had one of them to hold flashlights by our side as we chopped vegetables and prepared delicious avocados. At least some of us had “randomly” decided to pack early and shower late so that many of us were ready to go in the morning, regardless of our electrical condition. At least this forced us to have no manmade lighting as God’s own lightning struck the charcoal sky throughout the evening. At least God gave us memories to sing and sing songs without lyrics after dinner. At least God gave us brains, and some boys with brains, to figure out what really was going on with our inverter so that we were able to turn in for the night with the knowledge that, yes, we had electricity again! Thanks, Andrew. ;)

Trusting in God always works.

Friday morning dawned too soon, and our hot chocolate oatmeal was gone too quickly, and our packing was done too efficiently, and our games were lost and won too easily. It was time to leave Jarabacoa, and it was time for one of our group, Jose, to leave for good. Leave not just us, but his homeland and friends and life to move to North Carolina. We bade many, many farewells until his dad finally ushered him out the door and our ride finally arrived.

Leaving Jarabacoa was hard for many, because the place was so beautiful and restful and what was to come remained in the scary realm of the unknown.

But remember about trusting God?

He had good things waiting. Despite our tiredness and unfulfilled hunger, the ride to Santiago was peaceful and fun and full of sleep for some. We stopped on the way in La Vega, the Christian seminary of which my grandfather was one of the founders, and where my father was born. It is always such fun to see him slide right back into his old life with his old friends full of their old stories together. The seminary is now a Christian camp, but the mango tree my grandfather planted is still there, still giving us mangoes whenever we go back to visit. My family lived there for a summer when I was a little girl, so even I experienced some nostalgia walking around the lots where I used to make mud puddles and the buildings that always smelled so good of Dominican food. They still do. It was also great to hear of a place and of a people that actually valued Christian discipleship and the sufficiency of Scripture, while teach pastors soon-to-be how to plant churches as well as how to plant plantains.

But we were hungry and on a schedule that day, and needed to make it to the hills surrounding Santiago in time for dinner ~ and lunch had yet to be eaten. We stopped in the hub of the city for some quick sandwiches at about four in the afternoon, then drove through the city to pick up eight mattresses that were piled on top of our SUV, and at last trekked up the mountain to La Tinajita, the place where our next hosts were awaiting us with supper and…well, I will talk about that in the next post.

(please excuse typos)

DR Trip 2014: Days Six and Seven

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sat, 09 Aug 2014 23:57:00 +0000

The last two days have blurred somewhat in my mind, so this post should cover both, albeit in whimsy and windy fashion. Tuesday involved a gorgeous lighting of patched and terraced hills. Here it truly is a lighting rather than a sunrise, because the morning fog is so heavy and the mountains so nearby. The early hours also involved coffee, of course, and boiled yucca with fried cheese. This preceded a morning of journaling and studies and a walk around the countryside. Someone is constructing a residence a way further down the hill, but neither the noise nor the smoke is heavy, and the workers are admirably fast. On Tuesday they were torching black something onto the roof and today, Thursday, the roof is almost completely tiled. That is one thing about Dominican culture. Time is not of the essence; events are. But in their own way, Dominicans can be very efficient and hardworking, especially in the realm of construction and engineering. It reminds me of the person in the Santo Domingo who used an old Pizza Hut box as a sun guard for his windshield. You make do with what you’ve got, and you do it well.

Anyway.

We almost completed the first chapter of Colossians and delved deeper into our Theological Heart Surgery sessions. One of the challenges of this trip has been the way the size of our group has affected, or rather, could affect, the closeness of the communion we enjoy. Now that we are all staying in the same house, those challenges are being overcome and we are growing together into Christ. This has begun to influence our studies and I hope will continue to deepen the level of conversation as we proceed deeper into what the Bible says about us and our hearts.

One of the chief topics of conversation here has been grace. The unsurpassed and overwhelming grace God has shown us in Christ. Our sessions on the heart describes our need of that grace so exquisitely and painfully, but then Colossians rushes in where our self-justification fears to tread, and shows us Christ. Christ in all His power and meekness and mercy and love. Kind of like the way the sun slowly lights up this beautiful place each morning, the light of Christ has been dispelling our own darkness, only to leave His beauty in its stead. There are so many shadows waiting for that glorious brilliance.

Thankfully, growing in the knowledge of God in all spiritual wisdom and understanding must needs flow into a growing love for our brothers in Christ. I see that happening with this group. We are able to talk, enjoy each other, and pass very pleasant and jolly times with one another. Apparently Bible knowledge does not preclude, but speeds on, brotherly love. And so it goes. Together we have sung and played some rousing games, varying from the requisite “jacked up” (Jessie’s phrase) versions of Speed Uno to intricate rounds of Psychologist. Daddy loves games, and loves watching us play games, not because he is a party animal (he really is not one at all), but because he believes that in games, as well as in mealtimes, who we really are unintentionally comes out. And genuine sincerity plays a vital role in these trips. Thus, the games have been merry and often.

In between group times, plenty of smaller conversations have taken place. The gift of these occurrences has been that no cliques have formed. We all engage in more private discussions, but we pass each other around pretty well and feel comfortable talking openly with anyone who happens to be sitting next to us. Yes, this group is great.

But back to Tuesday. After a lunch of crunchy salami with bread and farmer’s cheese and fresh wonderfully fresh and vibrant and snappy and snarky and sweet and satisfying and delicious vegetables (can you tell we missed fresh veggies in the city?), we gathered around for another Theological Heart Surgery session and then Joanna, Janelle, and I prepared supper, with a bunch of help.

I have so loved getting to work with Dominican ingredients in a Dominican kitchen with American friends. Collaborating with Joanna and Janelle has been a sweet growth to our relationship, and we are all learning from each other.

So Tuesday’s dinner consisted of (my first attempt at) moro de guandules and a happy bowl of steamed green, purple, and cream cauliflower, all accompanying a dish of minute steak marinated in Dominican seasonings and grilled by a few able young men. Thanks to Andrew and James and Emanuel, dinner tasted swell and non-overcooked.

Wednesday brought hot chocolated oatmeal, or oatmealed hot chocolate, depending on how you look at it, followed by a morning of more studies and an afternoon of stewed chivo, a mouth-watering meat accompanied by all the usual Dominican sides: rice and beans and plátano and avocado and garlic casabe. The person responsible for spoiling us with such an over-the-top delicious meal was Tomás, our faithful jack-of-all trades pastor, missionary, visionary, servant, cook, chauffeur, networker, and master of cooking to classical music. He seriously has all the best classical songs every composed, and plays them at the top of his speaker’s lungs to our great joy and delight. I think it makes his food taste happier. We love Tomas, and there’s an end to it.

Our days here have been punctuated by walks around the neighbourhood, walks made all the more exhilarating due to the steep hills and wild orchids growing by the wayside between wild banana plants and orange trees. These outings keep our body going so our brain can continue functioning through the whirlwind of sessions upon which we are embarking in this trip. Apart from steadily working through Colossians and being dazzled by Christ with each verse, we are steadily digging into the ways we and others work as we learn to not treat problems with the bandaid of “being better people” but with the Master’s Surgery of going deep into our hearts’s most earnest desires and ingrained processes in order to apply the gospel constantly to our souls. By God’s grace our actions will change, and instead of pharisees and slaves, God will have sons and a people who love to worship Him.

To be frank, talking about the gospel and Christ and our hearts’ sins and cures can get messy, even with a close group of Christians. But the messiness has been good because the messiness causes Christ’s stellar perfection to glow even brighter and His grace to shine its warm rays all the more closely upon us. Sure, we are sinners, but like Colossians says, we have been transferred from the kingdom of darkness into the inheritance of the saints in light. That is awesome, and in that beautiful truth we are truly walking in love with each other. I confesses to loving our group, this band of brothers, and I am confident everyone here would say the same.

It all has been so worth it. Thanks for praying, and please continue to do so.

(please excuse typos)

DR Trip 2014: Day Five

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 27 Jul 2014 22:04:00 +0000

Day Five. Sunday number one for our group. Father’s Day. After breakfast, our entire team gathered at the apartment to pile into the twenty-one-seater bus that awaited downstairs. Our driver, José, steered the streets well and we eventually ended up at the correct church after stopping to ask for directions. I guess it is kind of normal to get lost when someone gives you the wrong address for your destination. But get there we did with no bones broken, and filed into a crowd of very welcoming brothers and sisters in Christ.

This church, Iglesia Fundamento, is located in a poorer part of town, less safe and speckled with more tin roofs and more trash than what we had so far seen. But the church itself was cheery and bright and clean, all four stories of it, and the people were so very loving and immersed in the beauty of Christian fellowship. It was all different, but I think we as team felt at home in a sense, too. We worshipped together with great joy and learned from Scripture with glad song and simply enjoyed the communion of “foreign” “family”. Despite the drip drip of faucets, despite the doubling up on toilet flushes, despite the dearth of air conditioning and the surrounding scenes of poverty, we were blessed and with people we loved because they loved God, too. The church kindly sang songs that were likewise in English, and put the English lyrics side-by-side the Spanish ones. Everyone chose their language and sang, sang with life.

Then Dad came up to preach on Ephesians 2:1-10, a heart-stirring passage that you absolutely must read to once again relish the grace God has showered upon us undeserving sinners. The team sat upstairs, near the fans and basking in the yellow light bouncing off the sky-blue walls. Sure, it was hot, and, sure, the whirring of the fans made translating difficult, but Josh and I and the team worked together to hear God’s word and were blessed.

After speaking with some of the members there and being passed cokes and chocolate (they are very kind to foreigners), and after a good degree of baby-holding, we traipsed back into the bus to eat at Viscaya, a favourite Dominican restaurant with strong Spanish (Spain Spanish) roots. We were twenty-one people, not to mention all the fathers who were eating out to celebrate Father’s Day, so the food took a while to come, but that provided ample time for good conversation. Half of the fun and growth on these trips comes from getting to know the other members of the team itself, and this provided us with the perfect context for that. The food came in rounds, first Spanish tortillas (think omelet or quiche-minus-crust laden with potatoes), then baskets of garlic flat bread, then a grilled assortment of meats, then a round of fish, then rice and beans and tostones (fried green plantains), maduros (ripe fried/baked plantains), fried potatoes, and finally avocados. It was a feast, wrapped up well with a dish of flan (a sort of custard) and strong Dominican coffee laced in its own creamy foam. Yum. One experience I doubt team-members will forget was having bites of Dad’s favourite mondongo, a dish of stewed beef tripe. It was hit with some of us (great for GAPS!) and not so much a favourite with others. But everyone ate something they liked, and walked away very, very satisfied.

Now we are gathered at the apartment again, waiting for news about Jorge Daniel and relaxing before evening service begins. Tonight we will be attending IBNP, something about which we are all very excited because we know people there and it will be nice to see the place we painted buzzing with believers. And the music. And the preaching. And everything a church is about.

I am at the church now, brimming with internet and postability. I will check back next time I get wifi, which will probably be in a week because tomorrow we are leaving to a place in the mountains, brimming with non-internet and all the lovelinesses that brings. Enjoy the week! I know I will.

(please excuse typos)

Thanks for remembering us in your prayers!

DR Trip 2014: Day Four

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 27 Jul 2014 22:02:00 +0000

Next day began slow and steady and ready to finish our paint job. But first, many of our team members got to sit in on Dad’s closing class with the group of pastors he has taught for three years. For me, it was exciting. I have seen Dad start the survey of the Bible, proceed to systematic theology, and end in counselling as the men in his class got married, had kids, and grew in the knowledge of God and His word. Today was the last class of those three years, and our team got to be there. Josh translated for most of the English speakers while I translated in a corner for the rest. I won’t tell you what the class was about because we will be studying it more in depth during the rest of our time here.

Following the morning-long marathon (what they call Dad’s Saturday morning classes), it was most definitely and assuredly time for vittles. We walked the dusty streets to the same restaurant as yesterday, La Quinta, but this time the cooks were ready for our herd of nineteen hungry stomachs. The music was again odd, the food was again good, the air conditioning was again…mercurial, and the conversation was again pleasant. Refreshed and revived, we walked back to the church to finish the paint job. Reinforcements of paints and brushes had arrived, so we were ready.

Everyone except Jessie, Joanna, Dad, and myself. We went with an elder of IBNP who works for an organic-friendly supermarket in the city in order to buy food for this following week. IN Jarabacoa, where we are heading next, there are mountains, beautiful mountains. That means less than smooth roads and a wee bit of isolation. Actually, a lot of isolation. So we needed to bring from the city whatever we wanted to eat in the country.

Shopping in the DR was an interesting experience, one which with I am familiar, but never have I done it for a week’s supply of food for twenty-two people. I thoroughly enjoyed, partly because we had Daniel, the elder who works for the store. Jessie, Joanna, and I put our heads together, came up with a meal plan, and basically sent Daniel on a store chase to fetch our always growing list of items. We say cauliflower of purple, green, and cream, rows of okra and yucca eggplant, a wall of peppers all bright red, and an entire floor section filled with exotic fruits and vegetables you would not know of.

Our team had been craving veggies, so you can imagine how our hearts leaped when we reached the produce section. We had already oohed and ahed over the REAL milk we were bringing home and the block of cheese bigger than my head we would seen be frying up for breakfast, but when we saw the antioxidant-laden colours of fresh produce, our day was made. We bought succulent mangoes and bright green avocados ready to ripen and fuchsia-coloured cactus fruit, as well as little round fruits of a sugar cane hue called nispero. On top of that, two sizeable coolers somehow fit into our Ford explorer, and we returned to the church feeling satisfied with a job crazily but well done. Praise God for Daniel, who understands all our “weird” food needs and desires!

By the time shopping for twenty-two people was over, the paint had been slathered on and dried and the team was renewing their appreciation for Ninja, Zip Bong, Cheese, and other pass-the-time group games. The team split up to take showers (“freshen up” for the evening meal ~ how charmingly old-fashioned to the American mind) and then regroup for another round of sandwiches and shakes. I had snagged (and payed for) some spinach and mushrooms so my meal of pork chop from was scrumptiously accompanied by green and darling little edible buttons. And it was hot. Every time I come here, my gratitude for a warm meal redoubles.

The day closed with another study, this time one that began our “Heart Surgery” course. We opened to the book of Genesis to read of the temptation of Eve and what it all entails, both then and now. Prayer and singing again followed our study, and then we turned in early for the night. Tomorrow was Sunday and church, after all.

Except Group One. Group One tumbled into their house only to be regaled by a symphony of fireworks, including those happy smily face ones, in honour of Dominican Father’s Day. Way to close the first week here with a bang, eh?

More tomorrow, and we are thankful for your prayers.

(excuse typos)

*P.S. We just received news that Jorge Daniel, a dear friend and fellow worker who always helps us out when we stay with IBNP, got into a car accident this (Sunday morning). He is walking and okay, but stuck in the hospital until he is given a clean bill of health. Please pray for him and his sister, who are here alone because their parents are in the States to figure out what is wrong with their dad, Pastor Hector, who has been having seizure-like episodes. Yeah. It’s nuts. Please keep them all in your prayers!

DR Trip 2014: Day Three

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 27 Jul 2014 22:01:00 +0000

Day Three began this morning. The problem is this morning feels like ages ago. So let’s give this post a whirl and see what happens.

We woke up at an earlier time today and managed to have breakfast at 9am. Group Two’s morning carried itself much like yesterday morning. I am not sure how Group One’s morning began, but they showed up at our apartment look bright and fresh and well fed, so all indications indicate good things happening.

Today we worked on the building of IBNP, the same church who ministers in the village we visited yesterday. We were unsure of what our specific tasks would end up being, but we did know the church is adding some space to the front of the building and we were supposed to help prepare for the construction. So, we arrived in ditchable clothes and with lots of water, curious as to what the day would hold.

It held paint. Lots of paint and not enough paint. Upstairs in the church there is an open concrete area for fellowship, and it all needed a fresh coat of paint. Also, the office space beside the fellowship area needed to be unwired and unceilinged. You know those styrofoam-like tiles at the top of everyone’s basement? The ones you always wanted to poke with a stick as a kid and see what was in between one floor and the next? Yeah. Those. We got to poke them up and out and to the ground to our heart’s content. ’Twas fun.

And painting. Who doesn’t enjoy painting? Roll up and roll down and sideways and tape everything and be careful not to smudge the door frames or window sills. Peach on yellow was not a bad colour combination, either, and with the sun beating down everyone felt fun and thirsty.

Everyone except Emily Leich, Daddy, and myself. We had to go to the American Airlines office in Santo Domingo because (I forgot to explain this before), Emily Leich has identity issues! Yes. As we were boarding the flight from Miami to the Dominican Republic, Emily was stopped by the boarders and told that she could not be here because an Emily Leich had flown to the DR on the previous flight. Well now. Emily Leich was indeed right here with us, not on some afternoon flight to Santo Domingo. It was a bit of a tense moment, but eventually Dad and the person in charge worked something out to let Emily fly with us with a coupon. Praise God! But to sort out what happened, we needed to visit AA’s Dominican headquarters and make sure the same thing would not happen on our return trip. Also, we were just a slight bit curious about who might be posing as Emily Leich, if anyone was.

Thankfully, everything in the Emily Leich category was sorted, and she is flying home with us and she is a real person with no identity issues. God is taking care of us!

The office visit turned out to be surprisingly short, and after a bout of traffic we returned to the church in time to throw ourselves into painting until lunchtime. We were a little short on paint and brushes and rollers, but everyone took turns between brushing and taping and playing Ninja (it’s an actual game), so everyone kept busy.

Lunchtime brought us to La Quinta, a little eatery for workers needing a warm meal on a hot day. While playing American pop music from all eras in the background, the restaurant served us a meal of rice and meat and avocados, plus a by now extremely popular chinola (passion fruit) juice. Three types of rice, three types of meats, and bowls of habichuelas (stewed beans) all around! It was a good meal and prepared us for walk back to the church for more painting.

And that’s we did. More painting ’til the paint ran out. I stayed close to the ground and worked my thighs to paint baseboards while others faced their fears and climbed up ladders to hang over the roof edge to paint high walls (you go, Jessie Bear!).

And then there was no more paint. So we trekked home to shower and eat a supper of grilled sandwiches filled with DR’s famous pork, beef, cheese, onions, and condiments accompanied by, you guessed it, more chinola juice. Although some free spirits broke the mould and got zapote or mango juice instead.

After this scrumptious repast, ’twas time for our first study.

We went over the first two verses of Colossians, remembering God’s great holiness and how He has made us holy. It is amazing to think that God made people like us saints and fellow brothers. It was hard to think of ourselves as holy because Christ is holy, even through our sin. But He lives in us and that is where our holiness comes from, what bears the Fruit of the Spirit, and how we can become more like Christ. We also went over the familial relationship we know have with God and our fellow brothers. That bond of similarities because of God’s indwelling grace holds us together so that we may and should and will live in fellowship with our family in Christ first, before any other earthly relationships. God living in us and loving us allows us to live with and love those whom He loves.

In short, we kicked off our series of Colossians studies with a glimpse of glory and mercy, and a taste of the fellowship we hope to cultivate over the next two weeks. Our session ended with an hour of singing, heavenly singing and rhythmic, soothing guitar accompanied by the gorgeous other-worldly strains of a violin.

Of course, sleep was sweet.

(please excuse typos)

DR Trip 2014: Day Two

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Fri, 25 Jul 2014 20:43:00 +0000

Day Two, our first full day in the Dominican Republic, began as first days often do: whiplashed, jet-lagged, and doggone tired. But happy.

The Groves brought a special treat of bread and honey, so Group Two breakfasted like kings and queens (I guess, if I were being historically accurate, we breakfasted like peasants, but whatever) and spent most of the morning journalling about all the new sights and sounds and reactions that being in a new country entails. It was a lovely slow start we all needed to pull ourselves together.

Group One breakfasted like kings and queens (again, really Dominican peasants of the past), encountering their first sumptuous feast of mangú, ham and cheese, scrambled eggs, and anything else lovely and nice. And they have two maids and internet and air conditioning, so, parents, no worries. Around noon, Group One flied into Group Two’s apartment looking bonnie and bright, and we went over what Mumsie would teach the kids at VBS.

Because Mumsie was told there would be a VBS only a day ago, in the wee hours of the morning before sleep. She woke up early and prepared a lesson about Elijah and the Widow: God always provides even though He works in strange ways using strange means, and all for HIs glory. And His best provision is Christ, the bread and water who will never run out or run dry. Then Dad and Mumsie taught the whole team a lil kid song that went along with the Bible story. It was probably the first song I ever really learned, and I had not heard it in ages, so there was definitely a bit of nostalgia going on.

After learning a bit about Spanish pronunciation and a few brave attempts at forming Spanish vowels, the team was ready to sing. We ate a quick lunch of ham and cheese and bread and butter (special Farmer’s cheese that is just so very delicious but you have to get used to it type-thing), and then crammed into two vehicles to head out towards Villa Alta Gracia, not knowing what to expect.

It is about an hour’s drive from our apartment to the village, giving the newcomers their first opportunity to see Santo Domingo in broad daylight. Everyone made great observations and took in all the newness like champs. Our driver managed to keep up three phone conversations on two cell phones at the same while manoeuvring around motorcycles brimming with bread and trucks overstuffed with various and sundry comestibles. Plus taxis. Taxis here just. stop. Right in the middle of the road, where pedestrians are merrily waiting for them. Welcome to the DR.

Eventually we escaped the sound and fury of the city and were ushered into the island’s majestic mountains, some bright green and patched with pastures, others covered with richly-coloured pines all the way to the very tips of the mountain tops. Everything was punctuated by palms, tin houses, and startlingly red flowers. It is a wild calm beauty, a release from the crazy rush of the capital. Our first view of the mountains took our breath away and then let us breathe easy. Did I say majestic? Majestic.

Unfortunately, the majesty was rather spoilt by a huge beer advertisement. Welcome to the DR.

We reached the village. After a while, the other car reached the village as well. Our experience in Villa was one of mixed of surprise, joy, regret, longing, and change. The surprise, for some, was the poverty. The surprise for all was the number of children gathered to hear us. There were easily 100 children crowded onto the cement floor we had laid last year. They welcomed us with loud applause, and I think we were all humbled that so many eager children were so happy to see us. Us. With no clue of this 24 hours ago and felling unprepared and overjoyed and uncomfortable and glad all at the same time.

We went through some introducing, and more clapping and loud “Siiiis” (yes) from the kids, and then Mumsie went on a vim and vigour retelling of Elijah’s story with the widow. Jeannine had drawn some beautiful pictures to go along with the story, and those visuals coupled with Mumsie’s engaging narrative, not to mention the prayers in which everything was covered, helped make the presentation an excellent one.

But the theme of today was not Us, but God. God did it. God does it. We were completely lacking, and He was completely full. In Elijah’s story, Israel’s disobedience had brought on a drought, and Mumsie ended her story with God’s promise for rain, real rain that represented the provision God through His Son Christ Jesus provides. Talking to all these children about hunger and thirst, children who don’t always know where the next meal will come from, talking to these girls about the way God is sovereign and works in mysterious ways, girls who could easily be trafficked and prostituted tomorrow, was at once heartbreaking and hopeful. We prayed and prayed that this little, not-enough seed, would be used in the chain of providence God orchestrates to bring some of these children the assurance of salvation, even when everything else falls apart.

And then Mumsie’s story finished, with that promise of rain. And you know what? As soon as her last word was spoken, the heavens poured down rain, loud pounds of water clattering the tin roof as though it were in a percussion competition. We could not hear anything, but everyone was excited about the rain.

A girl from the village had cooked arepitas (seasoned and fried balls of yuca shreds) to sell, and Dad bought them all to hand out to the gathered children. Not everyone got some, but it was the best we could right there and then. After (most) tummies had something in them, we got to interact with some of the children on a more personal basis. The little girls just came up and hugged us and asked to be held while the boys, well, goofed off with the boys. Knepps had photo prints of children she had photographed last year and the girls mobbed her (again) with smiles and laughs as big as anything as they got to hold their very own pictures of their very own selves. Knepps, as usual, you are brilliant.

Soon we trekked up the hill, baby on hip and girl clinging to hand, and caught a beautiful panorama of the village. How can something so desolate look so beautiful?

But it wasn’t desolate. There were people. There were people with lives and souls and hardships and happiness. They do what they can with the land, and it bears fruit. They do what they can with they have, and they play games and work, just like anybody. It is beautiful.

And ugly. Ugly because of the continued sickness and danger and prostitution. Most people do not know Christ, and that is why I am so, so grateful for the people Iglesia Biblica del Nuevo Pacto (IBNP), who have invested in this village for years. Right at the crossroads there is now a church. Now there is a pastor and children and parents learning and loving the Word. I believe there is hope, and hopefully that hope will spread.

Time to say goodbye came. We all felt like we should’ve done more, stayed longer, talked more, helped more, done something, with all these faces and hearts behind them. But it was time to say goodbye.

I was not quite sure what to think on the way home. Honestly, I felt terrible we could not do more.

We went home and changed and went out to a restaurant, introduced some hungry people to the delights and differences of Dominican food, and met with a dear and long-lost friend, Ricardo. He will be moving to the States soon to attend seminary, so he and his family could not travel around with us like they did last year. But at least we could eat dinner and ice cream with them. Mr. and Mrs. Grove and my parents talked with Ricard about homeschooling, a subject about which he is anxious to learn since his family will begin that adventure once they are settled in the US. Exciting, no?

And then, we were really, very, honestly tired. Not even hazelnut and coconut and mango gelato could change that. We split up into Group One and Group Two again, and went to our respective homes.

But here’s the point. Dad talked to us about how we were all feeling about Villa. We felt like such a small part in something so big, and we were. But he reminded us that it is not about us. God uses all our talents and gifts and time. We give them over to His care, and He puts them to use. God brings a story of people into the different stories of our lives, and some play big parts and others little parts. They are all important and they are planned by the One who knows best. We may have just been a very small puzzle piece in the big picture called Villa, but God wanted us there for that time and we were there. We gave what we could, just like the widow, and God will use mysterious and obvious means to bring His children to Himself, even in Villa. Because, really, the lesson for today truly was the lesson for the day: God always provides even though He works in strange ways using strange means, and all for HIs glory.

Please keep IBNP in your prayers as they continue to be the tools God uses in one, small, precious village.

(excuse typos)

DR Trip 2014: Day One

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Fri, 25 Jul 2014 20:42:00 +0000

And we are doing it again. Going to the Dominican Republic with a bunch of crazies for two weeks full of introductions, recognitions, growth, and random service projects. Really, there is a lot of random.

For me, the DR Trip 2014 started long before we landed here last night (this morning). It began with the planning meetings and the emails and the early flights to Dulles for an early round of fellowship and getting to know near strangers whom we love because they love Christ, too.

But there is something nice about airports and departures and arrivals. We are really here at long last. Again.

The day began with people sauntering out of bed. I use the word ‘sauntering’ sparingly because I do not really care for how it sounds (it needs somebody with one of those artiste moustaches, no?), but this morning people really were sauntering out of their beds, moustache or no. Josh cooked breakfast for a crowd and people ate at their own good time, then sat around chatting and pulling some last minute things together before the rest of the team arrived to our house around eleven o’clock. Dad and Timothy, one of our teammates, travelled around Northern Virginia and Maryland doing yet another batch of errands. People from past DR trips relived old memories and beckoned the new faces into the fun. And there was something about sheets and notebooks and missing checks. I submitted my final exam, packed the infamous green cooler, and managed to squeeze in most of my course’s last discussion session before popping off to the airport.

Our airport experience was singularly boring compared to last year’s trip, but considering last year’s trip included being stranded in a parked airplane for four hours and bright blue shirts flashing by to catch a connecting flight, I think boring was a welcome surprise.

And, honestly, it was beautiful. We had two first-time flyers who experienced the exhilaration of taking off and the excitement of landing, the glory of seeing things from above, and flying face to face with a rainbow. That rainbow was majestic, as if it were saying, “Peace, be still.” As the sky darkened and we neared Santo Domingo, the island lights glittered like jewels across a black ocean, and we were regaled with a different kind of majestic.

Oh. I forgot Miami. Between the rainbows and the glitter, there was fish. Fish on my plate at the delicious Cuban restaurant in which we ate and then fish on the walls past which we walked. Yeah, seriously, there are walls of dead and colourful and arranged fish lining Section D in Miami Airport. And they are lovely, really.

But enough of that. We are here now. We were picked up from the Dominican Airport by Tomas Toribio and Bronco Chen(m). Tomas, you may recall, is a student and fellow missionary pastor with Daddy. He cooks breakfast to classical music. Bronco Chen(m), whose real name is something like Alex Almonte (but nobody really knows), was the driver for the team Dad took to Haiti and he attends one of the churches we know here. His name is hilarious. You might think, “Okay, Bronco’s weird, but, hey, he has a chauffeuring business, so Bronco kind of makes sense. Who knows about the Chen(m).”

But it’s better. Bronco Chem is the name of a medicine here for Bronchitis, and somehow the name stuck to an unwitting Alex Almonte (or something like that). He ran with it and stuck on his business truck. So the name of the business and the name of the driver are one and the same. Thank you, Dominicans, and thank you, Bronchitis.

Ahem.

Bronco and Tomas drove us to one of our homes, we unloaded our 19 suitcases plus carry-ons, and spent much time discussing who should sleep where and if a cold tile floor sounds more appealing than a soft warm bed.

Sleep won out in the end, and half of the team went Pastor Hector’s house while we stayed in our apartment. Group One, who stayed at Pastor Hector’s house, included Emily and Andrew Knepper, Jessie Blomgren, Katy Leamons, Timothy Rogers, James Caldwell, and Emily Leich ~ everybody without parents. Housing just worked out that way. Group Two was made up of everyone else, namely, the Groves and the Raimundos. It was hot out, but the city seemed to sleep that night and eventually everyone drifted off to a wee bit of rest before morning light really began.

Then…

Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb…you know. Now the team is breakfasted and back together in one room (and it’s only noon!) and we are going to have our first study session/information seminar before heading off to Villa Alta Gracia to host an impromptu VBS. But more on that in the next post.

Thanks for praying!

(excuse typos)

World Cups and Kotlovina

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 15 Jun 2014 01:31:00 +0000

The 2014 World Cup kicked off this Thursday with a rousing and questionably refereed game between Croatia and Brazil. In our house, and in our church, too, come to think of it, the World Cup ushers in about a month of excited conversation, sporadic shouts of glee or frustration, and general Football craze. It is all very lively and lovely indeed, and to make certain I do not completely abandon the sporting festivities, the Raimundo household began a fun little tradition last World Cup of following the Football schedule as our eating plan. I get to cook the foods of the countries playing any given day, we get a little geographical, gastronomical, and cultural education, and everyone gets to enjoy the World Cup as a family. Splendid solution, do you not agree?

Kotlovina

We decided to cook Croatian for the first game, and after some internet browsing and cookbook searching, I decided to try my hand at Kotlovina, a dish named for the pot-pan-spidergrillthing in which it is traditionally prepared. When Wikipedia (oh, my Wiki!) described Kotlovina as a pork knuckle stew, there was no doubt as to what we were eating Thursday night.

Kotlovina it was. But I would need pork for this meal, specifically joints, bones, chops, and sausage (I ended up nixing the sausage). Alas, the Raimundos are currently awaiting the arrival of our next half-pig from Skye Ridge Farm, so we resorted to The Organic Butcher in McLean, the next best place to buy pork in our area. An early morning call assured me there would be some succulent bones calling my name, plus a few Polyface chops which were on their way for fresh afternoon delivery. Honestly, the shopkeeper and I were mutually impressed the other knew what Polyface was. Anyway, some hours later found me soaking wet in their darling little hole in the wall, where I stumbled (I know, I'm a klutz) across some deliciously green and organic Brussels sprouts. These bright sweet cabbage-looking things are some of Jenn's favourite vegetables, and the organic kinds are a treasure to come by. Needless to say, they joined the pork on the wooden purchasing block in a heartbeat. Supper was cooking itself before my eyes!

The vehicle I was driving somehow delivered me safely home amidst torrents of rain and loud music, then I grabbed the camera, did a jig, and started cooking. My research had offered me a handful of Kotlovina recipes from which to choose; they were mostly similar, but some were more stewed and some were more fried and some were more starched and some were more veggied. You know what I mean. You also know that Jenn finds it insurmountably difficult to leave a recipe alone, so you can imagine what three recipes left me cooking. This is what happened:

Kotlovina, or, A dish from a certain part of Croatia that I can't remember the name of

Two pork shanks

Two 2-inch bone-in pork chops, a little bit more than a pound's worth

Three onions, sliced

One stalk of celery, sliced

One green or red sweet pepper, julienned

Two large ripe tomatoes, sliced

Five cloves garlic, sliced

One tablespoon paprika

A dash of hot paprika or red pepper flakes, to your liking

Two teaspoons ground mustard

Two or three cloves

A few fennel seeds

One crumbled bay leaf

A toss of the following spices: sage, oregano, thyme, parsley (we like a generous quantity of oregano)

A half cup of white wine or broth.

Real Salt, to your liking

Whew! That looks long written out, but it took me no time to throw all the seasonings in. Honest.

Since whatever Kotlovina is usually made in is usually made out of cast-iron, I used our cast-iron skillet to make the meal more authentic and to make clean-up afterwards a breeze. Double delight.

Thy pork marinates

Before cooking, season the pork with salt and pepper and let it marinade for a few hours.

Thy vegetables are chopped

But when it comes time to cook, the first task is to chop thine vegetables. You know how the Food Network people make meals in minutes? That's right. They chop all their vegetables first. I slice the onions last so the chemicals have the least time to make me cry, and by the time my onions are slicing, my pork is browning in a medium-high heat skillet.

Thy chops are browned

Get the pork nicely browned on all sides until it smells tantalising and not burnt (you can slice your onions now). Between the skin and fat from the shanks and chops, I did not need to add any fat to accomplish the browning. However, your pork might need some help. I trust you to make the call. Once beautifully browned, remove the meat from your skillet and add the onions. Sprinkle a smidgen of salt on the onions and let them become translucent.

Thine onions await

Proceed to toss in the rest of your vegetables and seasonings. Cook everything down a bit and stop to smell the flavors combining in a happy dance. Here's where you add your broth and/or wine. Whoosh! Don't you love that part? Your vegetables should start melting into a gorgeous mash which will serve as the perfect bed for your pork.

The vegetables mash (and their steam gets in the way of pictures)

Thy meal is ready

Put the pork to sleep in the skillet, turn the heat down to a lulling low, and cover the skillet with a decently-fitted-lid-that-didn't-come-with-the-cast-iron. The meat should take about thirty minutes to thoroughly cook into a tender rosy gray. During this time, you may add some more broth to maintain the dish's proper mushy consistency. Then it is finished! Serve with roasted potatoes or rice and a vegetable side, such as...

They're green. They're cute. What could go wrong?

Pan Seared Brussels Sprouts

One package of organic Brussels Sprouts, about three or four cups? I don't really know.
Pork drippings and snippings
Three garlic cloves, chopped
Water or broth
Salt and Pepper

Before

Wash the sprouts and heat a pan to medium-high. Throw in the porky goodness and let it sweat a bit, then add your Brussels to the party and sprinkle with salt and pepper. Toss the veggies around for a bit to make sure they brown but don't stick. Eventually you will need to add some water or broth so they can keep on softening without burning. About five minutes before serving, throw in the garlic and stir everything around. I truly wanted to avoid burning anything, so these Brussels sprouts took about twenty minutes to cook. After all, they are basically sweet little cabbage-cabbages.

And after

Hope you enjoy the food! I wonder for which countries we will be cooking in the final. Hmm...

P.S. This is the third time the Indiana Jones main theme has played since I began writing the post. I almost feel like Wagner would be a relief. Almost.

FIRE Conference 2014: Part Two

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 18 May 2014 23:01:00 +0000

Day Two

*Note: These posts are real-time Tuesday and Wednesday, but I was not able to post them until now due to internet connection and picture uploads.

The routine today was much the same as yesterday's, except for the requisite additional purchase of books, and thus I shall skip the "we did this and that and then the other" part of narration to plunge into an overview of the messages we heard and the ministries which caught my (and hopefully your) notice.

Josh was hauled into playing keyboard, and he fit right in.

First, for the sermons. As you may recall, we are working our backwards through FIRE, so the topics for today were "Independent" and "Fellowship". Joe Flatt had been charged with the former subject, and he proceeded to deliver a soul-gladdening message from Matthew 16:18-19. Basically, Christ owns the church, and God has deemed it well for ordinary people to be the basis of His institution. People are the keys to the church, and souls saved by grace make up His Bride. Is that not amazing? What is more, God's design includes flawed men running and shepherding His people. Why on earth would He do that? Perhaps to receive glory for the work done here on earth. How else but by His grace could a crowd of fishermen, farmers, insurance guys, coppers, and those strange seminary students keep a church going? Yes, it truly is all grace. Although not directly in the sermon, something struck me about the passage being expounded. Christ is the rock but He is also naming Peter the rock. I know the exact interpretation of this text is debated, but it appears to me that Jesus here is not really setting Peter up as a representation of Himself. No, the idea and play on words is more profound. Jesus is giving Peter His own identity. Christ is the cornerstone, and Peter is the rock because Christ is making him more like Himself. Pastors, and all of us, are Christians, "little Christs," who take on the identity of Jesus by His grace. Glorious much? And I think Peter might be carrying this image of Matthew 16 on into his writing in 1 Peter 2.

Joe Flatt on "Independent"

Anyway, that sets up for the conclusions Pastor Flatt drew from the text. 1) Christ builds His church through flawed human beings, so it must be clear that biblically approved men lead the church, those men are not individually indispensable, and God gets all the glory for whatever the church does. 2) Christ owns the church in the sense of architect, contractor, owner, and builder, so His design serves as the only floor plan. Don't mess with it. The building imagery also indicates the church is a building zone, and the building is not yet complete. Church can be messy and change faces from time to time because, remember, God uses people. But this same church is a guaranteed work in progress, for the owner is the confident Son of God and He boldly declares it will be made perfect. Yeah, stick with it. It's so worth it. 3) Christ owns the church in the sense that it's not yours. Don't behave like you own it, because you don't. No power play, please. 4) Because Christ owns it, the church will succeed no matter what. Not even Hades, Hell and Death and all that evil, will prevail against the battering ram of the church under Christ's banner. Now, that means only the church will succeed. She's the ship to be in, friends, for Christ is manning her. Don't look for salvation or success anywhere else. Oh, yes, and that success is defined by the Owner (Christ), not the gofer (men). Christ's definition of success equals Him saving and sanctifying a people for Himself. That's it, and don't worry about anything else. He is truly the perfect Orchestrator, the glorious Head, and the certain Champion. Therefore, praise God for the opportunity to serve in your local church! And let us not grow fainthearted, for He will fulfill His promises in and through us.

Yep. It was an epic sermon, and I could just see some of the pastors stand taller as Pastor Flatt finished. I mean, there's a lot of pressure removed when you realise you are simply instruments in a completely reliable Redeemer's hands! We non-pastors might want to think about how we treat our church leaders in light of these truths. Are my expectations, or non-expectations, of my local shepherd biblical and Christlike? How should I deal with him/them in light of this? Food for thought.

We took time to pray for one another in small groups

Next up came Steve Krogh preaching on "Fellowship" from...where? I was stumped on where the text would come from for both "Independent" and "Fellowship". Well, Steve Krogh went with the book of Malachi. Surprised? So was I. But it was awesome (again, in the real sense of the word). "Comfort ye my people" came to mind again and again as I listened through the sermon. Pastor Krogh started off by going through the many times God tells Israel "but you say" as the Israelites counteract God's words with their dreadful doubts about His love, worthiness, covenant, and justice in their time of trial. By chapter three, this slippery mental slope leads the Israelites to command repentance of God, call sin blessed, and question the utility of serving the Lord. It is not a pretty train of thought, yet it is also not a foreign one, even to those of the faith.

We also took time to eat, promise!

But what does this have to do with Fellowship? I was definitely asking that question half way through my sermon notes. And then BAM. Malachi 3:16 starts answering our wonderment. There were those who yet feared the Lord, who yet knew God is loving, worthy, faithful, just, and pure. And what did these God-trusters do? They spoke with one another. To me, that was like lightning. I know a chief defense mechanism of mine when I am hurting is retreat, isolation, withdrawal. Certes, everyone needs time to think and rest, for sure, but 'tis easy to use that good alone time as a cover up and take it much too far. The true solution to pain is fellowship! Fellowship around a common fear of the Lord. Convicting news to me, that was. Sometimes there really is pain in the offering of serving God, and it is within the fellowship of believers that we share and carry our joys and sorrows. How wonderful! What a spur to know Scripture so we might speak His words to our needy brothers and receive His words from our loving sisters in Christ. Although I felt like this would be the high point of the sermon, it just got better, for Malachi goes on to say that the Lord heard and paid attention to this fellowship of believers, and He called them "mine". Awesome. And then God wrote their names in a scroll of remembrance (like the scrolls Mordecai read to the sleepless king in Esther), because He has a purpose for His children, for those who trust even in the dark times. See, He is gathering us up for That Day when He will call all of His children "mine" and be glorified in us as His completed building, a beautiful Bride, a perfect fellowship of saints. God has something more glorious than we can imagine, no matter how prone we are to forget that glory in our darkness. And in Fellowship we remember That Glory and move ever closer towards That Day. The End.

Exactly. No words.

Steve Krogh on "Fellowship"

The day, and the conference, ended with one last rousing message from Joe Boot, who wrote a really really neat book on history for God's glory. He challenged us to live out our faith, speaking of "cult"ure as a "cult"ivation, religion expressed and belief applied. If we believe like a Christian, we need to live like a Christian in every single sphere of life. Christians are not compartmentalists; they dump their beliefs on everything they touch. And thus we go through time here on earth. I love love love that sort of thing, that concept of God working in history, and so I only grew even more glad before everything drew to a close.

What's a conference without those crazy group pictures?

But close it did...and so must this blog post. I know I said I would talk about the missions stuff that excited me from today and yesterday, but for your sake I will save that for tomorrow. This glorified version of sermon notes took up all the space even a long blog post allows, and don't your eyes know it! So come back tomorrow.

FIRE Conference 2014: Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sat, 17 May 2014 15:50:00 +0000

Can you imagine being in a huge skylit room filled with pastors and their families worshipping the same God around His truth and learning from His word? That's me this week, and I am ever so thankful for it.

I am also ever so thankful for FIRE* and their national conference, which by God's grace has made this experience possible. The messages preached by this group of men have been so good, and the encouragement in ministry and love so profound, and the books so abundant and compellingly travel-friendly, that I have decided to conference blog today and tomorrow.

The happiest, most dangerous picture of them all.

The day bounced into motion with an odd search for the correct breakfast room in this sprawling college campus. The search did involve three breakfasts in successive breakfast rooms, but other FIRE conferencers were doing the same thing along with us, so I suppose it was not that strange. The food was great, by the way.

But not as good as the other sort of food awaiting. This morning was one of those bright Canadian mornings where the sky is really blue and the grass is really green and everything else has a kind of cheery yellow hue, and this effect was enhanced by the wall-to-wall windows in the session room which streamed in buckets of good, hale light. We were obviously in a great position to sing and worship the God which had brought us all together from around the world.

And sing we did! I love it when true believers sing. There is in it something divine.

People slowly filtered in as the band rose up to play.

Following this praise of song, about a dozen or so of the gathered pastors took turns presenting the states of their various churches and/or missions. We call these our Ministry Reports. Honestly, I was not sure what to expect from a crowd of men updating people on the past year of life, but I certainly did not expect for their reports to ground and hearten me in the faith. Yet that is precisely what happened! Through listening to these Biblically solid men describe the way God had worked in the last twelve months, I was reminded of the faithfulness of God. Even when your elder's wife is dying from physical abuse she sustained starting at the age of two. Even when your church is growing and you have planted churches and sent off international missionaries and are striving to keep the right intimacy a local church should have. Even when your leading pastor suddenly dies or needs to go into retirement and you don't know who will replace him. Even when you are living in Slumville and your main work is with crack addicts. Even when your town's living costs are much too high and all your young families have to move out. Even when you are a policeman or chaplain who is learning how to balance being a pastor as well ~ in the wake of a terrible mudslide. Even when your fifteen-year-old son dies horribly in a car crash. God is still faithful and trustworthy and good. He always provides. He always delivers. And He always gives His children the best. Those are all real stories from pastors in just this past year. And yet all of the men were calm, and joyful, and complete, knowing that our God is indeed sovereign in grace and unsurpassable in love. It was remarkable to observe the gifted faith of God in these men called by Him to pastor His flock. There are indeed good men out there, and we serve a good God.

Ministry booths set out for browsing

Another great reinforcement of my trust in God was the missionary focus which gushes from these ministry reports. The idea that Reformed people cannot be joyful, fearless, passionate (in the real sense of the word) evangelicals all around the globe positively crumbled before the updates of the men gathered today. There are sola scriptura families going to isolated people groups in Alaska and the upper regions of Canada. There are sola fide couples headed to undisclosed locations to spread the gospel, just so they can keep on serving God after American "retirement." There are sola gratia families going to Berlin and Romania to plant churches and work with troubled youth (I will be telling you more about these kinds of endeavors tomorrow). There are solus Christus men planting seeds and strengthening the understanding of believers in Northern Ireland through the unashamed use of His word. There is a Soli Deo Gloria community around the world all learning and teaching the importance of strong, indigenous local churches that are fully equipped to biblically counsel and disciple their congregations. Friends, there are people living by God's grace doing God's work all around us! Realising this brought me not only joy, but also a deeper desire to join in their work wherever God has me. He works in and through His people, after all.

Corbit and Kelli White, who are going to church plant in Berlin

Lunch. The conference food actually looked pretty good.

Between sermons and ministry reports, we enjoyed a nice lunch spread and plenty of coffee, hot chocolate, and a grand assortment of teas. Whatever else the food was, it involved an oversized basin of Greek Salad, which had Jenn smiling to herself. FIRE always provides ample time for fellowship during "meals" and "coffee breaks", because they know there is where all the action takes place. These hours are filled with pastors and their families meeting up and talking and talking and talking and brainstorming ~ with no time constraints! Apart from the messages, I can tell that this time of uninhibited fellowship is what causes these weather beaten pastors to leave with a spring in their step. It's a happy time all around.

The messages of the conference are going through the acronym of FIRE (Fellowship of Independent Reformed Evangelicals) in reverse order, so today we heard a message on "Evangelical", taken from Hebrews 10, and another on "Reformed", taken from Ephesians 2.

Scheming? Encouraging? Chit-chat? All of the above.

Jim Elliff preached on "Evangelical" and did a fantastic job of it. The point of his message was that at the heart of the gospel is Christ. This sounds simple and obvious, but it is not, for we often live as though it were not true. Pastor Elliff took us through Hebrews 10 and showed how Christ fulfilled and surpassed the sacrificial system of the Old Testament, pointing out the way Hebrews uses priestly language and imagery to make much of Christ as the Great High Priest. The blood of sheep and bulls could not dream of taking care of sin; they just pointed all the more blatantly to the sin we carry and to the Christ we need. Christ's work is the perfect work, and no other sacrifice counts. Yet we see the author of Hebrews warning people who know this gospel to not drift away from its centre: Christ. And don't I know it is our tendency to drift from His perfect sacrifice! How easy it is for us believers to slide away from His atoning work and start relying on other sacrifices, on our own works, on our past religion of self. The author of Hebrews, and thereby Pastor Elliff, exhorts us to just don't. Don't rely on the blood of sheep and bulls, on our own blood, sweat, and tears, to make us holy. No, His Sacrifice is the only one that works. Holiness comes from Him, who redeems us, sets us apart, consecrates us, for good works which He already has designed (Titus 2 and 3). Good works go up in our estimation when they are because and born of Christ, and this is something evangelicals - all believers who are all ministers - must keep forefront in their life. Also using more priestly language, Hebrews calls us to draw near as Christ's Body because His sacrifice was so perfect, so perfect that there could not be a more perfect sacrifice. What confidence we may have in Christ, in the true gospel! The point of the message is that we are as forgiven, cleansed, perfected, as we could possibly be through Christ for God. So let's live that out. Amen?

Pastor Crotts preaching on "Reformed"

Then, John Crotts preached a solid sermon on "Reformed", from (where else?) Ephesians 2. It was a beautiful message resounding with the grace of God and the humility yet boldness with which we live because of what He has done for us. He described our desperate condition before salvation, God's gracious solution to our desperate death (that glorious "but God!"), and the new characteristics of believers saved by God for God. My favourite ideas drawn from this sermon were, first, that God planned salvation in such an awesome way so that He would get all the glory. Really, now, the song we will be singing in Revelation 5:4-9 is a chorus of praise for His great work of salvation. And since we are humbled before yet exalted with Christ {!}, we are happiest when we see Him get all the glory. Yes, yes, yes! Secondly, I loved how Pastor Crotts highlighted that we are God's workmanship. Our salvation was the work of a virtuoso, our sanctification the masterpiece of a superb artist. He even designed the good works He would have us do beforehand (Ephesian 2:10, and an excellent throwback to Pastor Elliff's sermon)! Yeah, salvation is exciting. God is awesome. The end.

As if that were not enough joy and food for application for one day, there was another message preached by Glenn Dunn on "Unity, Liberty, and Charity" because FIRE's motto is "In essentials Unity, in nonessentials Liberty, and in all things Charity." Taken from Ephesians 4 and John 17 mainly, the thrust of this message was that our unity is centered on truth. When we throw truth away, we throw away the possibility of Christian communion. We see Jesus praying in the garden for us to be united in truth (His word is truth), and He prayed this right before He went to the cross, so obviously this was very important to Him. That ought to sober us up straightaway. These were "last words" requests, and His work has made His request a sure reality. Pastor Dunn outlined four areas to grow in for unity: 1) Love ~ we love because He first loved us, 2) Mind ~ we have the mind of Christ being formed in us, and His mind is definitely not divided, 3) Evangelism ~ fellowship among believers is an amazing witness to the lost, for they will know us because our love one for another, and 4) Purpose ~ we are united in our goal and aim, God's glory. That is our chief end, and if we are all working to the same goal, of course we must be and behave in unity. May God be glorified in His people!

Not exactly the point of the conference, but, hey, it's important.

That is all for today. It certainly got me singing a tune! I expect tomorrow's lineup will be just as good. Since I covered the introduction here, tomorrow's post should be shorter than this doozy of an info message.

*Without getting into too much detail, FIRE (Fellowship of Independent Reformed Evangelicals) is a group of churches and pastors who rally around the sufficiency of Scripture and the sovereignty of God, and their conferences are basically these pastors sitting around and talking about it. Oh, and coffee and food and note-taking on tiny digital apparatuses, mainly iPads. And wonderful fellowship. And books!!!

The Best Preacher

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sat, 22 Mar 2014 21:21:00 +0000

Wouldn't you like to know who the best preacher of the Bible is? Be savvy of the guy who guarantees you a pure, simple, and profound look at the Bible every single Sunday? How about have constant access to the expositor who knows exactly how to tailor the Word to your soul and circumstances?

No, I shan't be comparing the Pipers and Sprouls and MacArthurs and Carsons of this world to see who comes out on top. This is not a shameless plug for my dad's sermons (oh, wait, don't look now, but...) or for my list of favourite preachers and authors.

Draw near in a snowy sunrise

This is me reminding me, and maybe you as well, of the wonderful gift of entry we have to the Best Preacher that ever was or will be. This is me exhorting me to faithfully draw near, and often.

Perhaps by now you have an inkling of Who it is I am alluding to ~ and, no, C.S. Lewis does not come anywhere near close.

Yes, my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ, you and I who belong to God have a free and unlimited subscription to the Holy Spirit. We don't need to go on YouTube, we don't need to pay any online streaming fees, we don't need to buy the latest books. The message of the Gospel is that God makes it possible for God to live in us so that we can live in Him. Guys, the gift of faith gives us the Spirit of God. We already have the best Preacher.

The Spirit of the Comforter, the Spirit of the Father, the Spirit of Truth, indwells us by God's matchless grace. I don't know how to make it sound exciting, but, think about it: God has given us HIS SPIRIT to live inside of us! No Piper can touch our heartstrings in the way that the Holy Spirit, who knows us, can speak to our souls. No Carson can shed the light of doctrine to our very own unique minds in the magnificent way that the Holy Spirit imparts truth to our souls. No Lewis can explain and sanctify our desires in the way that the Holy Spirit radically transforms our souls. The Best Preacher is with us, all the time, everywhere. This is news of inexpressible joy, is it not, my friends? Let us not ignore or neglect that gift.

But O how often do we do just that! See, the Spirit is God and the Spirit brings Truth. That means He always acts in accordance with the Word of God. The present of the Spirit is that He uncovers, unbinds, enlightens, convicts, applies, and comforts us in the Word of Truth, the Bible. But how frequent are the days where we do not give the Bible a second glance, apart from maybe doing a quick word search to send a friend some encouragement or gobbling a chapter down just in time for that weekly Bible study. How often do we slight personal enrichment in Scripture! The fact is, if there is no Bible before our eyes, there is no Spirit working in our hearts. The Two, the Person and the Word, go together hand in hand. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit gives us a love for His Word so that it is a delight to be pierced by His sword and strengthened in all truth. If the Spirit lives in us by God's grace, He will always draws us back to Scripture...eventually.

Draw nigh when life seems to be a bed of roses

So do I love His Word or do I balk at it, or, as is often the case, do I forget about it? Do I read it? Am I starving myself of His truth in my life? Am I denying myself the food He provides me through the work of His Spirit in the Word? Again, let us not ignore the gift of the Spirit speaking directly to our hearts through Scripture. That's something no earthly preacher can do.

I mean, peoples, this is why Jesus Christ ascended into Heaven! He said it was better for us to have the Holy Spirit during this season. Don't believe me? Slide down to these excerpts from John 14-16 (well, really, if you have time, just read John 14-17 in its entirety...like all the time. But for now, portions will have to do):

'“If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever, even the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, for he dwells with you and will be in you. I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Yet a little while and the world will see me no more, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. In that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you. ... These things I have spoken to you while I am still with you. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you."' [John 14:15-20, 26]

"“But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness about me."' [John 15:26]

'"But now I am going to him who sent me, and none of you asks me, ‘Where are you going?’ But because I have said these things to you, sorrow has filled your heart. Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged. I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth, for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine; therefore I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you."' [John 16:5-15]

And draw nigh in the cloudy skies

So you see? Christ Himself assured His disciples, and thereby us, that, as shockingly dreadful and terrifying as it may sound, Christ leaving to be with the Father was actually a good thing. As always, God leaves us with the best for our life. The best for us is the Comforter, the Being who knows us individually and grows us into unity; the Person who unlocks the secrets of our hearts to convict us of sin and open us to righteousness; the Spirit who is 100% with us so we don't have to go on a pilgrimage to Israel to meet the Christ. These are just a few of the blessings we have in the Holy Spirit, and it is with Him that Jesus chose to console His disciples upon His departure. Let us be consoled and reassured as well, and let us take advantage of the incredible gift we have in this Spirit of Truth! Let us go to the Preacher daily. Let us do so with relish and in joy. May the Scripture he illuminates fill us with delight.

Aka: Read. Our. Bibles.
And He fills us with His truth and wisdom. And we will have The Best Preacher Ever: a Heavenly one, the Spirit of God.

But one last thing. Although I am trying to not disclaim myself all the time (hehe), I think this post merits a disclaimer. Jenn Jenn is NOT ~ I repeat: by no means ~ telling you to chuck out your church and your pastor and your good books to just "go it alone" with you and your independent lil self. God gives us a love for His Word, and a love for His People. He designed us to grow in Community and under Biblical Counsel. Is Scripture sufficient? Absolutely. Are we hermits with a Book and a candle in a cave? Absolutely not. So don't quit church. Christians don't quit church. Christians read their Bibles ~ not as a duty, but as a delight. Capisce? Good. Thanks. You may go now.

Photo discredit Jenn Jenn

On Mary and Martha, or, On Hospitality

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 16 Mar 2014 22:49:00 +0000

"Christ in the House of Martha and Mary" by Diego Velásquez, 1618

"Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me." But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her."
~Luke 10:38-42

There are so many lessons to draw out of this text, as many people already have, so I will not here try to be exhaustive, but just focus on one thing.

Hospitality. Hospitality, that is, in Christ.

Usually when I have seen this text expounded upon, I come out thinking Martha and Mary are pitted against each other on all levels and Martha is horrid for serving drinks while she should be listening to Jesus. "Chip the glasses and crack the plates! Just sit at Jesus' feet!" At least, that is what I hear (perhaps mistakenly, I admit).

Anyhow, whenever I do hear that, my little toe spazzes and my eyebrows yank and my ear twitches. As in, I am bothered. Mayhaps 'tis because I have so often identified with Martha, mayhaps 'tis because I like practicality and never understood the whole "Let them eat cake!" mentality. I mean, people still need water and food to keep breathing, whether they worship God or Vishnu. And Jesus knew that. So I could never bring myself to believe that what Christ actually wanted Martha to do was to throw out the vittles and live on the dew of the universe as she sat enthralled at His feet. There had to be something else, or maybe something more.

Let's take a peek at the text, and see if anything pops up. First, what exactly does Martha do? She welcomes Jesus into her house. That's something, no? How many people do you think were welcoming a hunted Pharisee-infuriating Rabbi? Nevertheless, after that good start, Martha became "distracted with much serving." Ouch! She was missing out on the very thing she spent so much time and energy to facilitate: welcoming the person of Christ into her home. On the other hand, Mary sat at Jesus' feet to hear whatever He came to say in the first place. But Martha was distracted with serving.

What was her problem? Was it the food? Was it the dusting? Was it the napkins folded like swans and the spoons set in the proper order, or preparing the perfect menu and making sure The Rabbi ate local and organic? (Okay, so maybe those were not exactly first-century problems, but you get my point.) Nope! The service and the meal and the cleanliness were not Martha's sin. They may have been her headaches, but they were not her problem.

Read that one sentence again. "But Martha was distracted..." Ohhhhh. She was distracted. As in, she was totally off-tract (track). Yes, her problem lay not in the glasses and the plates, but in her purpose with those glasses and plates, in that purpose which was letting the food get in the way of The Food. Martha's focus, goal, vision were all wrong.

You know what? I think Martha could have served a superb spread in a beautifully clean house without bringing Jesus' loving rebuke upon herself. The problem was not her hospitality, but her heart. And you know what also? I think Mary was probably a great help around the house. I bet she wasn't some ascetic dreamer who eschewed dusting as some low, insignificant calling. See, Mary's heart was right, so her hospitality could be pure, too. If only Martha's heart were in the right place, with the right focus, she would have been able to be a lovely hostess and a loving listener as well.

But her heart wasn't in the right place. It was distracted, remember? She let her soul bend on the cutlery and the preparations, and that was her undoing.

What is the remedy, for me and for her and for you? Yeah, you are smart. You guessed it. The "one thing that is necessary": Christ.

If Martha's focus had been on Christ, she would have provided what was needed to better enable her guests, and herself, to drink in His words. Instead of worrying about how the floors reflected on her housekeeping skills, instead of agonizing over whether the meal showed off her culinary achievements to their greatest advantage ~ in short, instead of being "anxious and troubled about many things" ~ Martha could have gladly and simply served the Master with a selfless heart so she could sit at His feet, too. Will people need water and some bread on this hot and dusty day in order to better focus on Jesus? Yes? Alright, we will provide some. She could skip the caviar happily if that meant allowing Jesus to shine brighter in her home. She could leave out the crystal and china if their requisite care would have "distracted" anyone (including herself) from what Jesus had to say. Basically, if it helped Jesus be big in her house, it was a go, and she could relax and rejoice. However, if it shoved Jesus away from her house, it had to go, and she could still relax and rejoice!

Mary grasped this concept. She chose the better thing and focused on the Master, knowing that everything domestic was already in order for Him to be the center of attention. Any more fussing over details would have only been superfluous and distracting to the whole point of their hospitality: Christ, the One Thing Necessary.

What does this mean for our hospitality, then?

It means that all the fiddling we do with the plates, the menu, and the dusting must have one purpose and one purpose only: making much of Christ. It means you can be a Martha. You can be a Martha with a Mary heart, a Mary vision, and a Mary desire. You can relish in folding your cloth napkins into swans or in having your toddler try his best to make a triangle with paper towels. You can serve an ∞-course meal (like in Babette's Feast) or grab a casserole out of the freezer.
Should China dishes only distress and prevent you, and therefore your guests, from beholding Jesus in the midst of your home, crack the China. Should your use of China dishes bless you and your guests by showing the generosity and love and splendor of Christ to those coming over for the evening meal, then, by all means, break out the China (not, ahem, literally) and delight in the afternoon-teaness of it. Whatever serves to exalt the name of God in your home, whatever most shows the love and grace and truth and glory of our Lord Jesus Christ to His guests at your house is precisely what you ought to do.

Remember, we are simply stewards left for a while on this earth to glorify the King and bless His name. That's what your welcome mat is for. That's what your pocket-book is for. That is what your broom is for, and your pots and pans, and disposable plates and crystal jars. They are all the King's, loaned to you as tools for making Him known on His earth while you are here. Go ye therefore, brothers and sisters, and use those instruments for their one purpose: to make disciples in His person and truth.

So the next time you are flying frantic "getting the house clean for company," please remember to prepare the necessary things to magnify the One Thing Necessary. Believe me, your frantic state is not on the necessary list. In other words, turn your eyes upon Jesus, friends, and make sure you can look full in His wondrous face as you overview the table-settings, bathrooms, kitchens, and front door. Because, really, those things of earth grow strangely dim in the light of his glory and grace.

A Dominican Roast Pork (GAPS-Legal)

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Wed, 12 Feb 2014 15:05:00 +0000

Really, I do cook in styles other than Dominican. Honest. But for now you are just going to have to trust me on that one because what I share here with you today is, yes, another Dominican recipe.

This time for pig. Preferably a piggish object raised on a farm and enjoying the title "here piggy piggy" throughout its happy and multifaceted-food-filled life. We are blessed enough to have family friends who raise pigs (and chickens) on their gorgeous Virginia homestead, and, ever since they started porking, we started buying. It was indeed a joyous day that our freezer welcomed its first pork inhabitants.

You see, we Raimundos are the closest things to living dwarves that you will come across in this neck of the woods. Can you picture Gimli's eyes fluttering as he wistfully sighs, "Aye, sal' porrrk..." Yeah, that's us.

Now, there are plenty of ways to cook pig, including doing it Cuban-style in the backyard with a huge hole in the earth. But I am packing away my quarter of Cuban for this post, and throwing out the honey-cured store-bought ham we never liked anyway, to present you with the Green Monster: a roast pork haunch. (Besides, you really don't want me to tell you about that time Dad tried to do a pit-roast an entire pig in Cold Canadia, do you....)

To accomplish this surprisingly simple dish, you will need to gather:

~ A pork shoulder or leg (uncured, raw, fresh ham cut) from a farm-raised pig
~ Two bunches cilantro
~ One or two heads of garlic (yes, heads, not cloves)
~ An assorted mixture of a few lemons and many limes, about 6 or 7 in total
~ An abundance of dried oregano
~ Generous amounts of unrefined Sea, Celtic, or Himalayan salt
~ Enough ground black pepper to get along with (I know, I am so precise)

The first step in the pork-roasting process is to make the marinade. Fill a bowl with warm water and place your citrus in there to hang out for a while. Pull out a blender (and its lid....really, you will want the lid. I tried), rinse out your cilantro (don't bother drying the pretty green bunches), and toss said herb into your blender. Next, peel your heads and cloves of garlic. You can accomplish this by banging each clove on its round side with the broad side of a big knife. Smash! Now you have a piece of garlic from which the papery wrappings magically slide off. Throw all the peeled garlic into the blender.

See the fuzzies?

And now we come to the citrus. Dry off your warmed and juicy limes and lemons and, reserving one lemon, peel them, too. First, cut off the pointy ends of the fruits so that they can stand up on the cutting board. Then all you have to do is slide your knife down the sides of the citrus to remove their crocodile skins. The naked limes and lemons resemble cute, furry fuzz-balls, like creatures out of Monster's Inc. which Boo would want for her teddy bear. Anyway. Now cut the fuzz-balls in half to easily remove the seeds, then throw fuzz-balls into blender. I know it takes a long time to write out, but this method is much quicker than having to squeeze each lime and lemon by hand, and then having to make sure you don't have any seeds in the blender. Believe me, all this involves is peeling, slicing, and popping out seeds. And who doesn't enjoy that?

So, you've got a blender full of grass and cute little frutsies and things that look like teeth. Appetizing, I know, but salt solves everything. Let some of that salt rain down on the blender (about a heaping Tablespoon will do) and then add in about an equal amount of dried oregano. You can add a pinch of pepper, too, if you like.

Blend, baby, blend.

Cilantro, citrus, and salt. 'Tis scrumptious.

You see where the "green" of the Green Monster comes in, eh? Well now we turn to the "monster" half of the name.

Pull out your pork leg and wash it. This means: Grab that reserved lemon and slice it. Then, take a clean sink and plop in the huge haunch and run it over with water. All around ~ inside, outside, and that fifth side nobody ever notices. With the water still running, rub the lemon all over the leg, just like you did with the water. Now pat the pork dry and place it on the roasting pan in which it will be roasted.

Sprinkle both sides of the roast with more salt, pepper, and oregano, and then introduce the Green to the Monster. Slather the stuff all over the thing, twisting and turning and positioning as you go. Music might be appropriate for this situation, especially if the leg is half the size of the cook.

It really was ginormous.

This process complete, cover the roast (fat-side up) with aluminum foil and pop (or hoist) it into the oven. I do all this in the morning and then let Pork get acquainted with Oven until noon, when I turn up the heat. If you want to have a proper mid-day dinner rather than eat this at supper, you can marinade the pork the night before and let it chill in the fridge until you shove the pan into the oven at the break of morn.

Whenever it is you decide to do the shoving and the heating, plan on cooking it, covered, in a 300* F oven for five to six hours. After that time, and when you see that the ham bone is exposed (that is, the muscle meat has shrunk back to reveal the bone), cast aside the aluminum foil and broil the roast at 450* F or 500* F for fifteen to thirty minutes, until the fat up top is nice and browned and everything smells so good you can hardly wait.

The Green Monster Roast. Blurry because I was probably
laughing while photographing. It happens ALL the time.

Remove roast and let rest, covered, for ten minutes before carving and dishing it up. You can serve this with Dominican Rice and Beans (recipe for the latter on its way) for an authentic meal. And don't forget to enjoy!

Photos by me.

This recipe took part in the Real Food Wednesday blog carnival.

Confessions of a Self-Professed Introvert

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 09 Feb 2014 22:53:00 +0000

Study of a Boy, by Thomas Sword Good

(And, yes, others will profess I am an introvert, too.)

After all, introversion is rather obvious. And common. In fact, the number of introverted memes and articles and hilarious cartoons spreading themselves all over my feed(s) have recently taken me quite by surprise. I wonder what has prompted such a tremendous outpouring of introversion mania? Lest you my fellow introverts begin to turn tail and run, rest assured that I did not login to bash our fellow brethren. Still, I am not here to defend us, either. Perhaps one would call what I am about to do "taking (parts of) introversion captive to Christ." Deal?

First off, though, is our usual definition of terms. What is an introvert?
Here are a few results from my five seconds of research:

1. A shy person
2. Turning inward (etymology for you)
3. Someone concerned primarily with his own thoughts and feelings
4. Someone who expends energy to, rather than gets energy from, other people. An introvert gathers energy, instead, from private reflection.

Now, that is what "they" ("the experts") say. Because "the experts" hardly ever know what exactly it is they are talking about, a few qualifications are in order. For one, an introvert is not necessarily shy. There are a lot of bold introverts and a lot of scared extraverts out there. Believe me, I have met them. And so probably have you. For two, extraverts can reflect and think, too. No excuses, no occasion for pride. You are human = you can reflect. For three, introverts are not necessarily quiet. For four, introverts really are capable of genuinely enjoying and loving people. We just like to make the point that 1) to enjoy someone is not to be constantly texting, hugging, talking, kissing, laughing, playing, fawning (or any other gerund you can imagine) them, and 2) to enjoy someone is not to enjoy everyone all at once all the time.

A Girl Reading, by Jean Baptiste Camille Corot

That said, are these traits inherently good? Bad? Ugly? Are extraverts on the side of God or vice versa? These are the questions I shall herein address today. ~ Please remember, I am not infallible and any question I pose you ought to answer for yourself with the Bible and Biblical wisdom. Disclaimer over. ~

I think what should be stated clearly at the outset is that neither introversion nor extraversion is per se sinful or godly. As with anything pertaining to natural temperament, each one of us has different strengths and weakness which all need to be brought before the feet of Jesus to be ironed out, stain-removed, made white as snow, sanctified. Sometimes certain character traits need done away with altogether; others might need treble reinforcing. Thus with introversion and extraversion: one does not lie higher on the piety scale than the other; both must go to Christ to seek His heart and will on the subject. Indeed, one Christian once told me that, as he drew nearer to God, he slowly changed into a more people-tended person, whereas another Christian told me that his growth in Christ had caused him to become more thoughtful and private and reflective. No, being one or the other is not going to get you any closer to Christ. Only the journey to His Spirit will do that. And that means that you and I will have to take a good, cold, hard look at what we do and why we do it regarding introversion and extraversion and root out what is alien to Christ while watering and grafting in that which is near to the heart of God.

For example, here are a few personal realities which I think most people would attribute to my "introversion":

~ I come home tired after being with people, even people whom I love to be with
~ I enjoy being alone, whether I am busy or not
~ My preference most certainly does not wend towards small talk, or any talk that does not get to an important point, for that matter ("important", admittedly, being a Jenn-arbitrary standard)
~ I enjoy "looking on" rather "being in"
~ I do sit on my bed and cry after being with people "too much" (again, another Jenn-arbitrary standard)
~ My preference is to have a small group of close friends rather than a vast amount of "buddies"
~ Along the same lines, I would rather have one long and deep conversation than engage in six short and chatty ones
~ I get a kick (whatever that means) out of thinking about the why's and when's and how's and what's of my actions, and those of others (I mean, have you read my blog lately?)
~ Articulating is a conscious, tasking process for me, thus I write more easily than I speak
~ Books (not Reindeer) are better than people...I mean...um.... These were confessions, right?
~ And people are scary (better put, Jenn fears people. And definitely a confession.)

Yes, confessions. That is the Jenn version of introversion. See how not everything is bad, not everything is good, much needs to be cut out, some needs to be improved upon and Christ-saturated? So it goes for anything.

A Man Reading, by Thomas Sword Good

What I want to hone in on in this episode is the relationship with people that intro/extraversion involves. Most places you look will say that introverts are drained of energy when with people. The question for a Christian, for me, is why? Why do I get tired out when with people? This is where I know that I at least need to bring "introversion" to my Master.

I know that on many occasions the reason for my post-polyhomosapien exhaustion rests in my fear of people. Now, am I really scared of people? Do I think they turn into green-eyed monsters with fangs who lurk around at night? Of course not. People drain me because I feel as though I need to invest in them so they will appreciate me, like me, respect me, admire me, love me. I see myself through what I think they think about me, and that necessarily disregards everything God thinks about me. When one views people in this light, one does not love; one uses. One does not give, one takes. In short, when I seek validation and applause in people, I worship them. And whom you worship, you fear. But the hitch is that only God can be feared and loved and worshipped all at the same time, for He is the only one who ought to be worshipped. And, as C.S. Lewis so often liked to say, putting second things first corrupts the seconds and casts out the firsts.

Unfortunately for this side of Jenn-introversion, Dad is preaching through 1 John at our church. And if you know anything about the Johns, you know that a huge emphasis is on loving people because of and through the love God pours out on His children.

"...the darkness is passing away and the true light is already shining. Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness. Whoever loves his brother abides in the light, and in him there is no cause for stumbling. But whoever hates his brother is in the darkness and walks in the darkness, and does not know where he is going, because the darkness has blinded his eyes." (1 John 2:8-11).

Tough, at least for the fearful introvert. Sure, if one returns tired from a long day at a party because he or she expended energy into loving the people there, that is perfectly alright. The Bible is not here commanding that you be a bouncy well of energy that merrily yips and yaps at every turn. What the Bible here commands is for us to put others before ourselves and seek the best in Christ for our fellow brothers and sisters of the faith. So, if I trip into my room exhausted from a hard day's work of making people like me (aka using them), then we have a problem on our hands.

That is control. That is pride. That is worshipping others, which is ultimately worshipping yourself.

What is the secret to true love, then? How can I truly love the brethren? How can an introvert experience that holy weariness which comes of loving the People God loves, and of loving our neighbors whom we want to someday, Lord willing, love like brothers and sisters? There's a verse for that.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. (Philippians 2:1-7)

Encouragement in Christ. Participation in the Spirit. Comfort in love. We introverts (and extraverts!) have supernatural aids in loving people. Christ encourages us to look like Him. The Spirit dwells in us to change our beings into godliness. God Himself comforts us in His love. And see another thing that has happened here? We are living for God, not man. We have found our security in Him, not in the praise of people. We don't need others to complete us. We don't need others to worship us. We only need them to worship with us, to be completed alongside us. Yes, indeed, putting second things second really makes the second things shine.

A Girl Reading, by George Cochran Lambdin

So, is people-fearing a problem only for introverts? Nah, extraverts have it, too. They just show it in different ways. But the answer to both manifestations is the same, because it is the same problem: "And He answered, 'You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself'" (Luke 10:26). Interestingly enough, these are the opening lines for the parable of the Good Samaritan. Loving God with everything you are, in such an intensity that you give yourself up to Him, and that alone, allows you to love others, not use them.

Does that mean I am not an introvert anymore? Nah again. I still like books, I still like quiet, I still like writing really long reflective and not so brilliant but very introspective blog posts. In fact, it is good for people to develop the virtue of sitting quietly and thinking about the motives of our actions and how we can look more like Christ. But it is also good to develop the virtue of not just looking at the other mathematicians shoes, but also to look in his face and show Christ's love to him. It is not that I am becoming an extravert to become more godly; it is that I am becoming a more Biblically-minded and Christ-like Jenn. Thoughtful, reflective, sure (any Christian extravert can be that, too). But also bold, and selfless, and communicative, and humble (any Christian introvert can be those things, after all). Honestly, it comes back down to the pure and simple: Becoming a Fair Lady, and becoming more like Christ. ;)

There are of course a bajillion more things I could say on the subject of introversion, but, well, there are better things to be doing. Ahem, please excuse me whilst I go read a book (and don't you ever interrupt me...).

A Receipt for Rice, Dominican Style

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sat, 08 Feb 2014 02:46:00 +0000

Sure, I have not eaten rice in ages, but that does not mean I don't cook it. Indeed I do! For one, there are the facts that my dad hails from the Dominican Republic, Musmie grew up in South America, and my brother is...well, my brother. That equals Rice in just about anyone's books. But then there is my take on the matter; viz., that fruity fragrance of fluffy whiteness simmering away in an old pot with its bent lid, the sounds of the crackling, then the drip drip of the condensed steam pattering atop the grains, the pale little heap of snow-like yumminess crying out for a sauce to cover and protect it. Rice. So sweet.

I suppose years without rice allows one to romanticise a bit, right? Okay, so maybe I like that it cooks up in 20 minutes and you can slap it against basically any thing and call it a complementary side. Romanticism has its practical moments, too.

Still, there is the question of how to cook it. I remember the first time I saw an American family prepare rice. 'Twas shocking. Sand-coloured kernels poured into a bigblackthing (I later discovered this was a "rice cooker" [which always reminds me of "pressure cookers" {which is not a good thing because don't we have enough pressure already?}]) with a lid screwed or heaved or pressed on a metal tub as tight as possible, like something out of B.F. Skinner. Up flipped a switch, on came a bright light, and that was it. No crackles, no pitter-patter, and no innocent whiteness. 'Twas sad.

Don't get me wrong. Since then, I have come to love the earthy, nutty brown texture and flavour of brown rice. But this post shall not be weighing the nutritional or gastronomical pros and cons of brown and white rice. This is simply, and unabashedly, a recipe for white rice, the way I was grown-up to love it.

(In case you were wondering, I have yet to reconcile with the rice cooker. But that's okay, weaker brothers, Christian liberty, and all that jazz. ;))

~ 2-4 Tablespoons cooking fat. Use a good olive oil or lard for this one, the only exception being if you are planning on serving this with an Asian dish, in which coconut oil is allowed. Otherwise, olive oil or lard is your best bet. (I save butter and bacon fat for brown rice ~ oh, so good!)

~ 2 cups white rice, whether Basmati or Jasmine, or Long-Grain. Dad likes Basmati, Musmie likes Jasmine, and my brother likes Long-Grain. Yeah, it's an interesting life.

~ 3 cups water

~ 2-3 teaspoons unrefined sea salt (the Real stuff, ya know).

A grain, an oil, a salt, and some water. You have to appreciate the simplicity of thing.

The first step is to maneuver and wriggle out a medium-sized, wide-and-heavy-bottomed pot with matching lid. Peaceful music might be required, unless you are one of those sane people who keep their most-used pots and pans at the front of their cupboards. *cough*

Then place the pot/pan/thing on a working burner and turn the heat to medium-highish. Spoon in your oil or lard and, while it is heating up, measure out your two cups of rice. Take care not to let your fat burn (smoke). Dash in thy rice and stir the little dearies so that they are well coated in the oil or lard.

See? Dashed and stirred and well-coated wee little white things.

While the rice is having a jolly time sautéing in the pot, measure three cups of water and have it near to hand, poised and ready for just the right moment. That moment will come when the rice grains have transferred from translucent to solid white, and an unmistakably tantalizing smell crescendos in the kitchen. That is when your water must strike.

Solid white. Add the water. Now.

Dousssssssssse! That simmering sound have I always rather relished. Anyway, throw in the salt and give the rice a last quick stir and cover the pot with its lid.
Now, about the lid. My lid, as I have aforementioned, is bent so that there are little spaces between pot and lid where air can escape. This is intentional, and if your lid does not twist and turn as does mine, then you need to leave your pot open a crack. Just knock the lid off-center as if you were upset with your CDO sister. There. Now your rice will have the perfect texture.

Waiting to be bonneted.

The next thing to do is to get going on whatever else it is you are making for supper. Wash the lettuce, check the meat, taste the soup, just don't leave the kitchen and don't stare at the pot. In a few short minutes, you will sense (see steam and hear bubbles) that the rice water has come to a boil. Without opening the lid, turn the heat down to plain old medium. Get back to preparing thine other vittles. Keep your ears sharp.

In ten to fifteen minutes, you will start hearing a drip-snazzz, drip-snazzzz, drip-snazzzzz. I know, best part of the whole evening. The engaging sound you are hearing is the steam of the water hitting the lid and condensing into drops right before it snazzles back onto the hot pan. Now, remove the lid and what should meet your eyes is this:

Air pockets!

There should be little sink holes in your rice. I have no clue why this happens. It just does. If your ear has not yet been accustomed to picking up on the drip-snazzz sequence, simply sequester the pot lid after ten minutes of lowering the heat to medium, and check to see if "soupy rice" has become "air pocket" rice. If you are still in the "soupy rice" stage, just recover the pot and wait another few minutes. (No, it won't kill the rice or the flavour or the texture to uncover the pot before time. It will survive.) Once the rice has reached sink-hole mania, however....

The Well

...It is time to make The Well. Uncover your pot and leave it uncovered for the remainder of this program. Take your cooking spoon (spatula, stick) and push most of the rice to the sides of the pot, leaving a well in the centre with a thin layer of rice at the bottom. This is how one creates that Dominican dainty, con con. Don't ask me about the etymology on that one. Jenn has no idea, and I don't think any Dominican has the faintest, either. Nevertheless, con con is an epicurean delight, and it is the crunchy bit of browned rice located at the bottom of any good Dominican cook's rice pan. One spoons out the regular rice into a serving dish, and then scrape, scrape, scrapes out the con con to serve it on the side. Oh, my, so good. Which is why I am teaching you how to make it.

So, The Well. You made The Well and now you are going to put the heat back onto medium-high and wait for the 3-5 minutes it takes for the skin of rice to become golden and crunchable. Watch the transformation.

See the honey-hued rice at the bottom?

Can you see it now?

And that's con con. Shift all the rice back into its proper place (as in, mess up The Well), and serve the rice and con con with your meal.

An especially edible pot of white fluffiness.

This rice with a vegetable, a meat, and a sauce combine for a scrumptious meal. Enjoy!

Photos again, obviously, by Yours Truly. I really need to do my camera better justice. Ahem.

Taking Courage and Slaying Dragons

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Mon, 03 Feb 2014 17:41:00 +0000

Bleak Midwinter is not so bleak, after all.

And you thought you were through with New Year blog posts. Ha.

Nope, you get to read me break one of my characteristically long silences with an equally characteristically* long missive to the Internet. And it is about the New Year, because this is still a New Year, right?

Now, I am not much for "New Year Resolutions" both because nobody expects to keep New Year Resolutions anymore (did they ever?) and because I don't think we should curtain off serious reflection about the state of our lives to the very early wellsprings of a budding bout of 365 days. But, hey, we should take advantage of any opportunity we get to think hard about the important things of life, even if that opportunity has been trivialised by a culture acclimated to failure. So I am taking it (the opportunity, that is).

I know: way to start the New Year on a positive note. It gets better, though. Honest, it does.

However, instead of fondly telling you all about my take on New Year Resolutions and then listing them out for all the world to see (if I have any), I would rather leave you with a simple thought and theme that might encourage you as you start afresh on an unknowable, exciting, painful, joy-filled, frightening, and stretching new batch of 525,600 minutes.

There. That was a short thought. Shortest blog post of the...entire history of Jenn.

Wait, what? You missed it? Really? You missed it, didn't you...

The thought was encourage. May this year be an encouraging one for you, and may you help it be an encouraging one for others.

*crickets*

Oh, alright. Let me explain, but don't forget that you asked for this!

See? There are little prettinesses in every season!

As I was thinking of some principle that would take all of us, no matter where and what we are doing in life, towards a New Year overflowing with more of Christ, this verse came to mind: “Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the LORD” (Psalm 31:24). In conjunction with this verse, a quote from C.S. Lewis (surprise!) leapt up from my memory’s not-so-distant past, speaking of what courage is and what it means to the Christian: “Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point” (Screwtape Letter #29).

I love how beautifully this quote fits into the verse from Psalms. Hoping in the Lord leads to courage as that very same Lord, our mighty God, strengthens our hearts! And it works etymologically, too, for the word “encourage” comes from the idea of “taking” or “making” or “putting in” heart. For the Christian, taking courage simply means taking on the heart of God. Being encouraged implies that we as Sons and Daughters are putting on His ways, His will, His loves and His hates, His heart. And that is why courage is every virtue at the testing point. If we are truly adopting the heart (coeur) of God, if He is making us be more and more like Christ, then the coeur-age to act more and more like Christ will naturally follow. He gives us His heart. We act on it. He gives us His courage. We act in it.

See how taking courage is so very closely connected with sanctification, with having God make us look more like Himself? We know that sanctification comes by the Word of God, by Christ and by the Holy Spirit working through Scripture. Not surprisingly, then, sprinkling the Bible are plenty of verses directly linking the idea of “encourage” with the idea of the Word, doctrine, and Christlikeness. Here are a few of them:

~Titus 1:9 “He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it.” If you look in different versions, you will see that the phrase “give instruction” has also been translated as “encourage”. A leader of the church and any Christian, really, must work towards the skill of encouraging fellow believers in doctrine. And since Scripture’s truths are what encourage us as followers of Christ, should we not be daily returning to the Bible if we long for encouragement during this year of 2014? If we hope to be that encourager to our brothers and sisters as the new twelvemonth unfolds?

~Hebrews 3:13 “But encourage one another day after day, as long as it is still called "Today," so that none of you will be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” Other versions translate the word “encourage” as “exhort”. This exhort/encourage exchange takes places a few times in the New Testament, and I find that concept so very powerful. In the face of sin and temptation, what encourages our hearts is the exhortation of the Word. Courage is every virtue, righteousness, at the testing point, and that stalwartness before the deceitfulness of sin can only come from God Himself. Do you want to be encouraged and encourage others? Have the heart of Christ formed in you by living in His word, and you will be able to withstand both the wiles of the Enemy and the wickedness of the flesh. That way, the gritted teeth of “I will, I will, I will do the right thing” will melt into the meek smile of “I love, I love, I love doing the right thing.”

Silvery sylvan style

~2 Timothy 4:2 “Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine.” There is that exhort/encourage word again. These are commands for the believer to be ready at all times, like having courage to face the dragon. It is courage, it is bathing in the word, it is knowing God, that will gift you the courage to live the Christian life.

~2 Thessalonians 2:17 “Comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.” Here lies a glimpse into another facet of taking courage. The word comfort here is the “encourage” word in which we are interested for this blog post. Yes, courage is not merely a selfish bravado. Courage for the Christian, for the man who puts on the heart of God, means to share that courage. Sharing Christlikeness by showing Christlikeness (“establish them in every good work and word”) comforts the hearts of believing soldiers around us. The church is, after all, akin to an army, wise as serpents and gentle as doves, fighting the kingdom of darkness inside us and surrounding us. Of course, we fight not in our strength. We walk in Christ’s light and life and love and truth. So does it not make sense that what would comfort our souls and encourage our hearts is that very light and love and truth? Seize the word this year, and you will be comforted, to then comfort others.

~1 Thessalonians 5:14 “And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all.” The Bible urges us, brothers, to encourage, to comfort, to exhort. To know God by knowing His word. To pursue the best, which is being conformed to the image of Christ His Son.

And this idea, this notion of courage equalling conforming to Christ, brings on yet another quote, which will help us end on a zinger for the New Year. G.K. Chesterton once wrote that “courage is almost a contradiction in terms. It means a strong desire to live taking the form of a readiness to die” (Orthodoxy, Chapter 6). Does that remind you of something? Christ showed the ultimate courage. He conquered at the testing point of the testing point of righteousness. He was the lamb led to the butcher’s block in order that life might be made possible for so many. And that is courage. He is the example of the champion, the knight, the supreme slayer of dragons. Why not follow Him? Why not take on His heart? Why not be encouraged? May this year be one in which you seek His courage, my friend, and spread it wherever you go.

*What is an adverb of an adverb called anyway? Or are those not supposed to exist? Whatever; go diagram some sentences.

New Year photos taken by Yours Truly. Sorry, I am still about ten notches below presumptuous amateur photographer. Working on it!

Grace: A First Glimpse

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sat, 16 Nov 2013 15:58:00 +0000

Yay for Bing's Photos, if nothing else.

Something about grace simply bothers a man. This undeserved gift from God is awesome and beautiful and we sing about it at church on Sundays, but so often we forget about it or question its effects. Is grace really real in me? When do I use it? How do I use it? What if I am not strong enough to use it wisely?

The first question I cannot answer for you, but the fact remains that grace is very real, and if it is real in you then consequences will follow.

Nonetheless, I will monologue about the other questions. Now, I know it is rather strange to see grace worded as though it were a weapon or magic ring we use at our bidding, but, let us be honest here, is that not the way many of us Christians treat grace in our daily living?

We have all heard it before: Grace is a gift from God bestowed upon undeserving sinners so that they won't die like they are supposed to, but have eternal life. Dowdy denotation, to be sure.
What follows when someone receives that grace, however, is uncertain; after all, we have been told that God's grace saves us from Hell and "allows us to enter His Heaven." This is a stunning truth, of course, but sometimes it feels as though grace were left with a "now what?" expression scribbled across its face. So, you were saved, you wretch, and are you not glad? You are no longer counted as a sinner is God's eyes, therefore...go rejoicing and skipping in golden, dew-bedangled fields! ...Maybe? And then a throng of excited ten-year-long believers rush around New Christian with their deepest congratulations for becoming a believer, too, all the while impressing upon him that he had now better behave like one, that he had better be good.

Sure, this is an exaggerated case, and while I do not deny that this very scenario has been played out in quaint churches all across America, I neither intimate that it is common. Still, do you not think it is common for many of us, Reformed or not, to practically live as though grace stopped at salvation? That we embrace a sort of deistic sanctification? Yep, the ayes have it.

We praise God for saving grace, and have little to no clue what happens to it after that.

But grace is so much more than God sending His only begotten Son to die. See, we do not need grace just for God to wash our sins away; we need grace to be able to do even one little thing well. I think we are often confused about grace now because we do not realise that God's grace is not just forgiving. It is enabling. Becoming a Christian is not simply about being cleansed, but about allowing us to do and be ~ to live ~ something righteous. To a self-righteous law-lover like yours truly this is disconcerting, for it means that all our post-Christian "good" works are not good because of you or I, but because of Him. Grace kind of messes things up for Pharisees, and that messing up goes deeper than just being eternally saved. It goes into being momentarily good. Yes, grace reaches beyond the cross. Grace is for the good girl.

Definitely, this never-ending, presently-practical grace unsettled me at first, but once I began to think about it, how beautiful and solidifying and comforting did it become! That I sincerely, frightfully, awfully need grace to be sweet for an hour, to speak a kind word for a minute, to think a clean thought for a second, and that God has supplied that grace to me! All those "good things" we do once we are saved? Yeah, that was grace, too. It sure topples self-righteousness, but, then, I would rather have Christ than me. So, perhaps grace would be less confusing, seem less intangible, if we as a group of Christian young men and women would accept that we hopelessly need grace to be good even now, and that God is constantly showering that sanctifying, enabling grace on we who are His own. It is not about waving a magic wand whenever we think we need a dose of grace. Grace is divine, out of our control, and lavished on us all the time, or we'd go right back to being dead in our trespasses and sins. Consequently, besides singing about the grace that brought Christ to die, we need to celebrate the grace that lets Him live today, interceding and covering for us ~ the same grace that lets His Holy Spirit abide in us so that our works are not counted as filthy rags, but divinely pure robes. See, grace is not only for the good girl, it makes the good girl.

So, no, grace is not a magic ring or sword that we wield whenever we are trying to be good or trying to forget we are bad. That's still living by works. No, grace destroys the magic ring along with the suicidal sword, and instead gives us life. A life that is free, free, free! because God's gift of grace includes the making of a righteous soul.

Hold up, though! Anyone feeling queasy again? Anyone doing the Romans 6:15 squeam?* Yeah, I understand. Living by grace feels like someone took the rails off the railroad and left the train running at full speed to who knows where but no place good. I understand, really. But that is to see grace as license, not love. Remember what we said? Grace makes the good girl. Living by grace is more like chucking the train and buying a really really safe version of one of these babies. Grace may be scary, but it is safer, stronger, and ~ even better than a maglev system ~ it carries God's seal for operation and completion.

The railroad tracks of the law are, in all honesty, only as strong as you are. And you are pretty weak, if I do say so myself. Grace, however, is borne of a love that is as strong as the Lover, the Almighty Himself. His Love for His glory, His love for His name, His love for His Son, His love for you, and your Grace-bestowed love for Him are all in your favor. A person who is truly living by grace cannot help but be drawn to the ultimate Attractor, like a magnet is drawn to the loadstone rock. God is casting away the self-will of a stony heart and giving you the Godwill of a fleshy heart invaded by His Spirit. It is like staying married because you want to, not because you have to. Forced marriages find loopholes. Loving marriages only grow stronger.

Thus, nothing is more secure than grace. We will slip, but we are saints. We have old habits, but we are being made new. We are not yet perfect, but we are being perfected. "What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Romans 8:31). In short, living by law is betting on yourself. Living by grace is betting on God. Since I don't like risks, I am going to bet on God, on a divine love that inspires divine obedience. Sure, it means giving up on me completely, for salvation, for present goodness, for future perfection; but, hey, to live is Christ. And so, we can sing in praise for God's grace at all times, in unison with the Bride of the Song of all Songs:

"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm,
For love is strong as death, jealousy is fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire, the very flame of the Lord.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it.
If a man offered for love all the wealth of his house,
He would be utterly despised....
Make haste, my Beloved, and be like a gazelle
Or a young stag on the mountains of spices."

Love is stronger than death, and floods cannot stop it.
"The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ," (1 Corinthians 15:56-57).

*So what, I nouned an adjective. Sue me.

One About Marriage

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Sun, 03 Nov 2013 01:32:00 +0000

It has recently come to my attention that most every Christian girl blog offers a post in which the girl blogger writes about marriage, whether to vent or to lecture or to rationalise or to struggle or to conquer, or anything else, really. As long as she sermonises about marriage, the post counts. The only exception to the rule, that I have come across, at least, is if Girl Blogger is far more interested in showcasing her pictures of cupcakes and pies and roast squash than in logging her thoughts about life (but nonetheless, some said Cupcake Blogger Girls cannot seem to escape that one marriage post, even then).

Before you think this is a mere diatribe against such posts (I bet I could do a pretty good diatribe, though ;) ), let me announce that I am about to cross The Marriage Post off this girl's Blogger Bucket List.

Yep, this is me writing about marriage. And singleness. And all that good stuff.

And in good Jenn fashion, it will probably end up looking like a rant. Sigh. (Hey, I am not married, so aren't you glad I didn't choose to lecture?) And now, without further ado....

In the Christian Marriage world of young people today, after reading through reams and reams of words dedicated to this touchy topic, one would think that Christians fall into one of two camps in the apparent struggle over how marriage fits into Christianity ('cause, yeah, we have to admit that this struggle pervades a lot of modern Christian societal dialogue ~ and the struggle ain't new, either):

There are the Christians who openly support marriage, and, what is more, openly support getting married and getting married young (aka now or the next two years). There are varying levels within this "let's get married" camp, ranging anywhere from the "Martin Luther raids monastery and weds ex-nun" (epic story, really) to your Average Joe Preacher who is working through Genesis 2:21 this Sunday morning. God created man and women to glorify God together. God commands us to be fruitful and multiply. Marriage sanctifies. Or even, God has a soul mate hand-picked for you somewhere. Your other half waits; wait for him/her until you find him/her (or, for some of us, until God brings him/her to you). There are a lot of good people who are part of this camp.
Then there are the Christians who start off with something along the lines of "I am all for Godly marriage, but...." This writer is often a young person who five years ago expected she would be hitched in five years. But she wasn’t, and now she has to deal with it. Marriage is a gift that is not for everyone. Marriage is not the end and the beginning of all things; birth and rebirth are. I have Christ - what/who else do I need? Or even, Jesus is my boyfriend. He fills all my desires so I can live a rocking full life. Again, there are a lot of good people who are part of this camp.

Am I on your nerves yet? Don't worry; there's more.

Honestly, I am grown weary of the polite and subtle fighting between these two camps, and so I would like to bring up a few points to see if we can get anywhere better than the regular "I grew up in Camp X and am sick of hearing Camp X all the time and am concerned that Camp X is damaging the Church, so I am going to swing over to the completely opposite side” story. In short, Jenn hopes to move away from reactionary writing, step back, and take a good look at what is going on in our hearts.

The first point is about Context and "the Church." Both people from Camps 1 and 2 generally end up saying something like, "The Church is not helping by...(fill in the blank)," and they get all holily worried about how the Church is leading us poor young lads and lassies astray. Either the Church pushes people off into marriage like a flock of so many unsuspecting sheep, or the Church is not encouraging marriage at all. The reactions of second-generation Camp 1 or 2-ers always come from their context. Well, please remember that whatever problems you see in your local and/or ideological Christian community are by no means characteristic of every Christian community.

For example, I know of someone whose local church one year invited a guest speaker to talk to the youth about marriage. He was for young marriage and, on top of a Biblical exposition on why marriage is good, he also used the argument that people who marry young get to look forward to a night of "holy sex" instead of being stuck playing video games in a basement. The next youth conference, however, the very same church invited another guest speaker to talk about marriage. He went through the Bible showing how marriage is a big step and it is important that young people spend years maturing in Christ before they even think about being glued to another soul who has another host of problems, because you don't want immaturity ruining your marriage before it even gets started. Recipe for a slightly crazed and confused youth group? I think so. But see how these different camps are not limited to one set of Christians (for example, I think it is unfair and incorrect to equate the Homeschooling movement with Camp 1)? I have had different respected Reformed pastors tell me both, "Jenn, make sure you are preparing for a good marriage now. That is how you will win the world," and "Jenn, hold off on marriage until you are ready to settle down and give yourself up to a husband. Take as long as you can doing what you alone can do for God's kingdom."

Obviously, neither the church nor even a given denomination (nor even vaguer groups like "Homeschooling Families") are united in their problems and concerns regarding marriage. Let's not be silly and blame "the Church" or be petty and blame "Homeschoolers" or be biased and blame "Modern Youth Culture" for problems manifest in your circle of friends. Most of the time, the window we have into the universal church is very small, and thus our basis for reaction is likewise limited. Are there Christian girls who foster unrealistic expectations about marriage? Yep. Are there Christian parents who set their kids up for disappointment and disillusionment when it comes to preparing for and getting married? Oh, yes. Are there lazy and controlling young Christians who will come up with any excuse to put off (until further notice) the fetters that marriage would put on their selfish or workaholic lifestyles? You bet. Are there Christian parents who discourage their kids from marrying because they want those kids to prosper financially before locking into family payments? There are too many of these parents. Yes, just as many churches demean marriage as idolise it. Maybe we would do better to admit and address only that which we know, or, better, admit and try to know what other believers are thinking on whatever subject you are addressing. Make sure you aren't reacting from a bubble.

The second point is this whole notion of Marriage versus Singleness in the first place. Seriously? Who ever said our identity was our marital status, and that we have control over what that status is? In 20 years, a lot of the people who are currently married are going to be single and a lot of the people who are single are going to be married. Believe me. God is huge and can change your world in a year or a day. The idea that marriage or singleness is a choice you can make, a door you can close or open, strikes me as very odd and rather conceited. It is like thinking you actually have real control (for more or less) over the number of babies you have. God will do whatever it takes to make us as believers look more like His Son. That means that a 50-year-old woman is never a confirmed spinster and a 20-year-old bride might not die with her husband at her side. Our earthly marital status is not forever: in Heaven there will be no giving in marriage and in Heaven we as a Church will be married to Christ. There can't be a proper Married versus Single struggle because there aren't proper sides. All you know about the future is that God will be faithful in conforming you to Christ-likeness, whatever circumstance(s) it requires.

Perhaps if Christians would truly see that a believer can become more like Christ (be sanctified) just as effectively inside marriage as outside of it, and that God is writing each of His children's life stories in such a way that they would best grow into holiness and help others do the same, then we would stop this clandestine holier-than-thou attitude that exists on both sides of the marriage war.

Because the whole point of life as a Christian (and the third point of this post) is to...you know it by now...become more like Christ with each passing day. Both as we grow as individuals submitting to Christ and as labourers of grace in expanding His Kingdom. That is all that matters for me and for you if you are God's child. Truly, we should be thrilled to see the likeness of our Saviour blossom in a fellow believer, whether God is using marriage or singleness to increase Christ in that person's life.

Now, I think that God has called the vast majority of people to marriage as one of His tools to achieve Christ-likeness in His followers. I think that God loves a Christian marriage which reflects His good news of a groom winning his bride. I think that He has placed in most of us a desire to be married so we might preach the Gospel as couples and give birth to children who will at least see that Gospel lived out in their homes. And I think this desire for marriage is okay, even good, and that this desired marriage ought to be prepared for. (About that, though, I also think that anyone who is striving to become more like the Lord is, in all the most important senses, being prepared for marriage. Even if you don't know how to cook.) But guess what? I have no clue and you have no clue if we are going to get married, and we need to be certain in knowing that we are complete in Christ regardless of marriage. Paul was single, folks, and God used Paul in astounding ways. See, our lives here on earth are so so so so not about our wedding days. If this ruffles any of y'all's feathers, too bad. I am just talking Bible-speak.

In conclusion.

For the married: Marriage is a beautiful and God-given thing. It is blessed by Him and He asks it of most us. Marriage represents the Gospel story in a unique and stunning way, reflecting the entire story of the Bible. The Bible begins and ends with marriage. You have a special and God-given opportunity to make little disciples of Christ (according to His will) as you train up your children in the way he should go, which single people do not have. You have been placed in a glorious situation for becoming more like Christ as you learn to live out the Gospel intimately attached to another, sacrificing and submitting as do Christ and the Church. Make sure you find your soul's satisfaction in Christ alone and not in your spouse, for you have a relationship with Christ apart from your wedded state. And you know what? Your marriage isn't going to last forever.

For the single: Singleness is a beautiful and God-given thing. It is blessed by Him in the few times He asks it of us. Singleness demonstrates the life-transforming relationship each of us as believers has with Christ, and the sufficiency of that relationship to let us live joyful, fruitful lives. You have a special and God-given opportunity to make disciples of Christ for you have the freedom and ability to go places and do things and spend the time with people that many families do not have. God has placed you in a glorious situation for becoming more like Christ as you learn to rely on Him alone for all your needs and come to a sweet knowledge of all He is and has done for you, and all He is again. Make sure you realise that you don't have to choose between marriage and Christ. And you know what? Your singleness isn't going to last forever.

So, whether you are married, single, unmarried, remarried, or pink and purple all over, embrace the fact that to live is Christ, not wedding cake.

On Crutches, or, A Vindication of Real Life

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Wed, 23 Oct 2013 20:19:00 +0000

Over the past month, the two major crutches of my recent life have suddenly been thrust out from under me, and I have found myself standing uncomfortably alone. Truly, the removal of these crutches are really an occasion for celebration but, I must admit, you my blog readers are more oft to see the reflections that follow my celebrations. This is one of those more often than not instances (which is not to say I have not done my share of celebrating).

The first crutch to kick the bucket list was GAPS. I thoroughly enjoyed being on it, and it genuinely helped make me well. In fact, if I could come up with an excuse to stay on the diet, believe me, I would; but the fact is that my body has kicked into all high functioning gears, and I am ready to get on with improved health. There is simply no means left to justify my staying on the diet.
Now, if you know me well, you might understand why my fledgling legs feel a wee bit woozy. After all, three years of this plus two years of this could well nigh turn anyone's suddenly-free food life into a roller coaster ride without the rollers coaster rails. It could feel like free fall. Restrictions were my safety net for not getting fat, not losing discipline, not growing up into a hoodlum, and not doing a host of similar silly "not"ables. But this crutch has been duly kicked.

The second crutch to meet its forkless fork in the road was college. Although I "graduated" in April and finished classes in July (neither of which markers I saw fit to blog about ~ cue facesmack), it was only in recent weeks that all that bothersome paperwork filled itself out. Again, although definitely a huge cause for merrymaking, this development has left this girl rather weak in the knees. You see, college was something to do, or, more importantly, something I could tell others I do. Just as it seems that every good woman is on some diet plan, it seems that every good girl is on money-producing or credit-crunching schedule, and it ought to be some sort of program that can, in a very few seconds, satisfactorily answer the ever-vague but ever-present "What are you up to?" question. College used to be my smart-sounding, accredited answer, but, alas, that crutch has sailed...or floated ~ you get the drift.

So this is me sorting through my crutchless existence and vindicating Real Life instead.

First, on Real Life: it has been short-changed for "stuff." Instead of measuring our days by the life we live, we ~ or at least I ~ tend to measure our days by the things we do, the places we go, the lists we cross, the trophies we gain, the money we earn.... In short, the stuff we accomplish. Again, at least for me, life is so much more easily viewed in what I did and what I can say I do. But giving up college has rather smacked me in the face with this sorry reality. Now there is nothing particular for me to tell that others I do, and it is up to my personal integrity in Christ to make sure I am doing something worthwhile, even if that something is not expressible in a twenty-second sound bite. As I was fumbling through all these thoughts in my head, my ever wise brother mentioned that I needed to learn something: Real, Rich Life is not composed of crossed off lists of stuff, but the simple things God does through us with others as we grow into better vessels of His grace. "And, Jenn, most of the times the things God will call you to do as a wife, mother, daughter, sister will be things nobody sees." How true! And how humbling. Keeping a house clean, sharing warm meals, having the time and sanity to offer someone love, counselling a brother (and, obviously, being counselled by him), helping out a friend ~ these are the stuff of Real Life, so often neglected because never worth the telling.

Living Real Life does not have to involve a high-paying job or a ministry ready to go on the back of a book cover or even attaining perfect health. Living Real Life simply involves living, and living well (see 1 Peter 1:3-9, below).

Now I am not saying we should not work and be lazy and just take in "life" as "life" sweeps us along. Proverbs 21 is quite clear in that respect: "The desire of the sluggard kills him, for his hands refuse to labor. All day long he craves and craves..." (verses 25-26). But are our works the sum total of our lives, or is His Life the reason for our working? Basically, are we living by grace? If Real Life is passing me by as an offering on the altar of "stuff," then mayhaps I am not.

It was so easy to rely on my crutches of stuff ~ college and diet restrictions (although very good and beneficial things in their own right)~ as an alternative to grace, as insurance against my provenly unsteady gait. But, the problem is, crutches are for cripples.

And Christians are anything but crippled. We do not need a Crutch because we have Christ, the Christ who is our life and our righteousness. Remember Proverbs 21? The rest of verse 26 offers the contrast, "but the righteous gives and does not hold back." Even better, this righteous giving finds its foundation in verse 21. "Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life, righteousness, and honour." Whoever pursues righteousness (and we know may only find righteousness in Christ) will find life, Real Life. It's all about grace.

Here's to grace, then, which has the lovely quality of being portable, flexible, innovative, and always applicable. So whether you are working an intense job, rendering the kitchen deliciously fragrant, or reading that classic you've always wanted to eat in one sitting, Christ's grace, as a Christian, ought to go before you.

For this is the stuff of a gracious, hopeful, crutchless Life:"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith-more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire-may be found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls."~1 Peter 1:3-9

Christ's Righteousness in Our Stead

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Mon, 21 Oct 2013 18:33:00 +0000

Today's post is a guest post, written by one of my quickly-growing-closer friends, Robert Traill. Of course, it would be that Jenn's friend has been dead for 300 years, but that is of no matter in regards to the sweet truth he speaks. This is the third sermon in a series of six on Galatians 2:21 which has truly blessed and refreshed this girl's heart over the past week. I would give it a better introduction, but it speaks for itself, I assure you.

Do Not Seek Righteousness by the Law

“I do not frustrate the grace of God: for if righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain.” ~Gal. 2:21.

When I first entered on these words, I told you what the scope of the apostle was in this epistle: he is here brining forth arguments against that error that the Galatian churches were plagued with; and arguments for that truth of the gospel that he had planted amongst them, and taught them. The truth was this, That the righteousness of a sinner for justification was only in Christ. The error of the Galatians lay in this, That something of the righteousness of the law was to be mixed therewith. My text contains two arguments against this error, drawn from a common natural head of arguing against error, by the absurdities that necessarily flow from it. Now there are two grand absurdities that flow from this doctrine of the law in point of justification, 1st, That it frustrates the grace of God; 2dly, That it makes Christ’s death to be in vain: and two more abominable things cannot be well thought of; and people have great need to fear, and to take heed of any doctrine that hath any tendency to either of them. The first of these the apostle expresses in his own person: “I do not frustrate the grace of God.” And here he speaks as a believer, and not as a minister nor an apostle; so he discourses from ver. 16, speaking of himself and the rest of the godly, like ordinary believers, that betook themselves to this way of relief by Christ’s righteousness alone. I propose four observations to speak to.

1st, That the grace of God shines gloriously in the justifying of a sinner through the righteousness of Christ: and this I have spoke to.

2dly, That frustrating the grace of God is a great and horrible sin; for so it is expressed by the apostle, “I do not frustrate the grace of God.” As if he should have said, “B1essed be God, I am not in that road; I am not one that frustrates the grace of God; I am saved by it.” How the grace of God is frustrated, and how great the sin is, I spoke to the last day. The revelation of the grace of God, and the tender of it, and the urging of it, may be frustrated, and is, by many: but the grace itself, in its powerful conveyance by the Holy Ghost on the hearts of men, always reaches its end. The grace of God is irresistible in its thorough powerful application: this I also spoke to; and would only add a word or two further about the greatness of this sin of seeking righteousness by the law, and thereby frustrating the grace of God.

1. This is a sin that but few in the world can commit. The greatest part of them that go to hell cannot commit this sin; they never frustrated the grace of God. Indeed all that are finally guilty of it go to hell; but all that go to hell are not guilty of this sin. The greatest part of the world never frustrated the grace of God, for they never heard of it; and, therefore, our Lord pronounces a woe against Capernaum, against Chorazin and Bethsaida, and tells them that they were in a worse case than Sodom and Gomorrah, than Tyre and Sidon, (Matt. 11:21), because the grace of God was never offered them as it was to the others. Sirs, let me tell you, the worst quarters in hell are for those persons that are nearest to Christ, and yet not in him by faith: of all sinners such drop deepest into the pit.

2. The devils are not guilty of this sin. There is not a devil in hell, nor out of it, that is so guilty of this sin of frustrating the grace of God, as thousands of professors in London are. The devils are haters of the grace of God; but the grace of God was never tendered to them: they only hate the grace of God as it is tendered to men, and envy it; but the grace of God was never offered to the devils. The way of preserving the holy angels, and the way of justice to the damned spirits, proclaim greatly the wonderful privilege that we have in the gospel. The holy angels are kept, and they received grace, for the election of grace fell on them: they are called the elect angels. When that great apostasy was in the upper house, all the reprobate angels fell of their own accord, and all the elect angels stood: and that election of grace towards angels ran through Jesus Christ, who was to be their preserving head. There is something that looks like this in the word of God.
But recovering grace to angels was never given; the angels that stood had preserving grace given them, to keep them in their first station; but the angels that fell had no recovering grace given them, “Christ took not on him,” saith the apostle, “the nature of angels, but was born of the seed of Abraham.” And thence it came to pass, that the devils themselves are not guilty of this sin of frustrating the grace of God. Surely then people had need to take great heed that they be not guilty of a worse sin than that which the devils can commit. There is no creature that hath frustrated the grace of God, but that creature that hath the offer of the grace of God.

3. Frustrating the grace of God is a sin that none that are in hell are guilty of. All that are finally guilty of it on earth are sent to hell, but none that are in hell are guilty of it; for when once that last sentence is executed upon them, the door of grace and mercy is for ever shut upon them. So that it is the gospel-sinner only who can frustrate the grace of God, who is guilty of that sin; and that but a small part of the world are guilty of it; that the devils in hell are not guilty of it, that all the damned in hell are not guilty of it, though they rage, and roar, and blaspheme; and ail sorts of wickedness we may well conclude to be in their miserable state: but frustrating the grace of God is a sin not to be found in hell, because grace enters not there. So much shall serve for this second point of doctrine, That it is a horrible sin to frustrate the grace of God. I come now to speak to the next doctrine.

3dly, To seek righteousness by the works of the law, is to frustrate the grace of God: for this is the scope of the apostle’s argument. It is to shew that there is no righteousness to be had by the law; and this is one argument that he proves it by, “I do not,” saith he, “frustrate the grace of God.” It is, as if he should have said, “If I sought righteousness by the works of the law, I should frustrate the grace of God; but I do not seek righteousness by the law, for I am dead to the law, and therefore I do not frustrate the grace of God.” There are two things under this doctrine that I would speak to — 1st, What is it to seek righteousness by the law? 2dly, How doth it appear that seeking righteousness by the works of the law is frustrating the grace of God? For they that are guilty of this sin of seeking righteousness by the works of the law, they are very loath to take in this, that they frustrate the grace of God: they will say, that they give all respect to the grace Of God; even the self-righteous Pharisee could claim to have the grace of God, (Luke 18:11), “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men;” “I thank God, that I am so good as I am;” when he was a poor, vain, self-conceited man all the while.

1. What is it to seek righteousness by the works of the law? By law here I mean the holy spotless law of God. The law of man hath nothing to do in the point of righteousness before God. This seeking of righteousness by the law is righteousness in God’s sight; the apostle states the matter so. No man is justified by the law in the sight of God. That a man is justified by the law in the sight of men, nobody can deny. We should be very careful to justify ourselves in the sight of men by the law, and our conformity to it; but this righteousness here spoken of is righteousness in the sight of God, and righteousness by the law of God; and it stands in three things.

1st, Righteousness by the law is that which obtains a man’s acceptance with God. That is righteousness by the law that procures a man’s acceptance with God; upon the account of which he stands before God as a righteous man, and is dealt with accordingly. Now, he that seeks righteousness by the law in this sense, is one who dreams, that by doing and obeying what the law requires, he may work out that for which he may stand righteous and accepted in God’s sight. And that is one way this sin is committed.

2dly, In this righteousness before God by the works of the law, there is an expectation of impunity for all that is past in transgressing the law. And we find that this must necessarily be the righteousness of a holy man, who stands in a state of acceptance with God; but the righteousness of a man who hath been once a sinner must be by having that which may bring him into a state of impunity and safety of all the transgressions that he hath been guilty of before. Now, men are guilty of seeking righteousness by the works of the law this second way, when they do, or think to do, that for which God will forgive all their transgressions, and forget all that they have done: and of this the Pharisee made no question: though he was a sinner, yet he comes and prays, and expects acceptation in God’s sight, and the forgiveness of his sins, upon the account of the good that he had done.

3dly, In this righteousness by the works of the law there is a title to eternal life. He that, by what he doth, expects to have a right conferred upon him to eternal life, is a man that seeks righteousness by the law: “Good Master, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?” said the poor young legalist, (Matt. 19:16). I would gladly have eternal life, and would gladly have a right to it: Master, tell me what good thing shall I do to get it. These are the three ways by which men seek righteousness by the law:—To do that whereby a man may obtain acceptance before God: To do that for which he may obtain pardon and impunity from God: To do that for which he may have a right conferred on him to eternal life. But, you will say, this is so gross Popery, that there is no Protestant guilty of it. Alas! alas! every natural man is guilty of it; and it is only the almighty power of the Spirit of God that can erase it out of their hearts. I will offer you some plain proofs of this.

1. How many are there, when their hearts are examined, must acknowledge that their eyes are altogether on the precepts of the law, and not a thought on the promises of the gospel? How many poor creatures are there that begin to be thoughtful about their salvation, insomuch that they make people that are about them, who are ignorant and charitable, think that they are hopeful Christians. But try these people this way, and you will find that all the exercise of their religion is about the precepts of the law, and they have no exercise at all about the promises of the gospel, he that minds only the precepts, is only a doer; and he that minds not the promise, he is no believer: for the precept is the rule of practice; but it is the promise that is the foundation of faith. Now, how can that man be reckoned a believer, that hath no heart-exercise about the promises?

2. A great many people are mightily taken up about their own works, and but very little about Christ’s. Our righteousness doth not stand in our own works; but stands in Christ’s works, what Christ did, and suffered for us in his life, and death, and resurrection; therein stands our righteousness. Now, how many poor creatures are there that reckon it a great matter, and glory mightily in their own doings: if they pray, and hear, and read, and can but make any sort of reformation in their conversation, how big do these things appear in their eyes! But Christ’s life and death, and all his great performances for our salvation, are mean and low, and of small esteem with them. And do not these sort of people seek righteousness by the law? Aye surely.

3. They look for eternal life, but they look for it as a reward of works, and not as an inheritance given by gift and grace; and all servants and slaves must do so, and all natural men are slaves, they are children of the bondwoman, (Gal. 4:31); they work for fear of punishment, and in hopes of the crown: they work for wages; the wages they love, and would have, but the work they hate. Whereas the believer acts just the contrary; he loves the work, and he expects the wages as the gift of grace from the blessed Father he serves. The apostle makes a great distinction between these two; “Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son, and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ, (Gal. 4:7). Every man that is for righteousness by the works of the law is a servant; he looks upon God as his master, and the law as his master’s will, and he sets about obeying with all his might. Now, is not this a good servant? Yes. But all such servants go to hell: you must be children, for none but children are saved. And, indeed, there are none true servants to him, but they that are children: they are but slaves, and are cast out, that do not serve with their love, and expect the inheritance only as a gift of grace. So much for that first thing, What it is to seek righteousness by the works of the law.

2. I am now to shew you, that seeking righteousness by the works of the law, is to frustrate the grace of God: and I would shew it — first in point of doctrine — and then in point of practice.1st, As to point of doctrine. In the matter of righteousness before God, the law and the gospel are perfectly opposite, and they are only so in this point. The law and the gospel agree sweetly together in all things else; but in this point of the righteousness of a man before God, the law and the gospel are quite opposite one to another. The gospel comes to bring in another salvation than the law thought of; and the law destroys the salvation of the gospel. The law and gospel, in point of righteousness before God, are exactly opposite; “And if by grace, then it is no more by works, otherwise grace is no more grace; but if it be of works, then it is no more of grace, for otherwise works were no more works,” (Rom. 11:6). Grace and works, in the point of righteousness before God, are perfectly opposite; “You are saved by grace,” saith the apostle, “not of works, lest any man should boast,” (Eph. 2:8, 9).2dly, Let us bring this matter into practice, and you will find that all men express this in their attitude; both the self-righteous man, and he that is not so. Not only is it asserted in point of doctrine, that works and grace are thus inconsistent, but we always find it, even in the spirit and temper, both of the one and of the other.

1. He that seeks righteousness by the law, is a man that never saw his need of grace: and you may be well assured that that man will frustrate the grace of God, who never saw his utter need of it. He was never so far emptied, but he expects and imagines that he shall be able to work out a righteousness for himself, and so is not brought under any conviction of his utter need of the grace of God; whereas he that is for the grace of God in Christ alone, is a man that hath a great need of the grace of God, and sees himself undone without it.

2. This self-righteous man sees no glory in the grace of God shining through the righteousness of Christ; there is no excellency in it to him. Every natural man is in this mind; he sees a great deal of glory in his own doings: in a beautiful conversation, in brave gifts, and in a shining walk before men; he sees a great deal of beauty and glory here. Every natural man thinks there is a great deal of glory in his own performances. The self-righteous Pharisee came boasting in his own performances; “God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican: I fast twice a week, and I give tithes of all that I possess,” (Luke 18:11, 12). These were great things in the man’s esteem, and so they are in the eyes of every natural man. But for that righteousness that is lodged in Christ, that is wrought out by a man without him, by one that came down from heaven, and is gone up thither again; that hath all this righteousness seated in him, and gives it forth to us by mere grace; no natural man thinks any thing of this. But the believer is a man that hath an high esteem of the righteousness of Christ. How doth the apostle Paul speak of this? “I count all things but dung, that I may win Christ; and be found in him, not having on mine own righteousness,” (Phil. 3:8, 9).

3. Every natural man is averse from the grace of God, and therefore he must needs frustrate the grace of God. He is averse from it: but every believer is just of another mind. Sirs, if all men’s hearts were known to us, as they are to God, here is one thing that would determine every man’s state, What way do you best like to go to heaven in? “I would gladly be very holy,” saith the poor man, “that I may be very happy when I die.” Saith the believer, “I would gladly be clothed with Christ’s righteousness, and get eternal life as the gift of his grace; and I know that by being in Christ I shall be sanctified.” But no believer seeks sanctification as his righteousness, and title to glory: it is a preparation for glory, and the way that leads to glory, to all them that are saved according to that blessed method, “Whom he justified, them he also glorified,” (Rom. 8:30); and by glorification there, both sanctification and eternal life are well understood by most. — So much for the third doctrine, That seeking righteousness by the works of the law frustrates the grace of God.

I would now speak a few words to the fourth doctrine, and then make some application of both together.

Doctrine 4. No true believer in Jesus Christ can frustrate the grace of God. The apostle is here speaking of it in the account that he is giving of the grace of God working in him: “I through the law,” saith he, “am dead to the law, that I might live to God;” and “I live by Christ, and by faith in him, and, therefore, I do not frustrate the grace of God.” He is not speaking of the great attainment that some few Christians arrive at; but he is speaking of that which is common to the state of all Christians: “I do not frustrate the grace of God.” Before I come to the proof of this, I would lay down a few cautions, to prevent mistakes.

1st, It must be allowed that a great many who have been made Christians have been long enemies to the grace of God; and there is not a greater instance of this than the good man that speaks in my text, the apostle Paul. He was a great heart-enemy to Jesus Christ; and he was an enemy to Christ, if I may so say, with a good conscience, according to the real light that the poor man’s blinded conscience had: “I verily thought with myself that I ought to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth,” (Acts 26:9). “I never heard a name that I hated so much as the name of this Jesus of Nazareth; and I hated it from the heart, and my conscience prompted me to it.” When our Lord met him by the way, “Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?” little did the poor man think Christ died for him, and should be a blessed fountain of life to him. A believer may be a great enemy to the grace of God, before the grace of God makes him a believer.

2dly, It may not be denied but that a true believer may take in doctrines contrary to the grace of Christ in their tendency, though he perceive it not. I should be loath to think that all these Galatians, that are here so sharply reproved by the apostle Paul, were rotten-hearted people; there might be many sincere people amongst them, imposed upon by the cunning of them that lay in wait to deceive. There may be, through darkness, perplexed heads in many honest hearts, about several points concerning the grace of God, It is not for us to measure, anybody’s state according to the principles that they profess, unless they be very bad.

3dly, It is not to be denied but that in a fit of temptation, even a true believer may abuse the grace of God; he may turn it into wantonness, and may grow light and vain, because of his mistaking the nature of the grace of God. Several have done so, and God knows how to tame them that do so; and the severest fatherly rebukes of the law are upon them that wax wanton because of his kindness. These things being premised, I would briefly shew how it is that a good man cannot frustrate the grace of God.

1. Because good men are all grace’s captives. Every believer, as a believer, and when he is made a believer, is made a captive of the grace of God. How are men saved, think you? We cannot see which way they are saved; the word goeth forth, and people hear it; but we do not know who gets good, and when they get good by it. I will tell you when men are saved; when the grace of God comes and lays hold of them, and claps hold of a poor sinner —"This man shall be my captive, and I will save him.” All believers are captives to the grace of God, and, therefore, they cannot frustrate the grace of God; they are all subdued by this grace, and made “willing in the day of his power.” (Psalm 110:3).

2. No believer can frustrate the grace of God, because he is dead to the law, as the apostle’s word is in the context, (Gal. 2:19). And there are two things needful to make a man dead to the law; — to know the law; and to know himself: and whosoever knows both these, is a man dead to the law. He that knows the purity, and the spotlessness of the law of God, and he that knows his own heart, and its vileness, this man will naturally draw this conclusion, “Surely this law can never do me any good. I can never fulfil it, and it can never save me; if there be not another way of salvation than by the law, I am gone for evermore.” “I through the law am dead to the law,” saith the apostle; “I need no more, to make me despair of life by the law, than to see the law: it commands what I cannot do, it threatens what I cannot avoid nor bear; and therefore, I am dead to the law, that I might live to God;” — “my life must come in another way than by the law.”

So much shall serve for the opening of these truths. It would now follow to make some Application; which I shall do in two things, respecting all the doctrines that I have raised from this former part of the verse. By these doctrines here delivered by the apostle, you are called to try the spirits, to try the doctrines you hear, and you are called to try your own state; for every doctrine that is contrary to the grace of God is a doctrine that Christians should hate. And your eternal state is to be determined by these things — What are your heart-thoughts of the law of God? What are your heart-thoughts of the righteousness of Christ? And what are your heart-thoughts of the grace of God? And every one that knows truly what his inward sense of these things is, may soon come to some conclusion concerning his spiritual state: but I shall speak more fully to these things the next opportunity.

IL CP Gathering Day Six and a Little Bit More

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Thu, 17 Oct 2013 15:38:00 +0000

There is not much to say for the last day of the Gathering from my perspective since the Raimundo clan left that morning. It mainly consisted of packing and goodbyes and grabbing food from the fridge to stuff it in my cooler as best I could. Vacuums and brooms and Windex flying about inside while shovels and tractors thudded and whirred outside. Getting last minute hugs and farewells and “call me not maybe!” amidst all the cleaning commotion. You see, the Harrison Homestead was in that indescribable state that totters between being College Hangout Central and Nice Celebration Open House. Thankfully, all the CPers provided extra hands to work under the good leadership of the Harrison and Gaines parents.

And you will never know what we were watching...

As we pulled out of the driveway, dog holes were being filled and floors were being put back to their proper sparkly colour. But despite all the cleaning, we managed to get some good adieu photographs.

A few of the remaining girls

Quite the merry old bunch, eh?

From there, we drove the five hours it takes to get to the Nix home, where Mumsie and Josh dropped me off for the weekend. Between Scattegories and Scrabble, Brielle and Evelyn, sleeping and waking, tea and coffee, books and laughter, church and conversation, classical and Owl City, spending time with Aaron and Anna was the perfect way to close the week. See, their home is peaceful. And loving. And so very welcoming. God blessed me by putting me there!

He also blessed me by letting Brielle warm up to me after an hour’s uncertainty. Perhaps that had something to do with me holding her sister in my arms, me talking to her mum in a very friendly way, and me crawling on top of her counters to put dishes away. But it might have had more to do with my many bags which she quickly set to opening and closing, and with the ever-beloved cheddar that I brought her. What matters is that by the end of the visit, we were playing on the floor like old chums. Brielle and Evelyn are so cute and easy-going, and I think it flows from the security they feel in their God-centred, God-loving little home. Praise God for families like that!

Brielle was napping when I finally thought to pull out the camera, but we did get pictures of darling Evelyn.

A precious lassie, indeed.

I loved how Anna was so intensely interested and loving over her little girl.

Tata for now!

So that was my week! God showed great kindness in all sorts of ways by letting me enjoy His time as I did, and all that I can do is thank Him for it!
One thing I learned throughout the week is that it is the little things that count:

The sunrise over a red, white-trimmed chicken coop and endless golden fields every morning.
The hum of an ice cream maker.
The many colours a name can take.
Red disposable cups and their accompanying penmanships.
The many smiles a laugh can bring.
Boys clearing away branches for girls.
A Bible open and read in the middle of chaos.
“Forbidden Friendship” playing on a perfect Autumn day.
Earnest prayers yearning for God and His will alone.
A wonderful woman calling me “chickadee” every new day.
A hug from a friend when you least expect it.
A shelf full of books that says, “Yes, this is home.”
A church that sings and preaches and prays ~ worships ~ through and for and because of its Saviour.
The soothing smell of cinnamon and chocolate.
A couple holding hands all the way home.
Babies grinning because they are safe.
Old friends reuniting around the word and new friends being found because of it.

IL CP Gathering Day Five

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Wed, 16 Oct 2013 00:40:00 +0000

So...perfect.

Friday. The Raimundo’s last full day at the Illinois CP Gathering. I think we woke up to a semi-early ~ or regular, rather ~ start and broke our fast with a nice spread of make-your-own oatmeal with homemade muffins.

I could not believe the week had flown by so quickly! Master Jacob and Mrs. Harrison and all the gang just felt like family, like friends who were gathered around Christ. I suppose that is what we were, and I suppose that is how we were supposed to feel, but the thought that soon Josh and I would be packing up and leaving seemed...strange. So life goes, however, and it is always for the best.

Still, we had a full day left, and beautiful mornings with a house full of friends is neither the time nor place for strangeness ~ at least, not the dismal sort of strangeness. So, up I picked myself and cracked a few jokes (scratch that: listened to other people crack a few jokes) about our general perky slowness in the morningtime and Drew’s general non-brainness at that bright hour. Apparently espresso and coffee cover a multitude of sleepless nights. So the usual camaraderie and pleasant goofiness carried us through the first few hours of day: Eli’s astonishingly smirky smile, Master Jacob’s irresistibly charming way of forgetting names, a few short people witticisms (or lack thereof), and gorgeous piano playing thanks to the likes of a one Connor Rhoden and a two Kaitlyn Semones, amongst others. A few hugs from Emily and Essie, a number of knowing ironic glances from Megan, lovely sweet quiet chuckles with Cassie, and huge grins and laughs with Naomi. Yeah, this place felt like home....

Don't you hear The Piano Guys' Phillip Phillips cover playing now?

But today was not the day for that, again. Today was the day for a lovely hike out in the autumn colours beautifying the shores of the Mississippi, and hopefully it was a day for some solid talks with strangers, as God provided.
And, besides, there were sandwiches to pack, which is always interesting, especially if you had run out of bread the day before. Thankfully, the always-ready-with-a-magical-touch Mrs. Harrison had run off to the grocery store and purchased food for the hungry. Along with our needed bread, she also fulfilled what various college kid requests we had scrawled all over her shopping list. Mrs. Harrison purchased a box full of Life for Susanna, 100 Grand candy bars to put towards Naomi’s scholarship, a pack of pens to improve my penmanship, and, amongst other things, a box of Austin somthingorothers so that the graduate could find himself again. Yes. Have I mentioned that Mrs. Harrison is amazing? Sometimes broken records are worth it and right, and this is one of those times. Anyway. Once we had decided for the upteenth time that we were or were not wearing our Gathering shirts to the hike (we ended up not), and once said shirts were all duly and drolly signed in a swarm of colours (or just Christmas blushes if we are talking about Essie), then we grabbed our lunches and stormed the white van yet again to go to Alton and Pere Marquette.

If Alton is anything, it is most certainly not 45 minutes away from the quaint yellow Harrison homestead. About an hour and 45 minutes after setting out to our hiking destination, we finally arrived and settled in for a lovely picnic lunch in front of a breathtaking stone lodge complete with pond and associated wild life. The leaves were just beginning to don their seasonal colours, and, boy, was the Mississippi gorgeous. I was genuinely delighted to be there, especially after Essie fanned my excitement by blowing bubbles out of our moving vehicle to the stirring sounds of John Powell’s How to Train Your Dragon soundtrack. CPers are brilliant, I know.

Everyone's favourite awkward homeschooler picture.

Lunch eaten, we separated into our interviewing teams of three to hit our first targets. Uh, as in, cautiously walk up to the first person we felt okay approaching and asking them a question. That.
Let’s just say that Joshua, Emily’s, and my first two tries did not go over too smoothly. “Hi, Sir, my name is ____ and I was wondering if you would be willing to answer a question for our college research program?” “Sure!” “Is it alright if we record you as you answer?” “Sure, why not?” “What will happen to you when you die?” Laser stares from the guy and Medusa glares from the girl. “Oh. That question. Go away.”

Well, I guess God did not want us talking with that couple for the day! It all turned out well in the end, though. Between the six CP interviewing teams, we held a pretty impressive number of rather decent conversations with many people. But the numbers are not what matters. What matters is that we acted from the strength and grace God gives us to encourage others to think about truth. What matters is that we left fear behind and said hello. What matters is that a stricken soldier was slammed with the thought that living for the ultimate thrill might not be his salvation and an agnostic intellectual was confronted with the notion that Something steady might be out there after all ~ and that maybe perhaps somehow in ways we will never know, God was doing something in these souls. Maybe. That’s up to Him. The point for me was that, just like I surprised myself with how hyper and kiddie I could be at the City Museum the day before, I surprised myself with how confident a timid girl like me can be when she sincerely steps out in God’s strength. ‘Cause for me talking at all, and talking to a stranger at that, is like facing giants.
So, if I can pry a person’s heart by asking challenging albeit simple questions like Why? and How? and What?, then you can as well, and I encourage you as a Christian to give it a thoughtful whirl.

For those who like scenery...

...and for those who like people.

Again, anyway. The hike and half-hour long conversations done and over with, we all clambered back into the white van and burgundy Flex for the very last time. Of course, we solemnified the occasion with The Piano Guys and Peter Hollens and goofy Brad Paisley songs. Mhm. CPers are....brilliant. Upon our return to the Harrison Homestead, my eyes scanned the dog-speckled, corn-rimmed yard for a glimpse of Mumsie Pie, whom we were expecting in the late afternoon. There she was! ‘Tis always joyous to reunite with one’s mumsie, is it not? So once the hugs were exchanged, I went inside to hear Mrs. Harrison reassure me that, no, she did not need help in the kitchen but that, yes, creek-stomping was loads of fun and, oh, my stars, I ought to go join in the merriment. So that I did, along with Austin, Drew, Cassie, Naomi, Connor, Emily, Kaitlyn, Ben, Sara Beth, and lil Master Jacob (my apologies if I forgot someone ever so important). Wading through poison ivy and dried branches and swampy mud in a dress and child-sized bumble-bee boots is, by far, one of the best ways to spend an evening. And picking burrs off of said dress while piggy-backing Master Jacob tops it off like barbecue sauce on Essie’s ice cream. It was fantastic. The men proved very gentlemanly to the ladies and everyone laughed, snapped pictures, and climbed over logs and barbed wire right until they exactly wanted to. Then we crashed back to the house. So, maybe we don’t make the best Indians, but I am sure we do a mean Lewis and Clark.

The Goated Yard

Did I mention pictures? Ha. Pictures and pyramids, more like it, because when we got back to the chickened and goated yard, the gloaming light was striking the cool grass just right, so my genius brother suggested we CPers make a human pyramid before the Subras left and broke up our little group. Good idea!

Before genius brother

After genius brother

After bidding the Subras and Stephen Petersen many a farewell, din din was on! And it was yuuuummy. For the first time that week, I was able to revel in the nightly bonfire and canter between myriad fireside conversations, ranging from horror (okay, dark-turned-light Christian) books to politics and chopped steak. When the s’mores made their shimmering appearance, Jenn Jenn snuck off to the girl’s bedroom to lay herself down quick, for she knew a long and hilarious night lay ahead of her. You see, a certain someone and another certain someone and another other certain someone (ahem, Drew, Josh, and Connor) had begun to spoof “Titanium” at various and sundry times throughout the day. With a little help from Austin, they hit on a grand theme. Which I shall not disclose until the final version is released.

Evil masterminds

Their debatably innocent minions

Suffice it to say that, until midnight, this spoof took centre stage in the Harrison living room, with Connor doing percussion, Kaitlyn playing a lovely piano accompaniment, and Cassie, Drew, Joshua, and myself chirping out words as well as our parched, cracked, and tired vocal machinery allowed. I have never heard people laugh so loudly and fully. It was a good last thing to hear before bed.
Because bed came next. A delightful, peaceful, sweet, and earned sleep. And one rather blissfully unaware of leaving this place the following morning.

Don’t worry. The last post will be short. Really. Honest.

Photo credit Emily Kemp and Cassandra Rhoden

IL CP Gathering Day Four

noreply@blogger.com (Jenn) — Fri, 11 Oct 2013 12:22:00 +0000

Our day yesterday. Wow.

We did start off the day in the usual way: wake up, get up, make-up, eat up, wash up, pack up. But after lunches were safe in their coolers, Austin gathered us around to discuss some of the tactics we should use when interviewing people on Friday (today). We reviewed the difference between being a sledgehammer versus a crowbar, an approachable and unapproachable way to ask a simple question, which questions can come across as more innocent and welcoming as opposed to queries that seem to doubt the presence of our interviewee’s noggin. Needless to say, the conversation was really rather fun and quite informative. Drew asking questions the wrong way could be a paid attraction, just for laughs. Austin then split us into six groups of three, tried to figure out how we could get enough professional-esque cameras to go around, and then sent us on our way so that each of the groups could privately practice interviewing for today’s performance. Jenn loves role-playing, and the practice went even better than normal because she was teamed up with her brother, Josh, and her friend, Emily. In a stretched-out thirty minutes, we rehearsed being the devil’s advocate. I was an energy-circle-of-life meanie, Josh somehow successfully pulled off the transcendentalist/nihilist nice-guy stance, and Emily performed a solid humanistic social relativist. So so much fun.

Most of our motley crew

But all good things come to an end, and at Drew’s bellow we slid out from under the willow tree and back into the living room to analyse what each of the groups did and learned during their practice times. That analysis was just as helpful as the talks before the practice! Being able to hear different perspectives, techniques, and suggestions from a group of varied but united people is always a win, don’t you think?

But back to the “up’s”: round up, close up, pile up, drive up the freeway and into St. Louis. And this is where the wow begins. We pulled up to a eleven-story building that sported a bus hanging precariously over the highest ledge, a roof with a ferris-wheel atop it, windows with metal slides shining all the way down, and the coolest work of swirly scrap iron projecting its tendrils all along the front of the building ~ like rusted ivy. Better yet, I saw people ~ people ~ climbing on that ivy! Soon that people could be me!!! I have never been so eager to be a monkey, all zoos aside, and climb to my heart’s content. Rest assured that we were springing into the museum. Oh, yeah. This place was a museum. The City Museum they call it because of the way every piece in and outside of the building is recycled and donated material from St. Louis. A really innovative architect junkie (shoulda been a CPer) designed a place where a city can show off its trash and provide a bewilderingly delightful playground to both kids and the kids’ adults. Brilliant, I know. Ridiculously fun, I attest. Ready to go again? Without a doubt!

First we hit the skateless skate-board park. You know those loopy smooth woody-but-not-wood platforms that you see in 90’s movies? The place where the disturbed teenage of the plot goes to release his frustration with his overbearing parents? Yeah, one of those parks but without the disturbed teenagers and without the skate board. Just you, your team, and your shoes. Running parallel, dashing madly across and up one of loops, swinging like Tarzan across ropes and being reminded once again why you don’t have upper-body strength, going back to the loops and the giant walk-along pencil to stretch your lugs. Coming across a hole in the wall that turns out to be the rabbit-hole into a rat-maze. Scraping up your knees so badly and looking for more ways and places to do the same thing. Looking up and seeing kids crawling above you in an open wire casing. Knowing that you are by golly gonna join them. And then you do join them. Well, there’s another way to scrape your knees! And having a marvellous time.
I will let other people tell you about the giant hamster wheel. Mhm.

I really could go on and on and on about the City Museum, but I will have to stop because so much more happened than I could ever hope to tell in a fun-sized blog post. That is why there are picture-takers and G+ photo albums.

Once we were all lost and found in jungles and caves, we rejoined each other at the museum entrance and pointed our noses to the St. Louis Arch, “a symbol of western exploration and expansion that marks the spot of Lewis and Clark’s departure to chart the unknown.” There. We took a few pictures, and then a few more pictures, and then the five “one more” pictures, and then followed our stomachs to the Old Spaghetti Factory.

That restaurant is such a beautiful place! Brick and dark wood and heavy fabrics in light colours with those nifty chandeliers. The smells were lovely pasta smells, cheesy and garlicy and oh, so delicious. The people were nice, too. Jael was lovely company, so bright and happy even though we were all exhausted after our afternoon of kiddishness. Naomi perked up right quick after her Fabulous or Awesome or Whatever It Was Chocolate Oreo Shake. Josh joined her. Apparently the perfect blend of Chick-fil-a’s Cookies n’ Cream shake with the right smidgen of chocolate wonder. Politics and Pasta consumed, Spumoni cleaned off of its silver dishes, and yawns rolling, we went home.

Home to laugh and talk. Home to sing and sleep. Home to bewail the fact that we only had one more full day left of this being home! And home to rest rest rest until today. Which post comes later.