She had shoved it aside. So enthralled with these words that breakfast would have to wait.
As I peeked in on her, Jesus’ words rang true. ”It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
Ancient words first spoken to a stubborn people after their years in the wilderness. Repeated by my Lord. Lived out by my daughter as she hungers for something more than food to fuel her day.
During the winter months, my favorite dinner meal is a hearty soup with homemade bread. There is nothing better than coming in from a cold, busy day to a crockpot simmering with minestrone or chili. The aromas just draw you in, don’t they? Add a great loaf of bread and dinner is served!
Yesterday, I forgot to get a yeast dough rising early in the day so I began to hunt for a quick bread recipe that would fit the bill instead. My free tip for the day: use the internet for good recipe hunts. Often times you’ll find something already tried, true and even rated so that you don’t waste time on a recipe that everyone hates. My favorite site is Recipezaar. You can find recipes by ingredients or categories or titles. And, different filters can allow you to pare the list down to something manageable for your needs (I started with a list of 7,000 options yesterday – that is NOT manageable). Their five-star rating system makes it so that you can easily glance to see how many people have made and rated the recipe you’re considering.
So, what did I land on to go with our Beef Stew last night? Beer Bread! It was a great compliment to the stew AND I avoided the whole kneading and rising process. It was such a yummy lifesaver that I thought I’d share it with you. Maybe for your weekend culinary adventures?
Ingredients
Instructions
Now that I have made it successfully as is, I’ll probably experiment with making it a tad healthier by substituting some whole wheat pastry flour for a portion of the white flour and maybe adding some ground flax seed. I also read comments from a few users who added ½ cup of shredded cheddar and other items to the batter (like jalapenos or herbs). I always encourage getting a baseline before you experiment with additions or changes. But, that’s because I’m a very orderly, cautious sort of person. My mom would experiment right from the beginning – she’s fearless in the kitchen.
I don’t think you could experiment much with the sugar or the salt because of the chemistry of the bread rise. But, you can always give it a whirl. And, can I just say that the butter, while not the healthiest ingredient, made for a truly fabulous (I don’t use that word often) and crispy crust.
Have fun trying something new!!
Failure. The day has barely begun and already it lies heavy on my chest. The hurrying, the nagging, the yelling. I’m exasperated; they’re discouraged. It’s not the way I want to send them off to school. But, somehow it happens that way more often than not.
Maybe tomorrow will be different. I’ll make sure my own heart is ready before the day begins. I’ll pack lunches ahead of time. I’ll make sure they don’t sleep in. I’ll do this; I’ll do that. Tomorrow will be different.
But tomorrow comes and it’s not different. I don’t follow-thru on my plans or we find forgotten homework that needs finished or the kids begin to bicker about who should brush teeth first. And, before I know it, belittling words are flying out of my mouth and I’m nagging about the chore chart or yelling at them for yelling at each other.
The foreboding sense of failure comes quickly as I recognize the signs of another morning gone bad. I feel like I’m going to suffocate under the weight of it. The lies rush in, attacking my insecurities and causing me to question my worth.
Will tomorrow ever be different? And the day after that? Will I ever follow-thru on my good intentions? When it comes right down to it, will it really be any different?
I’m not talking about slapping on a fake smile and biting my tongue so that we can have a cheery morning. Anybody can do that for a day or two. Jesus once likened it to whitewashing tombs – the outside is cleaned up but the inside is still full of decay. That is not what I want. My people-pleasing heart has been there and it’s not pretty. It’s full of striving and pride and, eventually, broken promises.
This smothering disappointment that I feel can really only lead to two places. Option #1: It can lead me to trying harder tomorrow. Maybe I’ll succeed (and then I’ll feel prideful for having it all together) or maybe I’ll fail (and then I’ll hate myself for screwing up my kids).
Or, Option #2: It can lead me to a healthy sorrow and dependence on the One who can actually stop the inward decay.
The only real answer is, as always, right there in His words to us. Lovingly breathed out by the One who understands our hearts better than we do.
Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. (Paul’s second letter to the church at Corinth)
Oh, it is so tempting to lose heart. But, could it be true? Could it be that somehow in all of this mess that is me, that my inner woman is being renewed day by day? That something beautiful is being born within that will give my mornings hope?
Could it be that tomorrow could be different? Not because of what I do differently (though I know my choices do matter), but because God has given me His Spirit and He is producing a treasure in this broken vessel. Even in the midst of my failure.
Could it be that I don’t have to yell when the chore chart isn’t finished… because I’m resting in what He is doing in our home. Could I really be free from these patterns that define our mornings? And the suffocating feeling that comes with them? The condemnation I put on myself and on the kids for our failures?
Could it be?
Earlier in the same letter Paul writes, “Now the Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.” Ahhh liberty. Sweet freedom. Maybe I can breathe again.
But wait it gets even better… “But we all, with unveiled face beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as from the Lord, the Spirit.”
Breathe it in, Shan. Deep, clean breaths. No more choking under the weight of your unmet expectations and your own disappointment with yourself. Dependence instead.
Dwelling in these pages and depending on this One.
“Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty…”
It’s almost imperceptible but I can hear the change in his voice. The glistening eyes as he returns to his seat only confirm it. This is the thing that I am loving most. This passion and this affection that bubbles to the surface from time to time. My heart is undone as I sit next to this man – my husband and also my pastor.
I’m not sure what I expected as I became a pastor’s wife nearly two year’s ago. Rick and I had been doing ministry together for years on the college campus. I was no stranger to the ups and downs that come with ministering to others. I suppose I knew that this would be different. That it would come with its own set of ups and downs. But I didn’t really know how it would feel.
In many ways, I’m still sorting through it. Navigating it as I go.
But, this. This raw love for his people. It has been an unexpected joy for me.
I’ve always respected his ability to teach the Bible – the studying and the praying and the planning and the actual delivery. I’ve seen him speak to thousands; I’ve watched him open the scripture to one hungry heart. I know he’s a gifted teacher. I’ve also long appreciated his ability to lead others. He’s a planner/thinker/doer with the unique ability to see both the big picture vision and the details that need to happen to get there. These are things I’ve watched him do for 17 years now. I knew they’d part of his role as pastor.
The thing that caught me off guard and has been such a joy to watch is this love that comes through as he shepherds our church. The shimmer in his eye as he gives a benediction. The emotion that surfaces in his voice as he prays for the church. The way he’s consistently reminding us of Jesus not because of religious show but because he truly wants what is best for us. The pensive concern on his face at the things he can’t share but feels deeply because someone in the church is hurting. The sober reflection as he serves communion and leads us to remembering. The intentional pursuit of being out of his office and with his people.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen him love people before. But, campus ministry is a constant influx of people coming and going. It covers a short burst in a person’s life. It’s a critical, transformational time… but by its very nature it is quite specific and quite short. Even our staff team was very young and very transient. We loved our students but we also knew that our time with them was brief.
But this new season of ministry has allowed me to see a side of Rick’s heart that has captured me all over again. Both as someone in his congregation and as the one who sits with him at the dinner table.
My heart is undone as I watch this man who loves his people so deeply – I’m grateful that he is my husband and also my pastor.
I should just make it a regular category on my to-do list: pick up Nerf darts. I find them everywhere. There’s one sitting in the media cabinet that has been there since Christmas. If you saw it there, several things might come to mind: maybe you would wonder what that weird orange thing is or maybe you would judge my housekeeping standards.
For me, that stray dart says “Caleb.” My warrior son. This warrior instinct is hardwired right into the deepest places of his heart and it comes out in all sorts of ways. The books he reads, the games he plays, the stories he writes, the way he approaches sports.
Case in point: He and the fellas have been playing football at recess – so Caleb has been coming home and strategizing plays for the guys to look at. For him, it’s more than just tossing the ball around with his buddies. It’s a battle to be fought and won. Such things require good tactics and thoughtful preparation.
I love that about Caleb. It makes him a good thinker. He’s always evaluating and considering the things going on around him. It also makes him an initiator. He’s not a passive kid. He’ll jump right into a new situation without a lot of fear or apprehension. And, it makes him a bit raw about justice and honest character. It’s really hard for him to stomach injustice or cowardice or betrayal. Something stirs within him in the face of such things and, honestly, it can be rather inspiring to watch him wrestle with them.
As much as I love those things about Caleb, I’m also noticing that they make people uncomfortable. Much in our culture would snuff out or try to tame such character. Sometimes guys like Caleb are hard to control. They’re not always very quiet and their independent spirit can get them into trouble. And, while we applaud honesty most of the time, we really don’t want too much of it. It makes us, well, uncomfortable.
Just yesterday, he and I were alone in the car and he was silent in the back seat for a while. “Mom,” he said as he gazed out the window. “I just can’t believe we live in a country where it’s OK to kill babies before they have a chance to be born. I think that when I get older I really want to do something about that.” There it is – just the sort of thing that makes us, well, uncomfortable. We refined adults have our ways of explaining it away or making it sound less raw or wagging our fingers at such youthful, black-and-white views. But, in the end, my 10-year-old son is right. As a country, we’ve been bickering about it since the 1970s but the bottom line is, he’s right. In our country it’s OK to kill babies before they have a chance to born – at any point in the pregnancy for any reason that suits us. (I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his own daddy’s tax dollars might even be funding it soon.)
But, this post isn’t really about abortion. It’s about my son and something beautiful that I see in his life. Oh, it has it’s darker side at times – like when he looses his temper during dodgeball and comes completely unglued in PE class. Or when he acts rashly in a moment of revenge because his intensity gets the best of him. Yep, those are the down sides of being a warrior.
And, sometimes it’s easy to get consumed by those downsides. I really let them overwhelm me at times. Sometimes it’s all I can see. And, then I live with this nagging fear that I will squash him with all my corrections and reminders.
Hence, the Nerf dart and why it’s still in the media cabinet. I’m leaving it there – right where it is. Eventually, I might scoop it up and hide it in my memory box. Along with his writing journal that has stories that begin with “dark and stormy nights” and involve some sort of epic battle. And the comic book drawings of knights dueling. And the report card with his second-grade teacher’s comment that she fully expects him to change the world.
That Nerf dart reminds me to keep the big picture in mind. Sometimes warriors chew with their mouths open and have a penchant for questioning authority. I’m not saying that bad manners and disrespect are OK. But as a mom I can choose to focus on those or I can focus on the warrior.
May this be a year of choosing well.
By some religious calendars, today is called Epiphany. It is a Christian feast celebrating the coming of the Magi (who were not Jews) to recognize Jesus as King. For us their visit signals the reality that Jesus came to all the world, for anyone who would believe – not just one nation.
In addition to the celebration, it marks the official end of Christmas and is sort of deadline for getting your Christmas decorations down. We’ve already boxed up ours… but several people have asked me about our nativity tradition so I thought I’d take today to share a bit more about it. Perhaps it’s an idea that you can file away for next year. (Actually, it’s a great time to buy the nativity set as most such items are being clearanced from toy store shelves right now!)
As I mentioned in my December 16th post, we start with a Playmobile nativity set. It’s not the most beautiful set you’ll ever find but it’s pretty indestructible. It’s very hands-on and the kids love it. (In fact, a few years ago we bought a second set that sits in storage so that we can send each of the kids off with their own when they’re ready to start their family traditions someday.)
Right after Thanksgiving I set up the stable with the animals and even put the shepherd tending his sheep on a hill nearby. The scene stays that way until the evening of December 21st when we start reading the Biblical account and adding figures to the scene.
On the 21st, we read Luke 1:26-38 and introduce Mary along with the angel. Rick reads the passage, allowing the kids to “act out” the characters with the Playmobile figures. We highlight the fact that “nothing is impossible with God” and I close by praying.
On the 22nd, we read Matthew 1:18-24 and introduce Joseph (also with the angel). On this night we underscore the angel’s message that Jesus is “Emmanuel, God with us” and that “He will save his people from their sins.”
On the 23rd we read Luke 2:1-7, which is the account of Jesus’ actual birth. I know, I know. Christmas isn’t until the 25th, right? Why are we reading about the birth on the 23rd?I assure you, there is a method to our madness! This schedule allows us to finish the story on the 25th with the record of the Magi and the exchanging of gifts.
On the 24th,we read Luke 2:8-20 and talk about the shepherds. Rick and I love this part of the story because it underscores the fact that the angels announced this amazing news to regular people. They didn’t go to the religious elite or announce it in the temple. The first hearers of the Good News were normal, work-a-day people like you and me.
On the morning of the 25th we read Matthew 2:1-2 & 7-12 and introduce the Magi. We talk about their journey to find Jesus and their insightful gifts: gold, a gift for a King; frankincense, a gift for Deity; and myrhh, a gift for the dead. That’s our Jesus: King of Kings, God incarnate, and the One who die on our behalf.
Then we pray and exchange our own gifts.
Caleb was 4- and Madison 2-years-old when we started this tradition. Both of them would tell you that it’s a favorite part of the holiday season for them. Usually they also get a glass of eggnog and a Christmas cookie after we read and we end the evening with hope and joy. Our conversations have gotten a little more intense as they get older and begin to really wrestle with the idea that God took on flesh and became a baby for our sakes. It’s fun for Rick and I to see the tradition growing with them a bit.
It’s a simple tradition and it’s certainly not the only one out there. I know other families who do other neat things to celebrate. Some years, we add other things to our Advent celebration. Those come and go as we see fit. But, this one is our constant and it helps us keep our eyes on Jesus in a very tangible way.
If it can serve you in some way, great. If not, thanks for letting me share a bit of our McKee family tradition with you.
It was a time for renewal. Cleaning, organizing, repairing. They were restoring the broken down places, renovating the neglected house.
Not too dissimilar from the spring cleaning you and I do to our own homes. Digging through the closets and the forgotten corners. Sorting the stuff that accumulates. You know the routine: a pile for Goodwill, a pile for the trash, a pile to fix and restore.
But what if in the midst of all that dusting and piling and fixing, you uncovered something precious. Something you (or someone before you) had tucked away for another day. Maybe a box of photos from the old country or a journal of precious insights from your great-grandmother. In that moment, the thing once hastily shoved aside becomes a treasure of sorts.
That’s what happened for these folks. Workmen were there repairing the house and tending to the mess – and then they found it. Under the rubble and the piles of discarded things. A forgotten treasure. A journal of letters from a Lover to His beloved.
The text* tells us that “Hilkiah responded and said to Shaphan the scribe, ‘I have found the book of the law in the house of the Lord.’” We are told that Shaphan eventually took the book to the king along with a report about the ongoing work in the temple. “And Shaphan read from it in the presence of the king. And it came about when the king heard the words of the law that he tore his clothes.”
As I read the words my heart broke afresh. All I could think was: How long? How long had they been trying to follow God and serve Him with only tradition as their guide? All the while, words of life and wisdom were right there in the house of the Lord. No wonder King Josiah tore his clothes as a sign of deep mourning.
The text doesn’t really tell us how long. We know that the nation of Judah had a string of good kings and bad kings. Some were horrible men who did horrible things. Others came and restored the heart of Jerusalem by worshipping the One True God. The history is a checkered one.
So how long had it been? How long had they been going through the motions?
Truth be told, some weren’t even going through the motions. Many were in flat out rebellion against God. How long had it taken them to stray away? Without the word to guide them or faithful men to lead them. How long?
And there it was all along. Right there in the house of the Lord. “I have found the book of the law in the house of the Lord.”
Of this book King David** had once written: “The law of the Lord is perfect, restoring the soul; the testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple. The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes…they are more desirable than gold, yes, than much fine gold; sweeter also than honey and the drippings of the honeycomb.”
Maybe as a boy, King Josiah had heard this psalm from a faithful nanny… did he tear his clothes as whisps of the ancient poetry came back to his mind? How is it that he understood how precious the book really was?
Oh dear friends, what about us? How long have we been trudging through our days, trying to live this life without the perfect, restoring words of God as our guide? How long will we go through the motions while a Bible lies on the shelf or stuffed away in a closet? These words that have the power to restore the soul, rejoice the heart, give wisdom, and enlighten the eyes. These words that are more desirable than gold. We look everywhere for truth and some way to make sense of our days. All the while, words of life and wisdom are right here, hidden under the rubble.
As I think ahead to this year and my desire that 2010 be a year of dwelling, I pray that it will be a year of dwelling in His Word in a way that I’ve never dwelt before.
That my heart will find its refuge in the pages of this book.
That I will feast on it as it points me ever to the Living Word: the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us.
The bulbs are packed, the teapot is back in its box, the decorations lovingly stored away. Another Christmas has come and gone. And with its passing comes a new year.
In many ways I’m ready for it. It always feels good to put the Christmas decorations away and get the house back in order after the holiday hoopla. The packing up also signals a welcome return to routines. The kids get back to school this coming week, our home & work schedules return to normal (whatever that is), and all the specials (special food, special programs, special celebrations) have past. Routine is a good thing for my heart.
I also love the prospect of a fresh new year. A blank slate of days. Can’t you just feel the hope that permeates the air at the start of a new year?
But, if I’m honest, I’m also not so ready for it. What if the hope just disappoints? What if all my dreams for 2010 fall flat on their face? In fact, what are my dreams for 2010? We’re already three days in to the new year and I haven’t really planned or reflected much. Can’t you just feel the pressure that threatens to paralyze your heart at the start of a new year?
I’ll be taking some time this week to plan and reflect. I’d rather tread slowly into this new year than make a list of resolutions that will overwhelm me or cause me to strive all the more. I’ve been there too many times and I know that the striving can only lead in two directions: either it makes me prideful or it crushes my spirit. Neither inspire me.
There are a lot of things I don’t know about 2010. But I do know that I want it to be a year marked by dwelling and depending. Dwelling with the Lord wherever He has me. And depending on His Spirit for a heart that reflects His.
As I reflect this week and set aside time to prepare for this new year, I’ll likely be blogging some of my thoughts here. As I do, I hope that you’ll join me in spirit. The start of a new year is a great time to pause and consider who you’re becoming and how you’re spending your short life on this earth. I’d love to hear your hopes and dreams for 2010. Feel free to comment or drop me an e-mail (shannon-mckee@sbcglobal.net).
The last few weeks have seen their fair share of lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, gift lists, Christmas card lists… lots and lots of lists. It feels good to set aside a few of those lists for this ongoing list. A moment to savor some of God’s goodnesses…
Maybe 2010 will be your year to join me and others in a gratitude list. Ann Voskamp’s Gratitude Community has been my inspiration. Please let me know if you start your own list… whether you blog it or journal it. I’d love to rejoice with you.
I ran into a dear friend this morning. She was dropping off her daughter for a special program at our school, I was dropping off my own kids for their regular school day. We rarely see each other midweek like that. But, as we walked away from our brief interaction, I reflected on how much I love being her friend.
The thing I love about Pam is that time with her makes me a better woman. There are several things that make our friendship enjoyable: it’s comfortable and time-tested. We’ve served in ministry together, we’ve walked through heartbreaking situations together, we’ve laughed (it’s hard NOT to laugh with Pam), we’ve encouraged each other in childrearing, we’ve disagreed and learned to love well even in those moments, and oh, how we’ve talked (we both love words). Now, as our husbands pastor in different churches and our kids are older, we see each other less often; but our history makes it easy to delve right back in.
The thing I love most is that we always talk about things that matter. We sharpen each other as we talk about the day-to-day. There’s accountability and challenge as we both pursue excellence in our inner lives. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we laugh and talk about ridiculous stuff too. But, somehow, it always comes back around to the stuff that really matters. I always leave with courage to keep on. To live with purpose, humility, and grace. To remember that it really all comes back to loving: God and people. Ultimately, Pam points me to Jesus. I love that about our friendship.
Our conversation wasn’t even that long. Ten minutes, maybe. But, those 10 minutes gave me the courage to continue in my desire to stop the Christmas madness and focus my energies back on Jesus.
I hope you have people like that in your life. God created us with relationship in mind. He never intended for us to gut it out alone. If you don’t have a Pam, ask God to lead you to one. Look for opportunities to grow your existing relationships or take a risk to try a Bible study or a book club or something. Something that would move you from conversations about how cold it’s gotten this week to conversations about the stuff that really matters. To the stuff that will last into eternity…
