Verse for reflection: For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you. Romans 12:3
Caffeine used to be one of my major vices. I would get up, grope for my slippers, and soon pump fresh caffeine into my veins. Was I any different from the heroin addict, except that what I did was legal?
When one of our children was about fifteen months old and struggling to give up her bottle, I chuckled as I watched a grown man nurse a beer bottle with two hands one day at an archery competition. He looked so much like my toddler, attached to his security. Then in a flash I saw myself walking around the office or at home, coffee cup clutched between two hands.
I’ve now given up the caffeine part (makes mammograms hurt less and I don’t get caffeine withdrawal headaches anymore) but still, getting that first cup of decaf coffee in the morning is a great motivator for getting out of bed.
I recently heard Dr. Brian Kelley, a psychology professor who has done much research on substance abuse say that cigarette addiction is so powerful because so much of the habit is associated with certain activities. You get up in the morning, you have to have your smoke. You drive to work, you go on break, you have lunch—all tied to the Vise (yes I mean that spelling) grip of the cigarette.
Whatever you’ve given up for Lent, Day 9 can be a tough time. The newness has worn off; your commitment is wearing thin. There are still 31 days to go. You are just so hungry for ____ (fill in the blank). You’ll just sneak on Facebook to catch this or that meditation. You’ll just watch that mindless 30 minute TV show. You deserve it. You aren’t on a quest to survive 40 days in the wilderness, after all; who but you will care if you cheat on your crazy “sacrifice” this year.
Jesus had those temptations and more. Who but Jesus and God would know the outcome of the mind games Jesus played with the tempter.
We have much worse temptations and vices. Pride. Vanity. Thinking disparaging thoughts about our loved ones and friends—let alone our enemies. Hanging strong through Lent can give us the mental stamina to put aside the vices that really matter.
What can I learn from my own weaknesses which will help me be more understanding of others? How can I live a lifestyle that is healthy and pleasing to God?
Action: Every time you are “tempted” today to indulge in what you’ve give up, or to not practice the discipline you began at the start of Lent, say what Jesus ended up telling his tempter: “Away from me. I will worship the Lord my God.”
Verse for reflection: For I will pour water on the thirsty land, and streams on the dry ground; I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring, and my blessing on your descendants. Isaiah 44:4
The first home my husband and I owned had a cistern as its only water supply—very common in these parts of Virginia. But after living with it for six-seven years and enduring more waterless weekends than I’d like to remember (when we’d forgotten to order water from the water hauler and were too thrifty to pay the extra fee for weekend delivery), and with two children and hoping for a third, we were finally ready to dig our own well.
My husband was hoping to hit water by 250 feet but pessimistically predicted 500 feet at the most.
By the time we hit 600 feet, co-workers’ jokes about oil and China were getting stale. We begged the driller to try another hole, but he wanted to keep on where he was. As the droning rig tore ever further into our front yard, the incessant noise became a corkscrew impaling not only our budget but our nerves.
I read about Jacob’s well-digging ventures in the Old Testament and suddenly felt a new respect for his patience with the well robbers (Gen 26:17-22).
But I didn’t feel right praying that we’d find water. That seemed like praying for a boy or a girl after the baby’s already been conceived. Enough faith may move mountains, but I didn’t want to worry the Almighty about personal stream moving. Yet I did pray for patience to survive frayed nerves, and peace not to worry about our stretched budget.
We drilled all the way to 925 feet. And finally we had water, almost twice as far as our most pessimistic prediction. To my family members who live in Indiana where 30- to 90 foot wells are the norm, 925 feet deep went beyond ridiculous to ludicrous. How would we ever pay for it?
My husband talked to the contractor who agreed to charge us for only 580 feet—the depth where we had urged him to try another hole. God hadn’t moved a stream but maybe had softened a contractor’s heart in compassion for a young, struggling family.
We celebrated like we were in some far-off country drinking from a newly dug village well. All over the world, so many walk many miles every day to obtain water. I vowed I would never take water for granted again.
But of course I do. But for this day of Lent, every time you turn on a tap or take a drink of water today, think of persons walking miles for their water. Think of the woman at the well in Samaria who met Jesus and found not only water, but a new source of life.
Action: Thank God for your access to water—and to eternal life flowing from God, the giver of water—and life.
***
See more on one Water project in Benin, and a book with gorgeous photography related to that project check here.
Verse for Reflection: Everyone who drink this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give … will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give … will become a spring of water welling up to eternal life. John 4:13-14
One person who decided to try the “ten minutes of doing nothing” discipline for Lent (which I mentioned on Ash Wednesday) said, “You know what ten minutes of doing nothing reminds me of? The time outs we used to do when we were kids.”
Oh yes. Time out as a “discipline”—a form of punishment. I had not thought of that when I suggested it, taken from my pastor’s meditation that day.
And that is what is wrong with our approach to many of the classic disciplines. Fasting. Praying. Giving up smoking. Somehow Lent sometimes feel like punishment—because we’ve been bad. We’re bad because we don’t live a sacrificial life all year long.
Somehow I don’t think spiritual disciplines are supposed to be like that.
When Jesus went to the wilderness for 40 days, he did not go as punishment. He went seeking … something more from God. Seeking to gather strength for the journey ahead—the launch of his ministry. The mission of three years of giving himself, and then, ultimately, giving up his very life, in the end. I don’t think he really knew what lay ahead. So his 40 days in the wilderness was a journey to get closer to God, discover the path God had for him.
And that is how the ten minutes of “doing nothing” or time out, or meditation, (or giving up coffee or French fries should be approached).
As a purposeful ten minutes of being quiet and still (or, if you giving up something, the urges and temptation for whatever you’ve given up can be a reminder of the need to stay in connection to God).
My pastor also talked about renewing strength like an eagle. Maybe we can approach the ten minutes of doing nothing like a recharging of the battery. Like with your cell phone.
Does that help? Power up! A spring of water welling up to eternal life.
Action: In your meditation time today, think of it as the most exciting gift you can give yourself all day. It is a banquet. A hike to the top of a mountain. A chance to listen to the waves roll in at the shore. It is a wondrous place you can come to at any time.
Verse for reflection: But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. Luke 2:19
Usually we read this verse in conjunction with the Christmas story. I’ve always been so glad for this postscript and window into Mary’s heart. But it is a great verse for Lent, and living more mindfully or purposefully.
When our youngest was just a toddler, my parents came to visit and together we went to Chincoteague barrier island off the coast of Virginia for a few days. We made the trip in a trusty circa 1979 Plymouth station wagon, packing my father’s wheel chair, a walker, a car seat and assorted paraphernalia for a beach vacation for four adults and three children. Some of our gear was stored in one of those Turtle-type toppers on the wagon.
Our daughters dutifully washing the wagon before the trip with Grandpa and Grandma.
On the way home, we needed to drop my parents off at the airport on a Sunday morning. We had a short devotional/worship time in the car as we drove. My parents weren’t pious Joes, but anytime we traveled on Sunday as a family when I was growing up, we usually tracked down a church to visit. Or if not that, at least we had “devotions” at the motel or campsite. So they tried to teach and live that one’s faith never took a vacation.
After our little worship service, we spied a roadside fruit stand in eastern Maryland—really just a flatbed hay wagon piled up with watermelons. A crude sign announced “3 melons for $1.” They were huge melons and the bargain was too good to pass up, so we stopped. We stewed awhile over which ones to pick, and also how to fit them in our overloaded station wagon, and ended up taking one or two out and replacing them with smaller melons that fit our space. We paid our dollar and continued on, now a little worried about making it to the airport on time.
Soon a police car pulled us over! My husband went into panic mode and was sure he had failed to stop for a light or had maybe been speeding. But no, the cop, sheepishly, said he had been informed that someone thought we had stolen some watermelons. He said he’d gotten a call from the roadside stand saying we had put more than three melons in our car.
At that point my husband fell over himself in relief explaining how we had put some in, and then out, and officer, you can search this car all over but we only have three watermelons in it. He showed him one at the feet of one child, and then offered to open the Turtle topper to show him the other two. As the officer peered at our walker, grandparents and children (with my mother muttering in the background about how we weren’t crooks, we’d just had a worship service, for crying out loud) suddenly the officer waved his hand and said something like “That’s alright. I think you’re telling the truth” and waved us on, also probably deciding he had better things to do than chase down anyone accused of stealing something worth 33 cents.
This is now one of our favorite vacation stories and if you trade cop or vacation stories with my family for very long, you will probably hear it, with more or less embellishment, depending on who’s telling it. My mother treasures the worship service we had on the road. My kids remember being squished in the station wagon, but basking in the attention of doting grandparents. My husband recalls the gratitude that washed over him when he discovered he was “only” being stopped as a suspect in a highway robbery. I ponder all these things, remembering my parents’ strong value of always taking time to remember the Lord’s day, no matter where you are.
Which gets us back to Lent and the reminder from Mary as she contemplated all the events of Jesus’ birth. If we are to “keep a holy Lent” as the pastor reminds us, surely the mundane details or even wild surprises, are worthy of mulling, worthy of finding the God moments in every day. It’s a reminder to us to do likewise with the everyday experiences of our lives.
Action: Take time at the end of the day to ponder where you saw God. Were there any surprises? Or perhaps your day did not go so well. Focus on the love and devotion your heavenly parent extends to you. Share a comment if you wish.
***
This Lenten series runs Monday through Friday. I invite you to join me on this journey through Lent (if you sign up to follow this blog it will be easier). As a thank you, I can send you a FREE booklet I wrote several years ago, 14 Days to a Better You, which is a look at the classic 7 Vices and 7 Virtues. It’s more fun than it sounds. No obligation—just my way of connecting with blog followers a little better. Leave a comment and I’ll be able to see your email and follow up.
Verse for reflection: “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” Mark 12:43-44.
Twenty-seven years ago this week, our youngest daughter was born. Four days before that, we were in the emergency room because our two-year-old had a seizure. And ten days later, the new baby was back in the hospital with jaundice. (You can see them both below, including signs of jaundice.)
Of course our problems were minor compared to many people. Yet all of this on top of new-mother-exhaustion plus caring for my two preschoolers, left me with few coping resources, frequently near the edge of tears. The hospital bills also meant extra expenses.
A dear older woman from church volunteered to babysit so I could take the middle child back to the doctor for tests related to her seizure (turned out to be fever-related). But when I picked the other two children up, Connie stuffed an envelope into our diaper bag saying, “Someone left this for you.”
When I was in the car with all three kids strapped in, I couldn’t wait to see what was in the envelope. It was a crisp $100 bill. You can imagine the tears, flowing so freely I could barely drive. Who and why?
Most of us have been recipients of someone’s generosity at one time or another. The widow mentioned in the Mark passage speaks to us this Lent: if the widow put in everything she had to live on, what is God saying to me? How could I stretch to sacrifice for someone else? I may never be able to repay the gift of whoever slipped us that $100 bill, but I can repay it to others. I haven’t come close to putting in everything like the widow, but remembering how we’ve been blessed helps me be more generous with others.
This brings to mind that God sacrificed the divine son for the forgiveness of our sins. Since we are created in God’s image and likeness, we should get that was a heart- wrenchingly difficult gift to us. Thanks be to God.
Action: Recall, with gratitude, God’s generous gift, and when someone blessed you with generosity.
Verse for reflection: “Martha, Martha, the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:42:42
I love these women. They have issues—family issues. Jesus loved these women. (No, not like that.) I love that the gospel writers include several stories about these real women.
Our family had issues. When our oldest daughter started going to school, we struggled constantly with morning routine. She got ready in slow motion; I operated on fast-forward. Finally in exasperation I observed, “What’s wrong here is that all the hurry is in me. Don’t you realize what will happen if you’re late for the bus?”
So it was interesting to find that daughter number two, after only a few weeks of kindergarten, started watching the clock in the morning with all the worry of a fast-track executive. “Come on,” she’d tell her sister ten minutes before the bus was due. “The big hand is straight up and the bus is coming!” With that she’d hurry out the door.
Today, remarkably, her gifts in this area are put to good use in her real job.
We can’t escape a certain amount of fast-lane living. But we can make choices to tame the hurry in us. This daughter unwinds walking her dog after work. She jogs. She takes time for really long walks on Sunday afternoons. She digs in a small raised bed garden.
During Lent, we might want to get up ten minutes early to find time for solitude, talking with God to help control the hurry of the day. Time spent with God won’t be taken away from us. Ever. As my pastor reminded us yesterday at our Ash Wednesday service, “Give up busyness for Lent.”
Challenge: My pastor’s challenge was this: take ten minutes and do nothing. Can you do it?
***
I invite you to join me on this journey through Lent (if you sign up to follow this blog it will be easier).
As a thank you, I can send you a FREE booklet I wrote several years ago, 14 Days to a Better You, which is a look at the classic 7 Vices and 7 Virtues. No obligation—just my way of connecting with blog followers a little better. Leave a comment and I’ll be able to see your email and follow up.
Day 1: Ash Wednesday
Verse for reflection: The Lord delights in you and will claim you as his own.
Isaiah 62:4
My oldest daughter and I both remember the time she accompanied me to a fancy hotel at the age of eight for a grown-up Virginia Press Women banquet. I had thrown in a pair of dress shoes that I thought she could still wear.
As we hurried to get dressed at the hotel, she exclaimed, “Mama, those shoes don’t fit me any more,” like she was the one talking to a child. After mild panic and trying, Cinderella-step-sister-like, to squeeze her feet into her dress shoes, I eased up and said, “Oh just go ahead and wear your tennis shoes.”
I had to swallow a bit of my pride as I hastily explained to one woman who glanced at my daughter’s shoes, “Kids have a way of growing so fast. I thought she could still wear her dress shoes!”
But the rest of the evening was wonderful—and I savored watching my daughter add her own special glow and bright conversation to the candlelit table, sneakers safely out of sight under the table.
More than any parent, God delights in us, as today’s verse says. That may seem like a weird way to begin the solemnity of Lent, with the accompanying self-denial and sacrifice we sometimes associate with the season. But if you participate(d) in Ash Wednesday services today with imposition of ashes—with the somber reminder that we are mortal and to dust we shall return—let it also be a sign of the love and joy God marks us with: God knew us in the womb and claims us forever and ever. Amen.
Action: As you go through the day, (or think back on it) imagine God delighting in you. How? Why? What specifically does God savor about you? Enjoy.
***
I invite you to join me on this journey through Lent (if you sign up to follow this blog it will be easier).
As a thank you, I can send you a FREE booklet I wrote several years ago, 14 Days to a Better You, which is a look at the classic 7 Vices and 7 Virtues. It’s more fun than it sounds and small enough to slip into an envelope. No obligation—just my way of connecting with blog followers a little better. Leave a comment and I’ll be able to see your email and follow up.
Adapted from Why Didn’t I Just Raise Radishes: Finding God in the Everyday, by Melodie Davis, Herald Press, 1994, p. 15-17.
Fat Tuesday. Day to use up all the “fat” or oil in the house and do without until Easter (or “feast days,” Sundays, if you practice that kind of Lent). I do plan to make pancakes tonight—what an easy supper. Every other year we have a pancake supper at church but not this year. Boo.
Daughter Doreen gets served up some pancakes at church
by Bill Sanders; husband Stuart watching from far left.
But even if you’ve never practiced any kind of Lenten fasting or sacrifice, I invite you to make this a time to focus on faith, your relationship with God, and growing or shaping up spiritually. In case you think that sounds like boy, Melodie is really going all spiritual on us, I am not playing better than thou. I often go too many days without any real meditation time or Bible reading. I’m as haphazard (not proud of this) as many mainstream Christians. I go in fits and starts. So I’m always a little startled when I find God speaking to me in fresh and new ways when I take the time.
As part of my discipline this Lent I hope to post a daily scripture with related short meditation and photo (each weekday, Monday through Friday) with a break on the weekends.
So party hard tonight if you must, and enjoy those pancakes (see here for my sausage gravy recipe.) And join me here tomorrow as we begin a journey toward “Finding Harmony Every Day of Lent.”
***
I invite you to join me on this journey (if you sign up to follow this blog it will be easier).
And as a thank you, I can send you a FREE booklet I wrote several years ago, 14 Days to a Better You, which is a look at the classic 7 Vices and 7 Virtues. It’s more fun than it sounds and small enough to slip into an envelope. No obligation—just my way of connecting with blog followers a little better. Leave a comment and I’ll be able to see your email and follow up.
I made my second batch of Amish Homemade Noodles, using 1 tiny teaspoon of lard.
I had to think of my friend Emily who once threw down a bag of Martin’s Gibbles potato chips, (a yummy brand made in Dutch country around Chambersburg, Pennsylvania; ask my kids about Martin’s BBQ chips). After she scrutinized the label she exclaimed “Lard!” like it was poison. Despicable, of course, unless you are making fine pie crusts or maybe homemade noodles.
Here’s the recipe I used this time, from Mennonite Community Cookbook (I appreciate the small quantity here for my experimenting, but real Amish or Mennonite cooks would have multiplied these many times over if they were making a batch.)
1 ½ c. flour
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. fat
3 tbl. water
1 egg
Make a well in the flour and add egg, salt and fat.
Rub together and add water to form a stiff dough. Knead.
Divide dough into three parts and roll each as thin as possible.
Spread rolled dough on a cloth and allow to dry partially.
Then cut dough into strips about 1.5 inches wide and stack on top of each other. Then cut cross wise into fine shreds. Dry. (Mrs. Elo Synder, Breslau, Ontario.)
First I went to Red Front (local independent grocery) and bought the smallest container of lard I could find.
Then, I followed the steps exactly, making a well in the flour,
mixing up the dough with my hands.
Kneading the dough, then dividing it into three balls.
And finally, rolling them out as thin as I could get them.
The noodles tasted about the same though, in all honesty. I wasn’t sure how just one tiny teaspoon would make a flavorful difference. Noodles are not my husband’s favorite thing so I’ve been trying out my noodles by making lots of homemade chicken noodle soup. It is good weather for that. And good for ailing bodies. Check this recipe from Mennonite Girls Can Cook, from a wonderful cook, Lovella Schellenberg, who also describes how to make noodles, Russian-Mennonite style.
Here’s a photo essay of Lovella and her granddaughter making homemade noodles, just added 2/15/2013.
The more I researched this topic the less I know. You know how that goes.
***
In my previous blog post on this topic, my mother said the mention of homemade noodles instantly brought back the image of her mother’s noodles hanging over the ironing board to dry.
So she wrote a few more details, which I was happy for: “Looks like [my] Mom followed the recipe and instructions in Mennonite Community Cookbook, p. 124. The rolled dough would have been probably larger than a pie crust and very thin. Not too dry of dough or the noodles would get crumbly. She put them on the ironing board in the parlor with older dish towels underneath. I was sort of amazed that this cookbook stated stuff so much like Mom did. She did have a very ancient cookbook called Inglenook with a plain lady pictured on the cover with a covering on and stings! Boy would that be worth something now.”
My grandmother Ruth Stauffer on my mother’s side.
Mother seemed to remember Grandma just using the egg yolks in her mother’s noodles to make them yellow but I haven’t found any recipe recommending that. More on yellow later.
I also consulted the book, The Amish Cook, by Elizabeth Coblentz, the wonderful cook and columnist from Ohio whose column appeared for years in our local paper, now written by her daughter, Lovina Eicher. Elizabeth died in 2002.
In Coblentz’s cookbook published in 2002 with Kevin Williams (Ten Spread Press), she says they rolled their noodles about 1/16 inch thick. That was helpful to find an actual dimension. And they used yellow food coloring (!) to make the dough a “nice yellow.” She also explained that noodles need to dry at least a week, rearranging the drying rack every day to ensure they dry evenly. Later, she says, they used a hand cranked noodle maker that “rolls out and cuts the dough … What used to take all day now just takes a couple hours. We can put 30 eggs, 30 tablespoons of water, and 30 cups of flour through the noodle maker in an hour.” (p. 87). Elizabeth’s actual recipe is much the same as the one I posted earlier, or the one above, except she did not use any lard or shortening in hers.)
That’s a lot of noodles. But like my mother said, “We used to probably always [love her nuances] feed thrashers noodles.” If you don’t know what thrashers are, my grandpa (on my father’s side) was one. They went around harvesting wheat and stuff with big equipment. So there would always be need for cheap filling food to feed workers on thrashing day.
Finally, I loved my daughter’s mother-in-law’s story shared on my last post on this topic. Sue wrote: “My aunt made homemade noodles for every holiday. They were so good. I tried making them once. I had them all rolled out, cut and spread on the counter to dry. I was doing something else and my oldest daughter came along and proceeded to clump them all back together again into one big dough ball!! I gave up!!”
And that’s about enough on homemade noodles, until I get learn from an Amish cook at Camp Amigo in September when I’m helping with a Road Scholar program on heritage of Mennonites and Amish. Check it out!
Chicken soup from my latest batch of noodles:
Here’s a guest blog I wrote this week for www.Mennobytes.com which is one window into what’s been keeping me from writing any other blog entries.
Excited to be working as compiler/editor on Fifty Shades of Grace for MennoMedia.
There will be stories to make you cry, laugh, connect, and remember the epic grace of God in your life.
Coming in April, we hope!
findingharmonyblog 