Zen-Calvinism

A very timely link from Michael McKinley at the 9Marks blog, an article by Carl Trueman called Zen Calvinism.

I was going to link to some quotes from it, but for some reason I'm not able to copy text from the site, and seeing as how I'm at the tail end of a two week vacation, I'm not about to spoil it by typing several paragraphs when I can just link to them :)

Instead, I'll give you a bonus and after exhorting you to read the article, I'll share a great song from the ever-amazing Alison Kraus.

Waking Up Next to Your Best Friend

Some people say that they love being married because it's so great to wake up next to your best friend.

I think in my case it would be more accurate to say that I love going to bed next to my best friend... he generally wakes up well before I do, and I'm usually a bit of a bear in the morning.

Unbelief, or something else?

I was thinking this morning ...

Do I sometimes disguise a desire to stay in my sin (whether by laziness, preferring my sin, or something else) as unbelief (specifically, not believing that God is powerful enough to change me)?

Maybe that's just a different kind of unbelief ... not believing that God is better than whatever I'm clinging to.

I guess I need both in order to make that 180 turn -- believing that God can and believing that he is worth it.

WRONG, WRONG, WRONG!!!

I came across a quote yesterday that positively made my skin crawl:

"In my study of success and successful people, I have noticed that most of them have strong faith in God and study the Bible: In seeking self-improvement, expose yourself to religious philosophy and go the Bible--the self-help book that has inspired more persons to desirable action than any book written."

Excerpt from "The Success System That Never Fails" by W Clement Stone

I don't know what's more sad, that this guy recommends familiarizing oneself with the Bible as a key to self-help, or the fact that his contact with the Christian faith has commended the Bible as one of the most inspirational self-help books of all time.

This morning, a breath of fresh, pure air from Andree Seu, who's quoting Martin Lloyd-Jones:

“The fundamental thing is that Christianity is about Jesus. . . . Christianity is not a teaching—it is a person. . . . The Lord Jesus Christ was the theme of the preaching of the early church. . . . This is the tragic thing that has been forgotten at the present time. ‘What we need,’ people say, ‘is the application of his teaching.’ But it is not. What you need is to know him and to come into relationship with him. . . .”

Dessert

Step 1: find some oreos in a cupboard downstairs and throw a couple in a glass.



Step 2: mash the oreos up with a spoon or the back of an ice cream scoop (go ahead and get the scoop out; you'll be using it in a second).
Step 3: add some ice cream to the top of those mashed oreos. Not too much, but just enough to feel indulgent.



Step 4: pull out the irish cream you found while cleaning your fridge. pour a generous shot, then maybe a little extra for good measure.
Step 5: dump that Bailey's over your ice cream. (optional: mash it all up together into your own homemade version of a Dublin Mudslide)


Step 6: kick back and enjoy like a dog in the sun on a hot Saturday
(note: no animals were harmed or fed chocolate or alcohol in the making of this dessert. NO WAY would I share with him -- his tastes aren't refined enough!)

I heart green onions

That's all!

slow and steady ... and wet

So... I figured that for the race this weekend (a 24-hour mountain bike race about 1.5 hours outside of Billings), I'd get my butt kicked by the 14.7 mile course, but I'd be stuck out there and have to finish, so I'd end up doing whatever it took to finish. Boy was I right ... and wrong.

The race was a 24-hour endurance race; you and your team (they had categories from single to groups as big as 10; ours was a 5-person team, with me as a stand-in for only one lap) are trying to see how many laps you can complete over a 24 hour period, from 11 a.m. Saturday to 11 a.m. Sunday. It's pretty much out in the middle of nowhere -- spotty cell phone service and a trail that covers some dirt roads, but is mostly cow-paths across pastures or deer-paths along the edges of little gullies, etc. Lots of up and down, lots of bumpy, less-than-ideal paths. Those bumps are really hard on your breathing pattern and your arms/shoulders!

I went last in our rotation, figuring that my one lap could at least count to give the 4 guys a longer break after their first ride. The first rider of the race finished the first lap at just over an hour; our guy came in at an hour-twenty-three. Second guy came in at an hour-thirty-seven. The other two were comparable, and I figured I'd probably be around 2 hours.

Slow-and-steady, that was my motto. Which was working great for me for about the first 6 miles. I was getting passed left and right, but that was okay. I'm abysmally out of shape so I expected that. I had to assure a few people that I was okay as I was pushing my bike up hills and pausing to "enjoy the scenery" (aka, catch my breath). By the time I hit the halfway mark, I'd been riding almost exactly an hour and I was pushing my bike up every incline that was more than 10 feet long ... but, y'know, I'd been told that it was a lot of flat for the last few miles, so I was good with that. Slow and steady ... at least I'll finish.

It started sprinkling rain on me at the halfway point. I thought maybe that's all it would do; that the diagonal bank of dark clouds would maybe miss me? About 2 or 3 miles later, it was pouring rain. I started riding as hard as I could just to get to the end of it, since I didn't have any rain gear and by then, my shoes were sloshing and everything I had on was soaking wet. Those were probably the fastest few miles of my lap -- so much for slow and steady!

And then I hit this field, where the rain had really soaked into the trail and it was so slippery I couldn't actually pedal and make my bike tires go forward -- my legs were too tired and weak to pedal as I needed to. I got passed by a few more hard-core guys and asked one of them to go tell "the group near the bright blue Audi" where I was. I knew that HH would be really concerned about me, so at least then he'd know where I was and that I was still slogging away.

This is where that thought process from the beginning came in. I was stuck out there. I didn't have any choice but to keep moving forward, soaking wet, pushing my bike through the mud and stopping every 30 feet or so to push the mud out of where it was clogging my bike's fork and making it even more difficult to push.

But, oh, it turns out I wasn't stuck out there! For, behold, I saw headlights coming toward me! And then they disappeared. I thought maybe they'd sent someone out for stragglers, but then I started thinking maybe it was a farmer who was checking his ditches. But then the headlights came back, a guy in a parka on a 4-wheeler, with another woman on the front, holding her bike. There wasn't enough room for me to climb on with my bike, but it didn't take more than, oh, .2 seconds for me to decide to leave my bike there and climb on for a ride home.

I was a little bummed at giving up, especially since if I'd made it another 50 yards through the field, I would have been on a relatively flat dirt road for the rest of the ride, maybe 2 miles. I totally could have done that! But since I didn't know how much further I had to go, and I was both chilled and exhausted, I knew I needed to get a ride back in.

Just as I expected, my wonderful husband was waiting at the official tent when we pulled in, and as soon as I hopped off, he took off my helmet and backpack, wrapped me in his sweatshirt and then took me back to our camp, helped peel my wet clothes off and wrapped me up in his sleeping bag. I spent about an hour in the tent, with both dogs snuggling up to me (aside: Migo won the prize for world's best dog, as he was obviously very concerned about my well-being and literally wrapped himself around me until I started moving again), just trying to stop my heart from racing and my body from shivering uncontrollably.

After that, I heated up some ribs over our campfire for dinner, then HH helped me pack up my car and I drove back into town for a good night's rest in a warm, dry bed. It rained all night, but the 4 guys stuck around and ate the free midnight pancake feed, slept some in a more-or-less dry tent, ate some more pancakes and then packed up and came home. HH JUST finished washing all the mud off of our cars, bikes and everything else that was out there.

So the moral of the story: Contrary to the proverb, slow and steady doesn't necessarily win the race ... in fact, slow and steady doesn't even necessarily finish the race. But 4-wheelers, my husband and my dogs? All awesome.

Would I do it again next year? We'll see. I'd have to make sure a) I'm in much better shape, and b) I'd be checking the weather report.

melt-in-your-mouth shrimp

This is a shrimp recipe that I've had in my head ever since my mom and I spilled a HUGE bowl full of it (in raw form) all over her living room stairs, and then Bailey (their Boston Terrier) ate a bunch of the garlic and then puked it all up.

But this is a story for a happier day, a beautiful Friday evening when I threw the shrimp into a marinade while I did some other stuff, and then I cooked up a pot of a funny mix of Israeli couscous, some sort of mini garbanzo bean, some orzo and a miniature quinoa (a mix from TRADER JOE'S that someone gave me -- oh, happy day to have something from TJ's in my kitchen), sauteed some kale in garlic and soy sauce, and cooked on the grill the shrimp along with some zucchini fingers and more kale that I'd doused in the shrimp marinade just for fun.

Are you ready for the secret to the most amazing shrimp? Here it is:

1 part olive oil
1 part soy sauce
1 part sherry
a bunch of chopped garlic

If you're only doing shrimp for two, like I did tonight (plus the zucchini and kale), less than 1/4 cup each is more than enough. Marinade the shrimp for maybe 30 minutes, then throw them on a medium-heat grill (I have one of those grill grates, so small stuff doesn't fall through) for just a couple of minutes. Don't overcook the shrimp because they get tough. But oooh, after cooking them on the grill, these babies seriously melt in your mouth. Seriously! Do you believe me yet? Then you'll just have to try them for yourself!

Since I'd made too much marinade, I thought I'd give the zucchini a try, and it was great, too! I cut it into strips, soaked it for maybe 5 minutes, and threw it on at the same time as the shrimp. In the future, I think the zucchini will need to go on a few minutes earlier.

I also wanted to see if I could replicate kale chips on the grill. Can't remember if I've blogged about them before, but they're kind of fun and pretty healthy (google 'em; you'll find plenty of recipes). Just take bite-sized pieces of kale, brush on a seasoning (I used italian dressing before; this time it was the shrimp marinade) and grill for a couple of minutes. Don't let them burn or they're kind of nasty and bitter; but nicely-crisped, they make a fun garnish or appetizer.

Final step: linger over dinner and a glass of wine in the back yard while the sun is fading with the love of your life (or other company of choice).

On Love, for real this time

First of all, can I just say how great life feels right now? I'm sitting with my feet up, a grapefruit cake in the oven, about to enjoy my mom's amazing halibut tacos at my parents' house with some in-laws as well, I'm sipping a glass of wine, looking out at the world -- as far as the Beartooth Mountains -- that has that certain beauty that it only has just after the rain, appreciating the fact that I wasn't IN the rain, which we narrowly avoided because we were biking home and got inside just as it started to pour. Upon further reflection, I'm even more thankful that I have a husband who basically built me a commuter bike (based on one he bought at Goodwill for $10) and who is loving enough to challenge me to do the riding, but patient enough to go my (slow) pace and just smile warmly at all my whining! And all that exercise feels so good.

But that's not what this post is about.

What I've been thinking about is actually from a conversation that HH and I had a few weekends ago. It was prompted by a devotional book that we were given for our wedding. It's a decent book, but there are just enough pop-psychology and man-centered views in it that the great conversations we have as a result of the devo aren't generally prompted by his discussion questions but rather by our critiques of his theology.

In this particular devotion, he was talking about how our spouses need to feel needed. So I need to know that HH needs me in this relationship and appreciates what I contribute without placing conditions on me. If I don't feel adequately needed, then something is missing from the equation in our marriage.

To a certain extent, this is true. It's not going to be much of a relationship if we're not taking the time to acknowledge one anothers' contributions and to be vulnerable enough to be reliant on the other person.

But, as Ed Welch has so brilliantly pointed out, this can be a flawed and dangerous mindset if we're depending on the other person to fill our proverbial love cup. Because my love cup leaks, and HH will never be able to do enough to fill my cup. (As an aside, we like to joke that Migo has a leaky love cup, but since he's a labrador retriever whose sole purpose in life is basically to love and be love, I think that's okay. He's more like a love pool, where everyone's just supposed to jump in and get soaked.)

So we had a great conversation about where finding security and strength in one another needs to end, and where finding our ultimate strength and security in God needs to begin. It's going to create problems for even the best of relationships if I'm trying to root my identity in the fact that my husband needs or wants me.

A few days ago, this theme was revived when I was reading Tullian Tchividjian's blog, a post called Loved Forevermore. He also raised the point that when we look at our homes as a place of finding love, we are always going to be disappointed, not to mention protective, defensive and bitter. But when we see our homes as an opportunity to extend love to others, that's when we can have a joyous relationship that doesn't even necessarily *need* to be reciprocal.

And where do we get this love that we share in our homes? That's what the gospel is all about -- God, in his boundless love, has loved us forevermore. And because of his love, we are able to freely love others. Without condition, without needing anything in return.

I'd so much rather feel a desperate dependence on God's love than on my husbands; and I'll be better at loving both of them for it.

on Love

“[A]ctive love is a harsh and fearful reality compared with love in dreams.”
- Fyodor Dostoevsky

I have some more thoughts on "love" floating around in my head and either haven't had time to put them down, or blogger hasn't been cooperating when I have had the time. So that's all you get for now; perhaps more later. But that should be enough for now.

(quote comes from a blog post in First Things that I actually haven't read much of, but had to give credit where credit is due)

Avocado-Grapefruit Pork Burgers

Yeah, sorry, this is another food post. But it's so unique and fun and tasty that I wanted to share. We had it for dinner tonight and 4 out of 5 people agreed that it was very good. (Person #5 doesn't like grapefruit, so he opted to put ketchup on his burger. His loss!)

This comes from a Rachel Ray magazine; I couldn't find the recipe on her website, which means it's either buried under all the other burger recipes or it's so new she hasn't posted it yet. Anyway:

Avocado-Grapefruit Pork Burgers
serves 4

2 grapefruits
3 Tablespoons basalmic vinegar
2 tsp honey
1 bunch scallions
1 avocado, thinly sliced
1 pound ground pork
1/2 tsp onion powder
salt
2 T butter
4 onion rolls, split (we used regular, light wheat hamburger buns)

1. Slice off the ends of each grapefruit and place the cut side down on a cutting board. Slice off the peel and pith. Working over a bowl, make a cut on either side of each segment to release it from the membrane into the bowl. Squeeze the remaining juice into a saucepan; add the vinegar and honey and simmer over medium high heat until syrupy. Add to the grapefruit sections.

2. Meanwhile, preheat a grill pan to medium-high. Add the scallions and cook until slightly charred; cool and thinly slice. Add the scallions and avocado to the grapefruit sections.

3. Preheat a grill pan to medium. In a bowl, combine the pork and onion powder; season with salt. Shape into 4 patties. Grill the patties, turning once, until cooked, about 8 minutes.

4. Meanwhile, spread the butter on the rolls and grill until toasted. Place a patty on each roll and bottom. Top with the grapefruit-avocado salad and the roll tops.

(We grilled both the scallions and the burgers on an outdoor grill.)

UPDATE: My father-in-law pointed out that I had omitted an important "R" in the title and was thus advertising Pork Bugers. Which is German for "booger" if you add a the umlaut over the "u." Just kidding! Bad wannabe-linguist humor. In reality, Buger is either a region in Iran or an island municipality in Spain. Guess it depends on where you want to go, but somehow I suspect that this pork came from somewhere closer to home.