Adventures in Gardening

One lovely Sunday afternoon in May, my sweet boyfriend drove five hours each way and built me a garden.

The summer of 2014 will now be remembered as the summer I learned whether my thumb was black or green.

So far, I think it's a success.  I'll let the pictures do the talking.

So far I've only come across two problems:

1) My summer squash plants keep dying when they are about two inches long.  I figured out today that it'd because the male flowers are not pollinating the female flowers.  That's what I get for killing the bee's nest on my front porch.  I did a little research on pollinating by hand and I'm doing to try that tomorrow morning when the blooms are open.

2) My skin is definitely sensitive or allergic to something in the garden.  I think it is more of an irritation, but I've been taking lots of benadryl and using hydrocortisone cream on my arms.  I guess this could be easily solved by wearing long sleeves and gloves, but it is so darn hot outside.  I wish I could figure out what plant so I could avoid growing it next year.

I'll update my three readers soon on how the hand pollination goes!

Jesus Feminist: My Humble (and Slightly Pathetic) Attempt at a Review

I am participated in Jon Acuff's "Empty Shelf 2014".  Basically, you clear a shelf off one of your bookshelves and fill it with books you read in 2014.

I finished my first book Tuesday night: Jesus Feminist, by Sarah Bessey.

My thoughts and emotions were all over the place during this read.  Part of the reason is that for most of the book, I wasn't sure what the ultimate purpose of the book was and I couldn't decide if I liked the author or if I agreed at all.

First, here were my reservations before reading.
1) I wasn't sure where she was going to go with the feminist thing.
2) I have some serious issues with the theology and practices of a few of the church leaders who endorsed this book.
3) Sarah Bessey is one of those bloggers turned Christian living writers and, frankly, though they are good writers, their books are often overly sappy and the chapters are disjointed as if they are separate blog posts. (Side note: I think this concern was warranted.  The chapters did not flow well and I did not understand the primary argument of the book until about page 170 of 190. It was a frustrating read in that sense.)

And, to be fair, what I was hoping to find in the book:
1) The secondary heading after the title is "Exploring God's Radical Notion that Women are People, Too" -- I could tell she has a good sense of sarcasm and I wanted to hear her perspective.
2) I think there are many churches that overly limit the role of women and expect women to be flighty, stupid, and of little importance to the body of Christ.  More writers should be calling attention to this injustice.

Now for my thoughts having read the book:
For nearly all of the first chapter, I was right there with the author, saying "Amen" in my head.  You see, you don't have to look far in the Bible to know that God cares deeply about women.  Eve was created, and he called her "good".  God met Hagar in the wilderness and gave her water and a promise -- He saw her.  Just read the gospel of Luke and you will see Jesus tenderly showing love and grace to women over and over.  And you don't have to look far to understand that God doesn't have limits on what women are able to do.  Deborah was judge over Israel - a woman leading a nation judicially, politically, militarily, spiritually.... Mary Magdalene was the first to testify of a resurrected Christ at a time when a woman's testimony could not be admitted in court.  Yes, clearly God does think that women are people, too.

"Your sons and daughters shall prophesy..."

"There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus."

So, as I got toward the end of Chapter 1, I was getting kind of excited.  And then, Bessey switched gears and threw out any sense of logic in her argument.  She writes, "The women of the gospel narrative ministered to Jesus, and they ministered with him.  The lack of women among the twelve disciples isn't prescriptive or a precedent for exclusion of women any more than the choice of twelve Jewish men excludes Gentile men from leadership."

Ummmm, excuse me, but what the what???

I'm not even going to get into the argument of whether or not women should be pastors and the head of local churches, because, honestly, though Bessey often hints that this is what she believes, she never lays out an argument for this and, by the time I got to the end of the book, I realized the issue of women pastors is not really what the book is about.  However, I found the above statement so contrary to what I believe to be accurate (and absurd, quite frankly) that I got a little angry and put the book down for a week.

I believe in the absolute sovereignty of a loving God.  I believe Jesus is the exact representation of His Father, and therefore is sovereign, omnipotent, omniscient.  If, in His perfect wisdom, He believed that some women should have been part of the twelve disciples or of the first apostles, I believe he would have called them.  He was not sitting around helplessly thinking, "I need to announce my inner circle today but all the women are off doing laundry.  This is terrible.  I really wanted Beth and Sally on my team.  I guess I'll just have to add some more guys."

That could not possibly be what happened.  Jesus chose the twelve intentionally, and if I believe that, I must believe the reverse -- he did not choose others equally intentionally.  It was not an oversight.  That's all I'm saying about that.

The rest of the book goes on to talk about Bessey's own experiences in the church, both positive and negative.  I got the sense, after a while, that she has been deeply hurt by the church and writes as one wounded, but longing for it all to be redeemed.  Reading some of the stories in the book made me want that, too.  At times, the tone of her plea sounded a whole lot like, "We just want our place at the table," which drives me crazy, but I think part of that is her extremely sentimental and poetic writing style.  For example, there is one whole chapter that talks about her labor and delivery experiences and how they were so beautiful and ugly and painful and joyous that the were defining moments in her relationship with God.  Then, she states that there should be more sermons about childbirth and motherhood.....this isn't theology, more just a personal preference, but I do not want it at all, especially if they are as graphic as her story.

So, what is a Jesus Feminist?  Well, when she finally got around to telling us, at the end of the book.  To be a Jesus Feminist is to fight for justice, to bring restoration.  To not leave one hurt unhealed.  To, in the words of Isaiah, "proclaim good news to the poor, bind up the brokenhearted, proclaim freedom for the captives, and release from darkness for the prisoners, to comfort all who mourn, bestow on them beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning, praise instead of despair."

After listing many painful statistics about women and children throughout the world and here in the United States, Bessey concludes, "One needn't identify as a feminist to participate in the redemptive movement of God for women in the world. The gospel is more than enough. Of course it is! But as long as I know how important maternal health is to Haiti's future, and as long as I know that women are being abused and raped, as long as I know that girls are being denied life itself through selective abortion, abandoned and abused, as long as brave little girls in Afghanistan are attacked with acid for a crime of going to school, and until being a Christian is synonymous with doing something about these things, you can call me a feminist."

Amen.  Call me one, too.

More

Many of my Facebook friends are writing what they are thankful for each day this month.  It is a beautiful thing.  I participated last year but decided not to this year (really only because I am so overwhelmed right now that I'm sure I'd miss days and then feel ungrateful and I don't want to feel like I've failed at yet another thing).

This blog post is my substitute, I guess.  In January I decided my theme for the year would be "gratitude" and I've spent the past 11 months working on recording all of the "gifts" I've received.  For inspiration, read Ann Voskamp's 1000 Gifts.  It's a moving book.

There is so much I thank the Lord for this year.  The first is my mother.  In the past month, I watched a friend from college walk through the pain of losing her mom.  Another is watching hers slip away to glory...too soon.  I am so grateful that I have my mom, HERE.  I don't call or even text her every day but I could.  And sometimes a girl just needs her mom.

I am thankful to be sharing this senior year with students I've spent every day with for four years.  It is a joy to look back at how far they've come and celebrate where they will be next year.

I am grateful for the man who's come into my life this year and loved me so well.

There's so much more.

Can I just say that I am thankful for the word "more"?

Let me explain.

As I was walking Finn a few weeks ago I had a beautiful moment of revelation.  I admired the autumn leaves -- the blaze of color covering the mountains around our small town -- and stood in awe of the beauty and majesty of creation.

The words of Scripture came to my mind..

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge..."

I thought of the flowers and each beautiful, tender bloom.  I thought of the sparrow and how He knows every time it takes off and every time it lands.  He cares so deeply...

How much more?

It's become my second favorite phrase in all of Scripture (the first is "But God", which will need it's own post).  His death and resurrection is enough.  His forgiveness would have been enough.  Just take away the punishment Lord and let me barely into your kingdom.  It's already too much mercy.

But no.  He gives more.  so. much. more.

"Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them.  And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?

"Consider how the wild flowers grow.  They do not labor or spin.  Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you...!

"Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom."

And I looked again at the beautiful trees, alive with my favorite colors - red, yellow, orange, maroon (sorry, had to).  I suddenly realized that this beauty, this season I long for each year, is a sign of death.  That tree is shedding its leaves to "die" for a time.  He gives them dignity.  Their "death" brings Him glory.  Beauty in suffering.

How much more?

"If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him."

So much more.  More than I deserve.

Need more proof?  Read all of Romans 5.  Here's a peak: "For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned that one man, how much more will those who receive God's abundant provision of grace and the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!"

More.

Do you think it's fair to say that this is the anthem of heaven? He is King. He is Life. He gives More.

And I will praise Him.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever!"

Celebrating Fall

I'm taking a break today from serious posts to bring  you some Halloween cheer.

First, a recipe!  I made these pumpkin scones on Sunday and have been snacking on them all week (not the most healthy, but you could do a lot worse in the baked goods category).

They are a perfect accompaniment to hot cider, coffee or milk.

Ingredients:

2 cups flour

1/3 cup sugar

1 Tablespoon baking powder

1 Tablespoon cinnamon

1 stick cold butter, cubed

2/3 cup pumpkin

1/4 cup half-and-half, plus a little more

Optional add-ins: 1/2 cup chopped walnuts, craisins, chocolate chips, cinnamon chips....whatever you want.

Stir together flour, sugar, baking powder and cinnamon in a medium sized bowl.  Cut in butter with a pastry blender.  In a small bowl, combine pumpkin and half-and-half.  Stir pumpkin mixture into dry ingredients until combined.  You may need to add a little more half-and-half at this point so it isn't too dry.  Then add any extras.  This time, I used 1/2 cup chopped walnuts and 1/2 cup cinnamon chips and loved it.

Pat into an 8 inch square on a floured surface, then cut into 16 triangles.  Transfer to a baking sheet and bake at 400 for 20 minutes. 

I plan to make these again this week with walnuts and craisins.  Also going to try it with granulated splenda instead of sugar...hopefully that doesn't ruin it!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I will be dressed as WonderWoman, hoping that at least a few trick-or-treaters stop by.  I have only had 2 in the past three years.  

Last night we had our Young Life Capernaum  Halloween party.  It was an absolute blast!  Here is a glimpse of the games we played. 

The Price

"I'm going to pay you back," she whispers, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

She looks so young. So afraid. So broken. And yet, so determined.

She clenches her fists and swings her legs nervously.  And we continue to sit in the corner of the waiting room.

We're an unlikely pair, K and I.  As I watch her, I think back on the two and half years of history that have led us to this doctor's office in Fishersville, and everywhere I see fingerprints of Grace.

Clearly HE knew this day would come. Maybe she is the reason He brought me here. And while this story is still very much unfinished, I believe that this moment is the answer to the question I have asked night after lonely night: Why, Lord? Why did you bring me here?

K has been one of my students from the beginning.  Her ninth grade year was marked by fights (including one that will forever be a school legend) and girl drama.  As a brand new counselor, I probably didn't handle most of my interactions with her as well as I should.  To be honest, I don't remember any conversation we had that year.  I just have an impression that she was a challenge and I wasn't ready.

I guess her sophomore year was a little better.  I say that because I don't remember any incidents, not because it was actually a good year for her. I just know she failed a couple classes and then stopped by one day during summer school and said she wanted to graduate early.

One year ago we did not have a relationship.  I'm not sure I even liked her. I remember praying one day and asking for help in connecting with her and loving her.

The prayer worked.

K and I began to see a little more of each other once this past school year started.   One day during her lunch period she stopped in my office and asked if she could leave her backpack in my office while she ran an errand. I was a little confused but I agreed.  She came back at the end of the period and I asked where she went. "I was visiting my mom in jail."

Oh.

It became a weekly routine.  She stopped by, dropped off her backpack, and headed up to the jail, which, for those of you not familiar with Rockbridge County, is literally across the street from the high school.  When she returned from her visits, I made a point to be available and always asked how her mom was doing and how she was.  This continued for several months, until her mother was released.

Fast forward to early December.  I looked up from my paperwork and there she was. Eyes red from weeping. I asked what was wrong and the tears started again.  After a while came the words, "I'm pregnant."

And then, there we were, twenty weeks later -- after a long, difficult process of obtaining insurance and a health care provider that was much, much harder than it should have been -- in the waiting room, about to see a miracle.  When we walked it I thought we'd made it through the hard part; it'd be smooth sailing from here.  I knew she had no money and was too proud to ask her estranged parents for help so I was prepared to cover what I assumed would be a $25/30 copay.  I only half listened to the office manager but suddenly came to upon hearing, "It will be $180 for today."  

Ouch.

I'm certainly not poor by any means, but an unplanned $180 expense hurts.  K looked at me and turned to the door, "Well I guess we're not seeing the doctor today."  In a split second, I pulled out my credit card and handed it to the woman.  I grabbed K's arm, "We're not going anywhere."

I finished paying in silence and we made our way to the corner of the waiting room.  She began to cry.  I wanted to join her.  This is so much more than I bargained for, I thought to myself.  Please, Lord, help me love her in this moment.  

"You shouldn't have done that, Ms. Mock.  It's not fair.  That is way too much money to spend on me.  I'm not worth that much.  I'm going to pay you back."

Oh, sweet girl.  You can't.  

The words tumbled out. "You're right, K.  It's not fair, but not for the reason you think.  It's not fair that you're here right now without your mom or your dad.  It's not fair that you even know that this appointment costs $180 and that you're the one paying for it.  It's not fair that the only person in your life willing to drive you to this appointment is your school counselor.  It's not fair that you don't have anyone to fight for you.  It's not fair that you don't know that you are worth it - that I would pay even if it was $500.  You are worth it."

The tears fell freely now.  I wrapped my arms around her and my tears mixed with her own.

You are worth it.

"I'm going to pay you back," she said again.  "I'll give you a dollar a week if I have to."

That would take you almost four years....I thought.  Even as I thought it, I knew I would never see that money again, and that it was okay.  Redemption comes at a price.

How many times in my Christian walk have I said to God, "I'm going to pay you back" when in truth the price of my salvation is infinitely greater than I could ever repay?  How many times do I think I can somehow earn points by doing good deeds or making some sacrifice when in reality it would never, ever work?

"What shall I return to the Lord for all his goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord.  I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of all his people." (Psalm 116:12-14)

How shall I repay him?  I will praise Him. I will exalt His name and tell others what He has done for me.  And I will call on Him again and again so that He goodness is again revealed.  As John Piper writes "The psalmist's answer to his own question, 'What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits?' is, in essence, that will go on receiving from the Lord so that the Lord's inexhaustible goodness will be magnified."

Why do I tell you this story?  Because on April 8, 2013, I understood the cost of my freedom in a way I never had before. I realized how greatly it cost the Father, but also how "worth it" it was to Him.  And I learned that the best response is to humbly receive and give thanks.

Months have passed since that landmark day...the day I saw grace in a whole new way and K saw her precious baby girl for the first time.

K graduated in May and I continued to take her to her OB appointments.  Then, on August 12, I got to be there for this.

Aniya Hope.

Precious girl, you and your mommy are worth any price.

How can I say thanks for the things You have done for me?

Things so undeserved, yet You gave to prove Your love for me;

The voices of a million angels could not express my gratitude

All that I am and ever hope to be, I owe it all to Thee

To God be the glory, to God be the glory

To God be the glory for the things He hath done

With His blood, He has saved me

With His power, He has raised me

To God be the glory for the things He hath done

Just let me live my life, let it be pleasing, Lord, to Thee

And if I gain any praise, let it go to Calvary...