Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Blueberry scones to chase the blues away

Used to the constant movement required to keep a household for a family of six moving smoothly, I found myself still.  Too still.  Not in a good way.  I enjoyed having the time to devote to God and study, but I began experiencing what I now believe to be a bit of homesickness.  Having never been away from my whole family for more than 8 days, the 18 I was gone seemed an eternity and was only bearable by the amazing friendships I was forming and spiritual growth and awareness I was immersed in.
So I found myself suddenly needing to express to this cohort of mine just what they were beginning to mean to me- and to work through how very much I missed the arms of my children and husband.  For me that was answered in one way: cook for them.  Feed my sheep, right?  So was feeding them, literally.  Our first Saturday I made them breakfast.  With many helping hands, we took over the kitchen on the second floor of Stub Hall and made Dutch Eggs with fresh fruit and homemade syrup, biscuits and sausage gravy, and blueberry scones.  While any hot meal would have been received well in my opinion, the scones took the grand prize- and they weren't even as good as I make at home.  Still, they fed something in each person there and they granted me a gentle and less weepy way of saying to my cohort, I care for you, thank you for being with me, thank you for accepting me, thank you for being who you are and loving me just as I am too.  Blueberry scones chased the blues away and gave me a great way to say Thank You.   Here is a pic from my home, of the scones and the recipe to follow.  Enjoy!

Blueberry Scones
Ingredients:
8 tbsp. (1 stick) unsalted butter, frozen whole
1½ cups (7½ oz.) fresh blueberries
½ cup whole milk
½ cup sour cream
2 cups (10 oz.) all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting the work surface
½ cup sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
2 tsp. baking powder
¼ tsp. baking soda
½ tsp. salt
1 tsp. finely grated lemon zest
2 tbsp. unsalted butter, melted
Directions:
Adjust an oven rack to middle position and preheat to 425˚ F.  Grate the frozen butter on the holes of a large box grater.   Place the blueberries in the freezer until needed.
Whisk together the milk and sour cream in a medium bowl; refrigerate until needed.  Combine the flour, ½ cup sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and lemon zest in a medium mixing bowl.  Whisk to combine.  Add the grated butter to the flour mixture and toss with fingers until thoroughly coated.
Add the milk mixture to the dry ingredients and fold with a spatula just until combined.  Transfer the dough to a generously floured work surface.  Dust the top of the dough with flour, and knead with well floured hands, 6-8 times, just until the dough holds together in a ragged ball.  Add small amounts of flour as needed to prevent sticking.
Roll the dough into a 12-inch square.  Fold the dough into thirds like a business letter (a dough scraper really helps with these steps).  Fold the short ends of the dough into the center in thirds, to form an approximate 4-inch square.  Transfer the dough to a plate lightly dusted with flour and chill in the freezer for 5 minutes.
Return the dough to the floured work surface and roll into an approximately 12-inch square again.  Sprinkle the blueberries evenly over the surface of the dough, and gently press down so that they are slightly embedded in the dough surface.  Using a dough scraper, roll the dough up to form a tight log.  Lay the log seam side down and press the the log into a 12 by 4-inch rectangle.  Using a sharp, floured knife, cut the rectangle crosswise into 4 equal rectangles.  Cut each rectangle diagonally to form 2 triangles.  Transfer to a parchment lined baking sheet.
Brush the tops of the scones with melted butter and sprinkle lightly with sugar.   Bake until the tops and bottoms are golden brown, 18-25 minutes.  Transfer to a wire rack and let cool at least 10 minutes before serving.
Source: adapted from Entertaining from Cook’s Illustrated, Spring 2009

Re-integration. Unnecessary if you didn't have a profound experience.

Reintegration:verb;  To make or be made into a whole again; to amalgamate or help amalgamate with an existing community.

Reintegration is unnecessary if you don't feel separated right?  But, if you have a profound experience in life, it can make you feel a bit 'out of touch' with your daily life for a while- and when you return to that life and have to live it day in and out, you experience the joys and struggles of reintegration.

Some argue that a Distributed/Distance Learning Model (DL) program cannot possibly create community, a sense of belonging, a deep and spiritual experience.  No way.  Just not possible- especially in 2 weeks at a time in person on campus.  Let me tell you I am going to SHATTER that belief.

Reintegration is the word I see bandied about on facebook by my cohort- CH 5 of Luther Seminary's Master of Divinity Distributed Learning (DL) program.  Now I would ask you, if it was not possible for them to experience a deeply moving and spiritual January Intensives Program, why would that word be in constant use right now?  Why would there be tears upon bidding these new friends goodbye.  How deep could a friendship grow in 2 weeks, really?  Why would there be a need to continue to reach out?  Because the belief that a DL program cannot provide this is UNTRUE.  Period.  Allow me to explain.

There is a phenomenon noted by the mental and behavioral health sciences  and seen in military families.  It is the manner and speed with which they integrate into a new social circle upon arrival at a new assignment.  They do not know these folks, they do not have any special tools to help them.  The only thing noticeable to those observing this phenomenon is that it is persistently obvious among the military.  Read  more about this here.

A military child has a tendency to form lightening fast and gorge-deep friendships and bonds. They do this for many reasons.  First, they do not know how long they have there, but they know it is not long.  Second, they need a support system and cannot wait a year or two to form a normal-speed relationship or they will spend 1/2 to 1/3 of their lives without a geographically close support system.  They also do this out of shared experience that is life-changing.  Some could argue traumatic, at times, but life changing.  Ask any brat.  Ask the experts.  They will tell you there is definitely something amazing that happens and the friendships last lifetimes if given the opportunity to be maintained over the miles and years. 

How then does this apply to DL cohorts?  Are we traumatizing them with intensives?  Hardly.  Well... maybe a little- read my last blog post.  But all in all, we are putting them together in tight quarters with intense schedules and coursework that REQUIRES teamwork if they are to meet the assignment goals. It is not too far from the bonds created at camp- or better yet- Via de Cristo (Cursillo, Walk to Emmaus, etc) because GOD is a huge factor in it, along with shared faith.

 We are not speaking of regular college students here.  We are speaking to the few who have had their hearts moved to pursue Ministry as a lifetime commitment and JOB.  They come to this already having been through some very defining and refining moments in life.  They come from communities where they are not necessarily nested in faith. They may have a great home church and job, but they still live daily life away from campus, not surrounded by the swirl of residential seminary life.  Instead, they create, they build, they stoke, a hunger that is voracious for the 2 weeks they are there.  They literally gorge themselves on opportunity to attend chapel daily, shared devotions, shared meals with intense spiritual discussion and midnight sprints to complete homework due by 8 am.  They are sated only through the fact that they have no other distractions in this time.  They are able to focus wholeheartedly on what is in front of them, so they do- Intensely. 

Something magical happens.  They greet each other- strangers up to this point- with hugs!  They cry over  shared moments of awakening, discernment, sorrow, joy, and even finding coffee already made by someone else for them to share in.  It is called INTENSIVES for a reason-- they are feeling intensely, studying intensely, bonding intensely, missing family intensely, and seeking GOD intensely.  To doubt that this could not create community is to doubt that the Holy Spirit exists or that any of them are called.  That simple.

I wish I could share with you what happens- but I cannot yet.  This semester, I will team up with a fellow cohort to create a short video to give you a glimpse into our lives.  Stay tuned for it after June intensives.  In the meantime, set your doubt aside, and believe.  BELIEVE.  And pray- for us, to find a way to bring the most amazing 2 weeks of our lives into our  homes, communities, and home churches, so that you too will share in the intense joy. 







Wednesday, January 18, 2012

When acceptance becomes thankfulness

There is a difference you know, between acceptance and thankfulness.  I found the line of boundary today.  It left me in tears.  As sobs racked my body, and arms of fellow students covered me in care, as the voices raised in song to celebrate worship, I felt, believed, and KNEW the vast canyon of difference between the two.

I am no stranger to the Lord's Supper.  I love to serve communion, but I had only ever done it with the wine, never the bread.  Today I served the bread.  I broke off a portion and pressed it into open, seeking, hungry hands with pleading eyes poignantly and directly looking up into mine.

As thier eyes met mine, as I saw the desire and hunger to commune with our Lord, I was rocked.  Literally.  I started with using names when I could.  I have always thought that was so important- to really personalize the moment we commune with God, Jesus would have used our name too, right?  I got to the 3rd person whose name I knew and my throat began to lock up. Suddenly I realized that if I continued to personalize it this way I would burst into tears.  As I charged them with the bread and recognition of Christ's sacrifice, as I saw that they understood it- that I could SEE they were THERE in this moment, a rush of the Holy Spirit washed over me- almost pulling me under.  I could not breathe.  For a moment, I just stood- and took it in.  And then more hands were reaching out.

I have long ago accepted this call.  This past summer, I was even granted the opportunity to let any wistful sentiments of other professions go.  I am not only willing and accepting, but I do so with no reservations now.  This is what I am called to. Wonderful right?  Wouldn't we all hope that every pastor has come to that point?  Well I did.  And then I went past it- rushing, flooding, whirling and twirling past that safe place of acceptance.  Suddenly I found myself in a place where I was broken,  literally cracked open, vulnerable and very aware that I was.  In that moment, as I gasped for breath, a fullness resonated in me in a whole new way and I knew the name of this thing that had taken hold of me and flown away.   Thankfulness.  Yes, I found myself thankful to the point of tears that God has called me to this place, this time, this task. I am not just accepting, not just acquiescing.  Embracing this in a new way, and thankful.




Tortillas with oregano

The kitchen is not very well appointed, but amazingly they have a rolling pin.  Target has a cast iron skillet.  I can do this.
Beginning of week two into my intensives during January, I am missing my family and caring for them.  Not even realizing I am doing it, I pull out my classic coping mechanism.  Cooking.  I need to cook.  My cohort is missing home and family too.  Some to the point of tears, just like me. Others, we can just 'see' it.  And they need fed.  They need a mama, a way to feel they are being nurtured and protected.  So I cook.  Comfort food.  Today, it will be tortillas.  Warm, soft, light, flecked with oregano and slathered in butter, they are a mother's hug for me. And today, at the moment the cohort begin to trickle in and grab one for themselves, they are feeling hugged too- comforted.  In comforting them, I am filling the void.  I am feeding them, the way that God feeds us when we are hungry- hungry for love, food, passion, compassion, and encouragement. One cohort commented, we are literally breaking bread together.  Amen.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

In my Dorm...

There is a place within my dorm....
 where hot water for tea is endless
fellowship can be found while folding bluejeans
where I can go for silence, or noise.

Within my dorm are people who:
are living breathing thesauri
will offer me a beer from thier special stash at 2 am to chill in the  silence together
offer me hugs when my OCD is raging
make my southern accent very obvious
stop by my door every time they pass
think I can find the answer to anything
can take me to Super Target for tangerines and tampons

On my campus there is a place:
where I can cry or laugh or scream... and it is all okay
where I can wander stacks of books that full of ancient wisdom
where a cross stands for over a thousand years of Lutheran heritage in Norway
where food means fellowship as well as sustenance

And in our chapel I can see the face of God....
as I serve the body of Christ to my cohort
Faces upturned bring tears to my eyes
where every voice is that of an angel
and sermons are awe inspiring.