Lessons from Bread Baking

I am not one for New Years resolutions, but 2 years ago I resolved to conquer yeast breads.  Fast forward to this year, and it still hadn’t happened.  But, we had received a sourdough starter for Christmas, and now I had no excuse!  So, this new year has become all about bread.  Little did I know it would evolve into such a spiritual experience.

I found myself intrigued with the word yeast, and found this definition: “a pervasive influence that modifies something or transforms it for the better.”  

So, what else can we learn from a little yeast?  Here are some Godly reminders I have learned from my bread making experiences so far…

1)  You need to make the time.   Bread does not happen quickly.  I have actually blocked out one day a week for making bread.  It has become a kind of sabbath day.  This is my reminder that we need to make the time for God, it will not just happen.

2) You need to be patient.  My biggest challenge.  Most of bread baking is waiting around for something to happen.  This is my reminder that  things happen in GOD’s time, not mine.

3) You need to be steadfast.  This challenges me in the kneading process.  Kneading activates the gluten, and you need to keep doing this for way longer than you think (also -  its a great workout for your arms...or your dough hook!).  Kneading gives the dough texture, form and stability.  You work it until it stretches to the point of almost breaking - but not quite.  This is my reminder of how God works in us.  He takes our lives, and works thru us and shapes us.  Sometimes, he pushes to the point of almost breaking – but not quite.  This is my reminder that God is steadfast, and is always with us no matter what we are going through.  He is always working in me for his good.

4)  You learn something new each time.  I have been re-making the same few recipes of bread.  Every time I learn something new.  I notice the texture of the dough and can better estimate when its ready.  I note the environment I provide for the rise and what makes a difference.  This is my reminder that God’s word is always alive and can impart teaching on my heart.  I can read the same verse 20 times, and it can speak to me 20 different ways depending on that day and what is happening in my life.

5)  Every loaf is different - the shape, the taste, the texture.  Not one is ever the same.  This is my reminder that God made me a unique individual with unique gifts to use for his Kingdom.  

6)  At a certain point, you have to wait and trust the dough will rise.  This is my reminder that faith is the evidence of things unseen.  The work of the yeast is hidden, just as the seed in the ground is unseen, but it is still working toward its end.  We may not know what God has in store for us, but we can have faith that he is working it out for his good.

7)  Baking bread is a discipline of wonder.  Bread is a kind of miracle.  It takes ordinary ingredients and makes something extraordinary.  My reminder that God uses ordinary people like you and me for extraordinary things.

Holy God, thank you for the wondrous reminders you give us in the most simple things.  We praise you for being our daily bread, our sustenance, and our life.  May we live our lives with the confidence that you are working in and thru us, even when the path is unseen.  In your precious name we pray, Amen.

A return trip to Guatemala!

 I was standing in a classroom last summer and noticed the writing on the chalk board.  These kids were learning multiplication.  It could have been any class room in the United States.  Small desks, numbers on the board. But this was Guatemala.

• This school had a dirt floor.
• This school had gaps in the walls that allowed windy drafts to blow through all day long.
• This school had a tin roof that reverberated every single sound.
• This school had not a single electrical outlet.
• This school was built by donations of one piece of wood by each family that were nailed together.

With generous donations, willing hands and feet,  and hearts of hope, we are working toward transforming the educational environment for the village of Twi'Ninwitz.  Already, the first of eight classrooms that we worked on last summer is in use.  The 2nd and 3rd classrooms are almost done.  This summer we will be returning to work on classrooms #4 and possibly #5.  God is good!

As Kim and I plan to return to Guatemala this summer, we are seeking support to fund the school in Twi’ninwitz.  Just a small amount can make a huge difference in the lives of these children.  Not only are we giving them a building, but we are fostering hope for their future.  We’d love for you to join us in the effort by supporting this worthy project!  You can donate directly to our fundraising page here http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/christpresbyterian/guatemala2015 .  You can read more about what we did last year, and even watch a video of our trip at our trip’s website:    http://www.missiontrip.cpcfairfax.org/

Thank you for your generosity!

School Room #1 ready for action!

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be

 compassionate and humble. 

1 Peter 3:8

I’ve never considered the word “compassionate ” as a word that really describes me, especially when it comes to interactions with the homeless.  Having lived in urban environments, I had become desensitized and cynical toward the homeless population.  I was the one who walked right by and ignored them.  I‘m not proud of that, but that’s how it was.  And for most of my adult life that was OK with me. I was led in other areas in my Christian journey, while others were led to work with the homeless. We all have different gifts, right?

Then about 3 years ago, I was driving thru Richmond and was stopped at a light.  There was a man on the corner.  He passed my car and I stared straight ahead.  After the man had already passed my car, I was, quite frankly, overcome by shame.  I was in Richmond at a conference for  Christian Education. We had spent the morning discussing ways to show God's love.  UM.  Hypocrite??  After a brief hesitation, I rolled down my window and called over to him to come back.  I looked him square in the eye and said, “I can’t do anything for you long-term but pray.  And I will pray that you find a way to a better situation.”  Then I shoved a wad of bills in his hand and the light turned green.  I realized as I drove away that I never got his name.  But I have been praying for “the man on the corner” ever since.

I think, in hindsight, that was the beginning of the softening of my hardened heart.  Over the next few years, God would put people on my path, and each time the encounter was burned into my heart’s memory.  I actually wrote about it numerous times on my blog - and only recently when I went back to re-read some of it, did I realize how often this was happening (here, here, here and here).  Each encounter left me wondering how I could have handled it better and prompted ideas for next time.   Funny enough, when that “next time” came, I did handle it better…baby steps over many years.  Here is a brief chronology of some of my more memorable experiences:

• I was approached in a strip mall parking lot by a woman who needed a place to live.  I was caught so off guard I quickly got into my car and drove away - but found myself wishing I had thought to get her some coffee at Panera, or maybe offered to call a local shelter on her behalf.  I went back to look for her but she was no longer there.
• I had a random conversation at a light with woman homeless by choice because no shelter would let her in with cats, cats who had stayed with her long after her human family abandoned her.
• I helped serve the homeless a meal two years ago at a hypothermia shelter.  Volunteers are encouraged to sit and share a meal with the guests.  I felt so awkward as I sat and chatted with a woman who told me “she did not have a name”.  I served again with the same group just a few weeks ago.  I was amazed at the change in myself after two years - how comfortable and at ease I felt sitting and sharing a meal with a group of homeless people.  We talked about books, movies.  Some told jokes.  I saw how they cared for each other.  I learned a lot from them.
• Last spring I rolled down my window and chatted with a man.  His name is DJ Collins.  After 2 years of random encounters with “a man on the corner” and “the woman with cats” and “the woman with no name”…I finally had remembered to ask the homeless person for their name. I asked him his story.  I told him I would pray for him. I was struck upon driving way that I wanted to do more.  I turned around and was going to take him to lunch.  But he was no longer there.  Several months later I saw him in the same spot.  I was about to go thru the drive thru at Chick fil a.  I told him I would get him something and be right back.  I gave him a chicken sandwich, waffle fries and a drink.  As I was leaving, I saw him behind a hedge of bushes, devouring that meal.  I remember being struck by how hungry he was.  Now I actually look for him, and call him by name when I see him.
• There is a woman who frequents the Christian bookstore - cause, yes, hanging out in front of the Christian bookstore, you hope folks are a bit more generous.  I have run into her since in several other parking lots.  One time I was with my kids and rolled down my window and asked her what bible book she was reading.  She always had a bible with her.  I didn’t give her any money, and my kids probably thought I had gone crazy.
• Joseph is my latest friend.  I actually saw him all summer, on a median by an intersection near my house.  For some reason, I never felt led to roll down my window.  That nudge of the Spirit was not there.  Then, about 2 weeks ago, I felt it.  That not so subtle hint.  I literally had no cash on me, but I rolled down my window, asked his name and told him I would pray that his situation improved.  It was a long light.  I asked him his story.  He said these days they just try to stay warm.  One week later I was entering Panera to get bread.  Joseph was outside with his sign, and with him a friend (Christopher).  I called him by name and remembered I had nothing to give him when I last saw him.  SO, I got him and his friend (married with 3 kids) gift cards to Panera when I bought my bread.  I told them to use it on those colder days.  Not even a week later, Joseph was on the median again.  We talked for a few minutes.  I gave him a Starbucks gift card.  

SO, what does all this mean?  How did I get here?  I had always been well prepared with my excuses to not engage (he already passed my car, the kids are in the car, I am alone in the car, I’m running late, I don’t have anything to give).  Really, it barely bothered me that I kept passing them by. Until that day with that man on the corner in Richmond.  Subtlely, something changed.  Unbidden, and unbeknownst to me, God put on my heart a change in me.

So what would I tell people whose response is “Me too.  I never know what to say in those situations”??  Remember your ABCs.

• Acknowledge the Spirit  - You know that feeling when you get it.  Be open to it, and where it may lead you.
• Be Bold  - Just do it.  Roll down your window.  Just say hello.
• Choose Compassion - Trust God to give you the words to start the conversation.  You don’t have to be the savior for all their problems - you just have to acknowledge them as fellow humans.  You don’t need to even give them anything.  Ask them their name.   Say  “I can’t fix your situation but I will pray that it gets better”.  If you give them something, do it freely and without expectation of how it will be used.  Sometimes I give cash.  I have recently started giving gift cards for food places, and am thinking about just keeping a stash in car.  

In the end, its not so much about what you give or don’t give.  It’s about seeing that person as an equal.  It’s about taking that first step and just rolling down the window and asking their name.  

In search of one word....

Did you have fun?  Did you have a good time?  This is the most frequently asked question of me since we returned almost two weeks ago from Guatemala.  And I find myself increasingly frustrated trying to find an answer.   There is not one word that seems to really convey all that we experienced.

Members of our team were challenged at the end of each day to think about one word that would help them remember what they had experienced.  One word.  They could write in in their daily journal pack or they could write it on the "word wall" that we kept for the week.  Something to encompass the day.  But to have one word for the entire week is a bigger challenge.  These are just a few that come to mind - in no particular order:

Heart-wrenching 

Compelling

Powerful

Exhausting

Exhilarating 

Uplifting

Joyous

Bumpy

Nauseating

Convicting

Motivating

Enlightening

Delightful

Challenging

But even these seem inadequate.  Guess I will keep searching.

The day I took a homeless man to lunch. (almost)

It was, decidedly, a bizarre day.  I was already sporting a mighty-sized headache after an emotional morning.  But the seat in my car was loaded with returns, and I just wanted them gone.  With one stop done, I headed out to the next place on the list.  I pulled up to the light and came to a stop.  Eye to eye with the homeless man holding a sign about his current state.  I sighed.  My window was already open.  Seriously.  I flashed back to the previous times I have dealt with this - (and even written about it here and here).  I knew what I had to do.  or so I thought.  

I asked the man how he got to be in this place.  He admitted right off the bat he had gotten himself into some legal trouble was fresh out of jail.  The family he had in the area pretty much refused to acknowledge he existed.  He was clean enough and well spoken. He said he was looking for work.  I asked him what kind of skills he had.  He did day laborer jobs where he could find them, but lamented that no one wants to hire the guy that checks the box on the job application that admits conviction of a crime.  “I guess I need to lie to get a job”.  

Yes, all this took place while at a red light.  It’s a long light.  I told him I would pray for him.  He said he knew God was leading him in the right direction.  I was encouraged.  I gave him $20 bucks.  I asked him his name.  "DJ.  DJ Collins.”  

I drove away, glad to pray for DJ Collins.  I was so impressed with myself that I remembered to ask his name (when this has happened before, I have always forgotten to ask).  I was pleased at the “growth” I had shown since my last encounter of this kind.  You know.   Because it's all about me.

My next stop, ironically, was the bank.  And while sitting at the ATM, I could not get DJ out of my mind.  How easily I took greenbacks from the machine, replacing in a second what I had already handed over.  I found myself thinking about heading back across the street.  "Just give him the the rest" is what a voice was saying.  "CRAZY!” I said back!  SO, I didn’t go across the street.  I went to do my next return.  But, about half way there, the voice got louder. GO back.  GO take him to lunch.  GO find out his story.  My head was pounding - but so was my heart.  What kind of crazy idea is that?  Yes, let’s have this middle-aged mom in the mini-van  go pick up some random homeless guy and take him to Chili’s for lunch.  

Yet, somehow, my van made a u-turn and was heading back to DJ.  I had it all planned out.  To minimize the risk, we’d sit outside at the Chili’s with lots of public exposure.  I’d pay in cash.  Never tell him my last name.  Maybe I would have an idea for his employment. It would be great.

Alas, by the time I got back there , DJ was no where to be found.  Frankly, my heart kind of fell. I scoured the parking lots on both sides of the street to no avail. 

I have no idea what to make of this experience.  I am not that person who talks to strangers on the street - frankly, I spent years ignoring them when I lived in DC.  I don’t do things like this.  And yet, here I am disappointed that I missed out on a opportunity to have lunch with a homeless man.   Honestly, I wondered at some point today if aliens had taken over my brain and control of my car this afternoon.  The whole experience has left me feeling very unsettled.  Which usually means God is up to something and I’d better pay attention.

So, I will pray for DJ.  DJ Collins.

Mother and Daughter on a Mission

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good"  (I Cor. 12:4-7)

As a high school youth, I went on several mission trips.  I will never forget - the first trip was to a spot in Maine - we were quarantined for a few days because one of the participants got measles - unheard of at the time!  However, I also installed a faucet, used power tools and hung sheet rock - also previously unheard of at the time!  In the ensuing years our group traveled to western Pennsylvania and South Carolina.  I helped put a roof on a house, pushed wheel barrows full of cement for a sidewalk, and helped build the foundation of a home that would house a victim of Hurricane Hugo.  It's been 25 years and the memories from these trips are still vivid in my mind.  I remember the elderly woman who did not have running water - and the mostly toothless smile she gave us when we turned on the faucet in her new bathroom.  I remember the small child who ran around the Habitat for Humanity worksite while his parents worked with us side-by-side on the house that would some day be their own.  They were life changing moments - faith in action that led to a leap in spiritual growth with every trip.  We were young and unskilled in every way imaginable - yet God still used us for the "common good".

Twenty-six years later, my teen age daughter and I will take a slightly bigger leap and take the same Spirit of mission to a global level.  We are off to Guatemala in July with an intergenerational group of fellow church members to begin what will hopefully be a long-term relationship with the village of la Cumbre. As the world has changed, so has the need increased for us to seek opportunities to connect face-to-face with people in different countries.  Technological advances have brought us pictures of conditions in which many people "live", but the overload of information can de-sensitize us to those conditions.  

Last summer, one of the women at our church gave a sermon where she asked "Who is our neighbor?".  My hope is that, after Kimberly and I present our physical selves for service and mission for La Cumbre, we will be spiritually changed in a way that upon our return we can bear witness to others to an increase in compassion for our neighbors, both near and far.

We'd love to share our journey, so we'll be posting updates here as we prepare for our trip.  Perhaps Kimberly will guest blog!  In the meantime, you can see details of our trip, the organization we will partner with, and the fundraising goal our team is hoping to reach here

We'd love your support as we seek to follow where God is leading us!