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Friday Favorites: The Rhubarb Edition.

14 Jun

Rhubarb has ruled the internet this week.

I think the leafy, tart plant might be plotting some sort of vegetable take over.

[Vegetable, right?]

On Pinterest, on Reader, on everything – it’s rhubarb, rhubarb, rhubarb.

Instead of fighting it, I join the coalition willingly.

In full disclosure, I have made none of these recipes.  But I have a bag of frozen rhubarb for which these recipes are fighting.  I’m not sure who will win but I’m fairly certain the result will be delicious.

Rhubarb Vanilla Bean Jam.  I love that this jam seems to be lower in sugar than most [I think].  Plus, I’m on board with vanilla bean anything.

Rhubarb Cream Cheese Hand Pies.  Nothing more needs to be said.  [Unless I should add that it’s from the smitten kitchen, a place from which all things lovely come.]

Drink your rhubarb with ideas and links from the kitchn.

And one more late edition from my twitter feed – strawberry rhubarb macarons.  How refined.

Also, if rhubarb isn’t so much your thing –

That’s all for now, folks.  Happy weekending.

a-punch-to-my-introvert’s-stomach.

5 Jun

“Pastor Lindsay seemed quite shy and had difficulty engaging in conversation with others.”

There it is again.

This isn’t the first appearance of such observations.  When I was going through candidacy [the process through which the ELCA approves pastors for ordination], I was required to take a psych eval and meet with a psychologist to go over the results.

I remember driving to this strange office building in Madison and sitting in a sterile room with this doctor.  He drew a line on his white board.  On the left side of the line, he wrote Introvert.  On the right, he wrote Extrovert.  Then he put an X where I had come out on the exam I had taken.  It looked something like this –

  _x________________________________________________
Introvert                                                                        Extrovert

He told me engaging in the world as a pastor and such an extreme introvert would be difficult.  In a candidacy meeting that followed, the committee told me I should “work on my introvert nature,” which I took to mean as change.  Being an introvert wasn’t acceptable for a pastor.  I had to talk more and be more extroverted is what I heard them telling me.  Introvert became a dirty word.

The first line of this post comes from an evaluation I just received.  It came from people whom I only met once; that was their first impression of me.  Quite shy with difficulty engaging in conversation.  You know, maybe I was.  But that certainly wasn’t my goal.  I tried so hard not to be.

And the truth of it is, I met with this group of people one night for a couple hours and I was exhausted for the rest of the week afterwards.  Literally – the rest of the week.  I spent so much energy to be – what I thought was – talkative and out-going for those couple hours.  [Because that’s what an introvert does – becomes exhausted from being with people and doing their best to play an extrovert.]  And still, my version of talkative and out-going was their shy and disengaged.  *sigh*

I am an introvert and sure, I suppose that sometimes might come across as shy or disengaged.  That’s not intentional  Sitting in silence doesn’t bother me one tiny bit, neither does listening more than talking.  Sure, I will avoid small talk when I can [Susan Cain, author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking, calls small talk a horror for many introverts.  In certain situations, I could agree.]; if I see someone I know in the grocery store, I just might go down a different aisle  to avoid a hello and how are you.  [That’s sad but true.  But, of course, I’ve never avoided you.  Promise.]

Punch to the gut or not, I’m owning it.  This is who I am.  Hello, my name is Lindsay and I’m an introvert.  Let’s have an in-depth one-on-one conversation and then have quiet time by ourselves.

Friday Favorites.

31 May

The “keeping my chin up” edition.

It’s been a rough week here.

Burned out.

No motivation.

Tears.

Le sigh.

In the midst of it, these are happy things:

I certainly don’t need a garland of pool noodles, but, gosh, do I want to make one.  Or five.  [Sara, are you with me on this one?]

The Bachelorette began this past week and I got a tv antenna installed just in time to tune in every Monday.  The Bachelorette not your thing?  Fair enough.  It doesn’t need to be everyone’s guilty pleasure.  But maybe you want to watch The Baby Bachelor?  [Thanks to Emma for directing that one to me.]

I redbox’ed Promised Land last night.  Two of my favorites – Matt Damon & John Krasinski – together in one film.  Promised land indeed.

As my mom, sister, and I travel to Alaska in a couple weeks, we’ll be going on the fringe of rainy season.  Bring a rain jacket, my brother advised.  Well, I don’t own an appropriate rain jacket and so I ordered one.  I was going to order a calm blue one from LLBean but they were out of stock.  My next favorite color?  BRIGHT yellow.  I’m going to look like a rubber ducky but it will make any gloomy, rainy day brighter.

In the midst of a crazy not-so-good week, there were bright spots.  A phone conversation with a friend in Tennessee, running into a Dawson friend briefly while walking my dog between here and the cemetery, a skype date with friends in Montana, and a sermon writing afternoon with jD and [five minutes with] Paige.

And here’s to hoping the overall emotions of next week only go up.

Letterpress, part 2.

20 May

A week ago, I went back to St.Paul for the second session of my letterpress class.  It was time to set type and print postcards.  I was ready.

I decided on something a little more versatile than shut the front door.  I went with hello. how are you today?  In Kennerley Old Style.  Size 18.

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I set the type upside down and left to right.  I used furniture and quoins to set it in the frame.  The dear instructor, Mary, told me I had a great geometrical eye.  [And I don’t just say that to anyone, she said.]

IMG_2309

And then it was my turn to print a whole lot of postcards.  Maybe you’ll get one in the mail someday.  When you do, it might look like it was just made on a computer.  But run your fingers lightly over that print.  It’s letterpress, baby.

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Friday Favorites.

3 May

As this post is published, I am in northern Wisconsin on a retreat for first call pastors.  It’s likely that – despite the rain and snow and cold temperatures that are threatened – I will be enjoying the wilderness of Heartwood once again.  And the good company of first call pastors.  While I’m away, here’s a round-up of my favorites:

I want to crawl up inside of these and live.  How gorgeous and delicious do these spring vegetable potstickers look?  I’ve never made potstickers.  I think it’s time to try.

This great article about God’s plan for us and whether it’s as if we are following written directions or a GPS.  [Recalculating.  Recalculating.]

Pretzel.  Toffee.  Chocolate.  Brownies.  Peanut butter.  This has all of the sweetest trigger words.

If I had an ice cream maker …

I want to do this.  Buy three mismatched, well used wooden chairs and paint them.  It’s unfortunate that  the 100 mile garage sale is happening this weekend while I’m retreating.  And this weekend while it’s cold and snowy.  IN MAY.

More favorite things?  My confirmation students.  Again.  Wednesday night was a deep, awesome night of digging into deep questions and asking more of them.  I blew their mind when we talked about Jesus returning.  One kid literally had his hands on his head as he rocked back and forth.  I think to keep his blown brain inside his skull.

28 Apr

I napped in the hammock.

I wore my yellow keens.

I drank iced coffee.

I walked with Mabel.

I sewed the binding on a quilt.

What more does a sunny Sunday afternoon need?

photo-85

Happiness and stuff.

27 Apr

What makes you really happy?

Ready?  Go!

Make a list.

I’ll wait.

[Need some music while you make a list.  Listen to this.  My confirmation kiddos loved it while they compiled lists of questions.]

Okay.  You have your list.  Now how many of those lines on your list are things?

I’m guessing not a whole lot.

More than likely, the bullet points on your list are words like family, friends, traveling, a job that’s fulfilling, meaningful relationships, learning, new experiences.  Right?  Things don’t make us happy.  We hear that all the time from educated people and studies.  Just because you have the great house and all the toys doesn’t equal happiness.  Right?

Right.  But damned if we don’t try.

I’ve noticed that in myself lately.  I’ve always known it’s true but this past week, I’ve noticed pronouncedly what all the experts say.  I buy something [new minty green bag from Target – on clearance; a new coffee table; 300 awesome straws from IKEA] and get a little excited.  I’ll carry the bag or put my feet up on the coffee table or drink iced coffee out of a great straw and think, This is the life.  Until it’s next week and it’s just old hat.  The bag will get dirty, the coffee table will gather dust and dog hair, and I will have cycled through every color of my new straws.  It isn’t so exciting anymore.  We’re back to square one and I just want to buy more stuff to simulate the immediate buyer’s happiness.

Darn experts.  They’re right.  Colorful straws [and big tvs and ipads and everything we’ve ever wanted] don’t make us happy in the long term.

How do we get it through our thick skulls when my brain seems to be wired towards accumulating things?  I literally hear myself correcting my own thinking when there is a thing I think I need.  Your life won’t change because of a thing, I tell myself.  Sometimes I listen.

And other times I buy 300 straws from IKEA.  [I really like straws.]

Dear Lindsay of middle school,

24 Apr

As a pastor who loves working with confirmation-aged kids, I catch glimpses of my own past middle school experience as the confirmation kids share their own experiences.  I slightly remember* what it was like to be awkward and a seventh grader.  It wasn’t easy.

I was so incredibly lucky to have awesome friends.  More or less the same awesome friends I still have now.  [Dancing Banana shout-out!]  But there was still drama.  There was judging.  There is terrible shit that goes on in middle schools.  And I can’t imagine it if one doesn’t have awesome friends.

There are a couple gals in my confirmation class that often only have lows to share in the rounds of highs & lows.  A lot of time, those lows are there’s just lots of drama at school.

Ugh.  Drama.

What I want to say to them is much like what I would say to my own middle-school self –

Dear Lindsay of middle school,

Being popular doesn’t matter for shit.  Forget those queen bees.  They suck.  You should just be nice to everyone.  [And probably not say people suck.  That wasn’t nice, future Lindsay.]

Be friends with the people who make you happy and people with whom you can be yourself and silly.  Form a gang.  Call it Oatmeal.  Make cardboard necklaces for everyone in the gang with raw oats glued to them.  Your name as gang leader shall be Raisin. **

The boys are pretty cute, aren’t they?  But don’t worry about them.  Just because they’re eye candy doesn’t mean they’re worth crying over.

School work is important but trying to get straight A’s isn’t worth sick stomachs and sleepless nights.  And hey – good job on that newspaper writing competition.

Please, quit wearing the over-sized flannel shirts and carpenter jeans sooner than later.

That one day, after school, when marching band rehearsal gets out late and everyone sprints back to the band room – hold onto your flute a little tighter.  Trust me.

The drama will end.  It will be okay.

Signed,

Future Lindsay

I started to write this post before confirmation met tonight.  I finish it after confirmation.  After the one confirmand who-never-has-a-high-and-her-low-is-always-drama had a high that the drama has ended.  Hallelujah.  Confirmation was awesome tonight.  Not only did every seventh and eighth grader have a high – if not many – we threw out our lesson for the night because all they wanted to do was ask questions.  About God.  About the Bible.  About doubts.  We tackled a few tonight the best we could and they made a list for next week.  Here’s to the freedom to ask questions and doubt in church.  Important stuff.

* I quite literally remember NOTHING about my seventh grade year.  It’s a blur to me.  I remember some of sixth grade and some of eight but seventh?  Nada.

** True story.

This week –

9 Apr

I’m trying to be a better, healthier, more whole-food eater and trying all sorts of things as a result.  Salads in jars, more Thai chicken quinoa, date-and-peanut-balls, and HOMEMADE GRANOLA BARS.  That’s in caps because – holy shit – they are delicious.  It might be the coconut oil.  And the dried cherries.  And a little bit of sesame.

The other part of my better, healthier being is figuring out my sleep.  Goal: In bed reading at 10.  Lights out at 10:30.  That goal has failed in execution more than it has been successful.  The early bedtime was instated because I can’t. get. out. of. the. bed. in. the. morning.  Ever.  But really I just end up sleeping more because I go to bed early and still stay in bed just as late.  Enter new app.  It’s pretty cool and wakes me up within the best place for waking in my sleep cycle.

The better, healthier Lindsay is also – thanks to awareness from her counselor – becoming aware of her distorted thinking.  Distorted thinking is when I am hard on myself, when I assess situations to be all or nothing, when I discard compliments I receive as not true.  Distorted thinking is basically how my brain works so it’s being aware of my negative thoughts, turning them around, and “telling the negative committee inside my head to shut up.”

That’s my week, along with meetings, two-hour long pastoral visits [I need to work on leaving.], rain, and hanging with confirmation kids.  How’s your week?

Connections.

27 Mar

This post begins with the connection between Rachel Held Evans and Henri Nouwen.

That sentence might make you say who?  Rachel Held Evans is the theologian and author of the book I quoted just a while ago on the blog.  Henri Nouwen was a theologian and priest; an author of many, many books, one of which I too just quoted a bit ago here.  I follow Rachel on twitter and read her blog.  I have more than a couple Nouwen books on my shelves and I pull them out from time to time; I find them full of enriching nuggets of faith and comfort.

This week, these two separate worlds collided in a super meaningful way.  I clicked on a tweet from Rachel with a link to her recent blog post; she’s been facilitating a discussion on gay marriage on her blog and using two separate books to guide the conversation. Both books are by gay men of faith but while one has chosen celibacy, the other believes a relationship with another man could be blessed by God.  [Curious more?  Here is the post of which I speak.]

Here is where my mind was blown: one of the books Rachel uses speaks of dear Mr. Nouwen at length.  I did not know that Nouwen was gay; heck, I didn’t even know that he was a priest before I began to eavesdrop on this conversation.  I knew that I loved his writing and that was about it.  But now, as it turns out, I love it more because I can relate to the places from which it comes.

Henri Nouwen was lonely.  He wrestled intensely with loneliness, persistent cravings for affection and attention, immobilizing fears of rejection, and a restless desire to find a home where he could feel safe and cared for. [p. 87]  To quote Rachel who quotes the book which quotes Philip Yancey –

Nouwen, who later in life confessed that he had known since he was six years old that he was attracted to members of his own sex, would, in lectures and books, “speak of the strength he gained from living in community, then drive to a friend’s house, wake him up at two in the morning, and, sobbing, ask to be held.”

Now granted, I am fully aware that I am not a celibate gay priest [really?  really.], nor am I in the least  marginalized because of my sexual orientation, but gosh, to some degree, I can relate to that.

I have begun the very healthy and wise practice of seeing a counselor.  We’ve only met twice but I can see why people do this.  It will be fruitful.  Just this last time we met, I was talking about something or other and her response to me was, It sounds like you’re lonely.  Bingo.

I’m still not super sure what to do about that besides – for some insane reason – choosing to be super vulnerable with the world and spill it on the blog.  [As if you didn’t already know.]  Knowing what I do about Henri Nouwen and as I google search and order his biography to learn more, I find myself drawn to his writing in deeper ways.  There are perhaps some other life changes looming on my horizon, too. I realize that I need to facilitate the move from being lonely; I think I’m working on it.  We’ll see where life takes me; hopefully in the direction of community, new friends, and a world of less lonely.

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