Day 18 :: Pumpkin Pecan Scones & Needing to Be Still


Last night as I stared at my screen to finish up Day 17 on INFPs & ENFPs, all I wanted to do was cry & pour out my heart of what I'm dealing with.  I did not want to write about Myers-Briggs (I know shock!).  I wanted to talk about how hard it is that tears come without a moment's notice.  And it's not just tears.  It's those tears where you feel as though the world is crashing down all around you.  Where you just want to cradle yourself & rock on the floor, because you feel like your soul is lost somewhere else.  

This morning was the same.  My girls were watching a video in the basement while I went to take a shower & more water seemed to fall from my eyes than the shower head.  The last time I remember crying like this was when my dad was in jail & he wouldn't be at my wedding.  But, he would return & this time, my baby won't.  

I can't talk about Myers-Briggs & be so clinical & textbook describing other people, when my soul goes from anger to sadness to bitterness to extreme loneliness to isolation to avoidance.  I realize that everyone deals with grief differently.  Some just go back to work thinking they cried enough & move on, but do they really move on?  Are we suppose to move on?  Knowing my ENFJness, I cannot allow to let it settle & not address it.  That would not be honoring to me or our baby.  

My friend Autumn is pregnant & her belly is glorious.  Her baby & mine would have been a mere weeks apart.  I see her beautiful, life-giving belly & wonder what my belly would look like if it weren't empty.  It was four weeks ago that I began to bleed.  It didn't stop.  I would be 9 weeks going on 10 if I were still pregnant.  

I hear words, "Be Kind to Yourself!" As I trudge ahead with MBTI & all the types for 31 days, I'm doing it more for you readers than myself at this point.  I had a hard time reconciling to be freed from this commitment.  As I was talking with my friend Tina I said, "You know how committed I am & I have a deep need to follow through; but, I have so much going on internally that I need to let out. I'm reminded how I need to create in the kitchen & simply share those creations.  To get comments like, 'Wow, I can't wait to eat that!'" Her response, "Please stop Myers-Briggs. I want my Kamille back who creates recipes & hear her.  I don't want textbook Kamille."  

That's what I've been. Textbook Kamille & it's too much. I need to be kind to myself as I continue to walk this road of grief.  I need freedom to express that right now.  I will finish what I set out to do, but finish it when I feel like I can handle it.  It could be I wake up on Thursday feeling ready to talk about Rationals (sorry friends), or not.  

God is reminding me of how much I am a deep thinker, deep feeler & creative.  Music, food, & writing fill that creative place.  My kitchen worked along side of me as I created these amazing grain-free, sugar-free pumpkin pecan scones with maple coconut butter frosting.  


Pumpkin Pecan Scones with Maple Coconut Butter Frosting 

I have this pumpkin pecan scones recipe, which uses gluten & refined sugar & I wanted to recreate one I could enjoy without.  This my friends is it.  You can send me your gratitude.  

Scone Ingredients:

3/4 cup whole hazelnuts

3 1/2 cups blanched almond flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 Tb ground flax seed

1 tsp ground cinnamon

1/2 tsp freshly grated nutmeg

1/8 tsp ground cloves

1/2 cup unsalted butter, (grass fed) cut into 1/4 inch cubes

10 medjool dates, remove pits

2 Tb warm water

2 eggs

1 1/2 cups pumpkin puree or 1-15 oz can

1 tsp vanilla

3/4 cup toasted & chopped pecans


Frosting Ingredients:

3/4 cup coconut butter

1/4 cup pure maple syrup (or more to taste)

1/4-1/2 cup heavy whipping cream, almond milk, or coconut milk

pinch of salt


Scone Directions: Preheat oven to 350.

In a food processor, place the whole hazelnuts.  Process until the hazelnuts are finely ground.  It actually won't be completely fine, so if it it kind of resembles fine couscous, that's okay.  You simply don't want to over grind & get hazelnut butter.  

Add the dry ingredients to the ground hazelnuts, almond flour, baking soda, salt, flax meal, ground cinnamon, nutmeg, & cloves.  Pulse about 5 times, or till the ingredients are just combined.  Add the cut butter & pulse another 5 times, taking care to not over mix.  You will want the butter to be the size of small peas.  Take a large bowl & empty dry ingredients into the bowl, scraping the crevices with a spatula to get as much out as possible.  Set aside.

Put the food processor bowl back on & the blade.  Add pitted dates & 1-2 Tb of warm water.  Puree. You will need to scrap the edges & puree again to make it into a paste.  Essentially, you want to ensure that there are no large date chunks left.  Take a medium bowl & put the puree dates in.  Add two eggs, pumpkin puree & vanilla.  Mix the wet ingredients till thoroughly combined.  

Pour the wet ingredients into the dry ingredients and with a gentle hand, mix together.  The dough will be kind of sticky (it's okay).  Add the pecans in and mix together.  

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.  Using an ice cream scoop or a 1/4 cup, and scoop out dough & put the big dough mound on the parchment lined paper.  Gently press down the mound, which the scones should be about the size of a baseball.  (look at picture if you're wondering).  Bake for 12 minutes, rotate pan & bake for an additional 12-15 minutes depending on your oven.

While your scones are baking, make the frosting.  In a small pan, add the coconut butter, maple syrup, pinch of salt & heavy whipping cream or coconut milk.  Stir till nice & smooth.  Once the scones are done, pour the frosting on them (they don't need to be cool).  Garnish with additional pecans.  Eat & drink with a warm beverage of choice & remember in that moment, "this is part of being kind to myself."

Father Wounds Lay Deep (Part Five)


There I was standing across from my husband to be, in the old church sanctuary.  Palms sweating with what seemed the hottest June day we'd seen in years.  Rehearsing what would follow in 24 hours.  Our pastor went through the mechanics of who stands where, when vows would be spoken & how he would introduce us as husband & wife.  

And although the day was beautiful, and the certainty of me marrying a good man was solidified--something was missing.  I was leaving my family to cleave to a new one, except I didn't have a whole family to leave. It's hard to quite describe the longing we have for our earthly Father to esteem, protect & care for us, especially when it wasn't completely actualized.  

When Jesus cries out "Abba," his words are so tender as we hear "daddy, daddy--where are you?"  My 22 year old heart always wanted to say, "Daddy," but that word denotes affection & trust.  I had neither.  

As I stood there on the platform going over the lines, my mind wandered at what my dad was doing at that moment?  I kept thinking that he just might show up the next day.  My mom walked me down the aisle with me looking like a radiant princess, mustering everything I had to thoroughly relish in this day.  But, it's hard to embrace the wholeness of one family, while the gaze of brokenness stands to the side of you.  

That day we made a covenant.  It was spoke of sticking to this relationship in sickness & health, for richer or poorer, until death do us part.  He said he would love & cherish.  His words are his present action.  I married a good man.  And still, years would past & I still longed for the approval that would come from my father.  I would even long for the approval that would come from my husband.  

I would wait for an apology from him for choosing to self medicate over me.  Those words never came.  

It wouldn't be until my oldest daughter was eight months that all the repressed crap hit the fan.  My story felt like glass shattered into a million pieces.  How would I ever put it together?  And that's when Jesus, dear persistent Jesus, would take my story & show me glimpses of sweet honey found in the most foul of places. He would take me through tears.  Break down idols I built trying to jam everything into my Jesus shaped heart...except him.  

He lovingly showed me that my father is broken.  He's a mess clinging to his shattered story, unwilling to hand it over to Jesus.  He's so entangled in the brambles, that he doesn't know how to adequately love.  

Jesus sweetly, yet directly told me, "You will never find what your looking for in your father & his approval--you'll only find it in me."  

And now, I run to my Jesus.  I see how he constantly held me tight.  

I don't blame my father for my mess.  I hope for a day that he will hand over his mess, but I don't depend on him fixing his life, his story, in order for me to be whole.  That's not my father's job.  My wounds may lay deep, but I see the grace of God seeping into the cracks, fusing the shattered glass together, leading me to the cross. This is why I can tell my story now; because, I have seen the honey in the carcass--it's redemption found. 


In case you missed it, 

Father Wounds Lay Deep (Part One)

Father Wounds Lay Deep (Part Two)

Father Wounds Lay Deep (Part Three)

Father Wounds Lay Deep (Part Four)

Father's Wounds Lay Deep (Part Two)


Read Part 1 of the story.


"Hi, what's wrong?" I asked. Something had to be wrong for my brother to be calling.

"Well...(a bit of hesitation in his voice), dad's in jail again," he replied.

"What?! What happened? So he's not going to be here is he?" I angrily responded.


Willy informed me of some of the details, tried to be the protective, reassuring older brother that he's always been. He even went as far to sound hopeful that my dad would indeed be released by the time of my wedding, which was about a month away.

I hung up the phone in shock & disbelief. I cried. I sobbed. I asked God why? Why does this have to happen? I knew everything seemed too good to be true. Everything was lining up all too well.

I was surrounded by a man who truly loved me, friends who would bend over backwards for me, a mother who would die for me, but it didn't seem to be enough. It was my dad's job to be the man to choose me. To walk his only daughter down the aisle. To give me away to the man who would take his place.

And he absolutely failed me.

A piece of my heart was damaged that night after I hung up the phone with my brother. Whenever someone informed me that they wouldn't be able to come to my wedding or my bridal shower, I took it as the telephone call that evening. It was them saying, "I am not choosing you Kamille, because you're not important enough."

It left me wondering, "who would give me away? And how can I guard my father's absence while upholding his own dignity?"


Continue to Father's Wounds Lay Deep: Part Three