Hiding Facebook Feeds and Praying Blessings

I'm about to be honest with you. I hide people in my Facebook feed at times. I do it because, well, I don't want to "unfriend" them. I simply need a break from them. I need time to remove their voice or myriad of pictures from my feed, in order to pray.

Seriously, I need to pray for them.

Sometimes I want to pray for them in a very selfish way. Or use my blog to write a post. You know, in hopes they'll read it, so that they know how narcisstic they are. It's because clearly, I'm the more holy & spiritual one, right?! Right?

And then, I do it. I scroll and find the person's name, browse their page and wonder if the agitation has gone away. I then find five more things which bother me about them and then ask the question, "God, WHY does this person bother me SO much? Can't they see how immature they are?"

I hope he responds to my favor. But. He doesn't.

I am bombarded again and again how the Spirit within me is cleansing me. But, I don't like it. I don't want to be wrong. I don't want to pray for that person. I don't want to pray blessings over them. I don't want to encourage them and spur them on toward love. I don't want to be a voice of "you can do it" to this person when it's obvious they get it from everyone else sounding like clanging gongs. All people wanting to be the person's best friend.

I'll pass.

But. God speaks truth. Truth hurts.

******

My mom had surgery today. She fell and injured her leg something fierce, which caused an infection inside. The thing about it is she got a little cut on her leg from the fall. That small cut turned into a pinky thick crevice in her leg, because the infection began eating it open.

The only way to stop the wound from getting larger is breaking open the wound and scraping it out clean.

******

You see, when God speaks truth, he needs to rip open the wound more and scrap it out clean. His truth seeps into that raw space.

My heart can go in two directions. Allow truth to clean it out. OR... Allow for the annoyance to lead to contempt and infect my whole being.

So God, what do I do?

I nod my head in that humbled, "yeah, I know what you're gonna say" nod.

Pray more blessings. Write encouraging notes to them. Don't allow anymore room for the infection to spread.

And why?

Because this person is made in the image of the Most High, and I cannot desecrate that. I'm not saying this is going to be easy or delightful. Obedience never seems such does it.

*PS: I wouldn't be surprised if someone hides me in their feed. Makes me laugh.

Sacramental Act of Sharing Your Table

Of late I've been reading about eating. Yes, eating. How eating is something we often don't spend much time thinking about, because, well...we do it everyday in this Western world. But, did you know that in Ancient Near East culture, it was gathering around the table & sharing a meal where covenants were created and hospitality was formed.

If I had you at my table and served you food, I was making a declaration, "This shared meal is an act of our binding that I will not betray. You are part of the family." Does this sound familiar in the New Testament?

How do you view your table?

Is your table cluttered, rarely used to eat at, while resembling a landing spot for odds & ends?
Is your table little, boasting of minute space to dine?
Is your table simply a fixture in your home, because that space says “dining room?”

Our life at the table no matter how mundane, is a sacramental act.--Simon Carey Holt

Simon Carey Holt’s words sing to me like the spring robin outside my window. This life is full of the valley’s shadows. The more we age, we certainly cannot run from this reality.

Our hearts longing for a home perfection & a table feasting with delight before a King--who ransomed life, so that we would find ourselves in good glory.

But...

What if our tables in this here & now--our physical tables stood for the good glory. The Spirit ushering about, breathing it at the tables. It’s not so we can skip past this life only looking heavenward. But to take in the graces of this life given, which speak of a Table never broken.

Share your table

My birthday wish was to cook a wonderful meal to share with my closest friends & feast in the summer warmth of the Pacific Northwest. The lights were strung with yellow lanterns in between. Two card tables pushed together with one purple/orange tablecloth making it one.

Our meal of grilled pork loin with local cherry compote, birthday salad, & grilled apricots with mascarpone cheese, all paired with fruit of the vine. The food was lovely; yet, the smiles & laughter of these women I love made the food taste divine.

That evening I opened this second hand picture frame to find one of the best presents from my friend Talia. A picture by Nikki McClure of a gathering around the table with three simple words, “Share the Table.”

This life online, where we find encouragement & community is good. I have found & met people who are kindreds, but it’s the life around the table where it’s really shared.

Jesus came to heal the sick & save the lost, most of which happened around the table.

It was the table where the tears ran down her face & bathed his feet alongside the alabaster perfume.

It was the table where he performed his first miracle of turning the water to wine.

It was the table where he chose to spend his last hours before being sent like a sheep to slaughter.

And it would be at the table where he would join them to eat his first meal after stomping down death’s door.

How Sharing our Tables Translates

1. Not Bon Appetit

Sharing your table isn’t a fancy affair, or gourmet meals--it’s sharing life. Jesus shared life at the table. I encourage you to spend more time thinking about how you can bless those around your table with you than the food. I’m certain you’ll be surprised when they want to come back.

2. Food Serves as a Bridge

It really isn’t about the food. It doesn’t have to be dinner. It can be cards & ice cream, or simple appetizers. Food is simply the vehicle to the destination of hospitality. I think it’s why Martha gets a bad wrap versus Mary. Mary knew that it’s the person over the food that matter. Now, if we can sprinkle a little of Martha’s practical with a lot of Mary’s devotion, we could share our tables more aptly.

I encourage you to step out this week and invite someone you know or want to know into your home; whether, it be for afternoon coffee/tea or dinner.

What deters you from sharing your table? How have you been encouraged through sharing your table?

***This is an updated post from a year ago seen at Sisters in Bloom.

How a Sourdough Cashew Bread & I Met

I've been salivating over The Urban Poser's sourdough cashew bread for a while, but I haven't had time to make it. That is until now. And all I can wonder is, "why haven't I done this long before?"

Yesterday I processed the raw, organic cashews with filtered water. Then, added the probiotic (mine was a 34 billion cell), which I thoroughly mixed in the cashews. I put it in my yogurt maker to incubate for 24 hours.

A word on the probiotic. There is a mistake in the original recipe calling for a 20-30 billion strain, because the number is not referring to strains; rather, it's referring to cells. In my probiotic capsules, each capsule contains 34 billion cells, while the probiotic itself has seven (7) strains of probiotics. What you'll want is to find a probiotic carrying 20-30 billion cells. I found mine at the co-op in town.

The one recipe calls for a 7 3/4 x 3 3/4 pan, which isn't very large. Most loaf pans are more like 9x5. If you want to make this recipe in your standard one, then you'll need to double the recipe. What you see in my picture is actually two mini loaf pans.

I love the fresh out of the oven taste of this bread. I have visions of baking it again in the small loaf pan, then slicing it thin and laying them flat on a sheet pan to toast up for French Onion Soup or crostini.

PS: I didn't do the lovely egg wash, which makes the end result nice and golden and lovely.