Bollywood, by special request!

Josie from our community group requested the following recipe and I was excited to share. Here's what makes it so wonderful:

tasty. just so, so good.

cheap. last time I made this for community group I doubled or tripled it and the whole thing, including bread and rice, cost about $9.

great for groups. easy to make, even ahead of time, and only mildly spicy so everyone can enjoy.

It's called "soup" but it's thick enough to serve over rice without sloshing around. Serve with naan, top with a dollop of plain yogurt, and you've got yourself a full meal deal. (And bonus for me, protein-obsessed pregnant lady, rice and beans together make a complete protein!) Without further ado...

Indian Spiced Chickpea and Fire-Roasted Tomato Soup

(thanks again, Rachael Ray)

Ingredients

• 1/4 cup extra-virgin olive oil, 2 turns of the pan

• 2 cloves garlic, chopped

• 2 cans chickpeas, drained

• 1 small onion, coarsely chopped

• 2 teaspoons ground cumin, 2/3 palmful

• 1/2 teaspoon ground cardamom

• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric

• Salt and pepper

• 2 cups chicken or vegetable stock

• 1 (28-ounce) can fire roasted tomatoes

• 1 cup plain yogurt

• Warm pita, any flavor or variety, toasted

Directions

Heat a medium pot with extra-virgin olive oil over medium heat. Add garlic and cook 2 to 3 minutes. Grind the chickpeas and onion in food processor. Add to pot and cook 5 minutes to sweeten onion. Season the chickpeas with cumin, cardamom, turmeric, salt and pepper. Stir in stock, then tomatoes. Simmer soup 5 to 10 minutes to combine flavors. Serve with a dollop of yogurt and warm pita for dipping.

(when I don't have cumin/cardamom/turmeric, I substitute generic curry powder for one or all, 1:1. Still tastes great.)

everybody loves a good martyr

How many times I have heard this from my husband...

"I would so much rather have you be happy when I come home than for the house to be clean, chores done, dinner on the table."

This is the man I married, these are his true sentiments, and it has taken me over a year to realize that he might actually mean them.

What I've learned over the past year is that the greatest gift I can give my husband is joy. He loves it when I'm happy, content with my lot, excited about him and our life together, joyful to see him when he walks in the door. And for some reason this can be the hardest gift for me to give.

I remember one defining day about a year ago, just a few months after we got married. I had worked early that morning and got off around noon, came home and GOT BUSY. I dragged my tired body all over the house, up and down the stairs to the laundromat, moving slower and slower and feeling more and more dejected (after all, what was I, a slave?!), but pressing on toward the goal. My goal, of course, was nothing less than perfection. I wanted everything to be done by the time he walked in, snack and slippers waiting by our grotesque orange armchair.

Well, he came home. And things were not done. No, when he walked in, unfolded laundry literally tumbled out of my hands as I stood in the middle of the living room, tears rolling down my miserable face. Welcome home, honey.

We laugh now. Not so funny then.

But things have started to change...slowly...since I started trying to take him at his word. I could immediately see the difference on his face as he came home to a disheveled house and a disheveled wife who had spent the afternoon reading nothing of importance at all and was perfectly relaxed. His countenance brightened and he was actually excited to spend the rest of the evening with this lovely person.

The past few days in particular have been the most relaxing I've experienced since we got married. When I'm tired and Charlie suggests I take a nap, I just do, instead of arguing that I haven't been awake long enough or done enough stuff to justify it. And I can tell you for sure that we are both better off for it. Then when I do tackle my reasonable list of chores (he helped me realize that I always attempt more than is humanly possible) I don't find them nearly as overwhelming.

And now that this is starting to make sense to me in the context of my marriage, I wonder about God. Could it be that he's not impressed with my attempts at perfection either? Would he rather have me just receive his gifts and love with gratitude instead of killing myself trying to pretend I'm earning them?

Oh, but I just love thinking I deserve all the good things in my life! The battle wages on.

(photo source here)

The Ants Go Marching...Away Hopefully

A few weeks ago my husband awoke to some startling new guests- a horde, yes a horde, of tiny black ants had invaded our kitchen and were attempting to carry off our dinner plates! (I would've been quite tempted to let them, since that pile of dishes was looking pretty grim). He proceeded to kill them all without waking me in the next room- something I find utterly astonishing, seeing as if I had been the one to make the discovery, my shrieks of terror might've gotten us evicted!

The big question after the main squadron was killed was "what do we do now?". I have an abhorrence to commercial pest-control measures. One, because it costs pennies we don't have and two, because if it poisons the pests, chances are its not that great to have around anyway. Armed with the knowledge that others in my place have found ways of getting rid of these guys using everyday items, I went a-searching and found some useful information via the internet. So here begins the Abridged List of Things that Ants Find Yucky:

1. White vinegar- wipe counters, walls and floors down with this stuff (we found it kept them at bay only so long as it was freshly wiped, but this is apparently an old trick housecleaning services use).

2. Cinnamon- sprinkle it around the "infected" areas

3. Chili powder- same

4. Cucumber- this one was not tried and tested by me, but apparently a few well placed bits of this will be enough.

5. Peppermint oil- put in a spray bottle with an equal amount of water and spritz around. A few days of that should do the trick.

The peppermint oil has by far had the greatest and swiftest effect for us. This stuff actually kills the ants and if any are around when you spray, they promplty start looking for the nearest exit, but tend to pop off before they get far.

Hope this helps anyone else in dire straights!



*image obtained from http://www.clipartguide.com/

ode to my sink

This won't actually be an ode; it's just a post. Sorry to disappoint.

Tonight's blessing has been brought to you straight from the FlyLady (see earlier posts or check out her website). She's a little random and sometimes hokey but DANG this lady can homemake!

She calls it C.H.A.O.S.: can't have anyone over syndrome. Her magical first step toward getting an out-of-control kitchen/house/life into shape, while bringing boundless joy, is shining the kitchen sink.

I did this for the first time last summer and I am not kidding you, you have never seen such a non-spiritual conversion in your life. I finished the sink and wandered the house looking for dishes to wash. This is not a joke, friends. I literally hated doing the dishes. Still do most of the time.

She explains it better here but the idea is that gaining control over one little area of your house makes you feel so incredibly accomplished that you are inspired to keep moving forward, one small step at a time. You look at that clean sink and you're like, "Take that, dirty house demon voices that tell me I'm losing." And you chalk one up for you and start finding other areas to conquer.

The third picture is a another one of FlyLady's ideas. (p.s. I have no idea why she's called that. I can't be held responsible.) She recommended that people who don't have dishwashers find a container to use as a sort of dish pit to hide dirty dishes until it's time to do them, and also to make it easier to attack the stack because you don't have to pull them all out of the sink before you can even start filling it with your hot, soapy water. I found this aluminum beverage tub at Target last summer and it works like magic.

...until the dishes start pouring over onto the stove, and the counter, and eventually into the sink, and stay there taunting me for days... and then I know it's time to shine the sink again.

You know, this topic of dishes might require multiple posts because they are such a devil to me. Stay tuned!

you mean, i won't be the perfect parent?

According to thebump.com, this is our baby right now. Baby lemon, meet the world.

I always wondered if I'd be mature by the time I had a baby. Even in the months leading up to us getting pregnant, I would do blatantly stupid or sinful things and think, "Well, it's probably good I'm not pregnant yet. More time to work on that." And while I didn't actually believe I'd be perfect by the time we conceived, I did hope to have some of the major kinks worked out.

Now I'm pregnant. And just today I did another one of those things I keep struggling with and don't want to pass along to our progeny. But I've realized a couple of things during the past few months that miraculously kept me from calculating the irreparable damage my bad example would have done if our child was not still safely in the womb.

One, there actually are a lot of kinks that have been worked out. Usually I don't look at the positive side of things, so take note! As I look back a few years at what I struggled with in college or as Charlie and I started dating, there has actually been a lot of truth brought to light, sin repented of and forgiven, redemption achieved and progress made. There are a lot fewer things now than there were five years ago that I would be sad to gift to my children, and a lot more goodness and truth to pass along, thanks to God.

Two, not only will I never be perfect, that's actually not the point at all. The point is that God's grace has helped me learned how to repent more quickly and honestly. If my track record is any indication, I will keep sinning until the day I die. But do I defend it? Justify it and protect it? Do I go to God right away or let guilt keep me far off? These are the really important fields where our actual battles are won and lost. It's an inevitability that we will sin. But what comes next?

And this afternoon I am encouraged. I see in me a desire to agree with Jesus about what is good and what is evil, even when I'm the one who did wrong. And to see that in my children would make my heart smile! Jesus says, "Apart from me you can do nothing," and so if he helps me stay close to his side, I feel confident that I can trust him for all the rest of that parenting mumbo-jumbo.

=)

lovey wall photos

Just a quick, easy idea I wanted to share with you!

I thumb-tacked twine to the ceiling-wall corner and at the baseboard to keep everything from flopping around, and then clothes pinned the photos to the twine.

On the Coupon Connections website I found a deal that let me print free photos at Target, so this project was FREE as well as being ridiculously easy. In fact, I just found a way to get 100 photos for $1 shipped. Deciding on 100 photos seems like a daunting task to me, but whatever.

Now, even when Charlie and I are fighting, there are visual reminders that we actually really like each other!

sacrificed on the altar of humiliation

(Disclaimer: this post isn't specifically related to homemaking, but I feel like anything that brings us closer to Christ significantly improves the quality and joy of our homes. So here goes.)

I'm part of a counseling ministry at church, and we're having training sessions for the next few Sundays. The method? They call it a "fishbowl." I call it horrible.

Picture your worst nightmare: a small group of women sit in a circle in the middle of the room discussing their deepest issues and crying. The ones who don't share try to figure out how to respond. And outside of the circle, twenty other women are looking on. Staring. Taking notes. And at the end, we all get together and critique what happened. In gory detail.

Okay, I make it sound a little more terrible than it is. I was in the center today. Once people started talking, it was easy to forget I was being watched. The Holy Spirit really moved. And the end result was so worth it...insightful feedback, helpful critiques, growing and learning. Jesus got glory, all that good stuff.

But COME ON. Charlie asked me today if I was excited to go. No, no not excited. Eager for what God would teach me in the end, but not for the process. Why? Certainly because it's an inherently intimidating situation to be put it. But there was more to my severely anxious anticipation than just a normal reaction to an uncomfortable scene.

But I went. As I drove to my death this afternoon, or so I thought, I realized that if someone pulled me over right then and put a gun to my head and asked if I believed in Jesus, I would say yes (at least I can imagine I would) and that would be the end of it. Of me, probably. But to cheerfully volunteer to sit in the middle of a group of Christian women, the scariest people of all, and my peers too - not some rookies off the street who've never counseled before, to be scrutinized (even in love) and observed?! I would rather die! Literally!

But okay, it comes down to this. I realized that I would die for Jesus, but I was refusing to sacrifice myself on the altar of humiliation. What if God's plan was to use me in blessing others by being the BAD example? The one who teaches everyone what not to do? Am I on board for that?

I was convicted as I drove. And though I won't say I was excited by the time I got to church, I was, I think, at least a little more willing to lay down my comfort and reputation if it meant blessing and help for the whole group. Incidentally, I did screw up. And you know what? I think God was glorified. And I lived to tell the tale.

just...a little...more...

My life is good. I mean REALLY good. First, of course, the spiritual: what more could I hope for than to be saved and in relationship with a God who delights in me? Delights. In me.

Then of course there are the oh-so-favorable circumstances of my life: my sweet and wonderful husband who loves and serves me, a little baby on the way and and an easy and mostly enjoyable pregnancy, a cute little apartment in the city, access to great food, faithful friends... I could really list forever.

So it's to my shame that I share this with you: all I want is more. No matter how much I have or how good it gets, my eyes are constantly and naturally drifting toward what I don't have or what I want more of. I know I'm not alone in this.

I always called this propensity of mine "discontentment." A benign, whiney-sounding word that I associate with small sighs and little unmet longings. Through Redemption Group I discovered an entirely new word to describe this that, while much harsher-sounding, more accurately reveals the state of my heart and has helped me begin conquering this sin: greed.

Yes, greed. As soon as I discovered this new word, I was able to see that my discontentment is actually an active, grasping, demanding sort of ugly displeasure that springs from a heart of ingratitude. Ouch. I know. I fought it at first too, but try it on for size. "Discontentment" allowed me to hide from dealing with this sin because it almost sounds like the word "discomfort" or "dislike"... more mild, less concerning. For some reason the concept of greed raised more alarm for me as a character trait and caused me to take more responsibility. My demands so often overtake my vision of all the goodness of God in my life. It has helped me hate the sin more, to my benefit.

The solution, my R.G. book says, is not simply forcing myself to be thankful for what I've got. Thank goodness - who can do that? It's not a simple matter of will-power. It starts with prayer, always with prayer, asking for vision of what we have instead of only what we don't. The goal is gratitude, the way is Jesus.

And as I write I am struggling! Greed springs up at a simple glance around the room. Oh, you ugly furniture. Someday we will replace you. Why do I have to look at that stupid corner market all the time? They should replace the roof. Our house is messy!

I'm thinking of Psalm 23: "Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Goodness and mercy follow me, and will always follow me, forever! Praise be to God. Oh, for eyes to see it!

We do what? We make Lemonade of course!

What invokes the thought of relaxed summer days, bright green grass and tanktops better than a glass of lemonade? Well, yes, perhaps relaxed summer days, bright green grass and tanktops do, but what about when those are in short supply? Summer is very nearly over and if, like me, you live near Seattle, you may be feeling a little cheated as September draws close and you realize you are quite possibly less tan than you were in March. Okay, so that may be a bit of an exaggeration, however, we did see a little less of our friend the sun in these parts than we all had hoped. Nevertheless! What better time could there possibly be to excersize your homemaking skills to brighten up some otherwise dreary days? So when Seattle hands you weighty, dull gray clouds and all too moist mornings, what do you do? You make lemonade! And I'm not talking the canned, thaw and mix kind. I'm talking good ol' fashioned, hand squeezed, amazingly fresh lemonade! And here's how you do it:

What you need:
a large pot
a pitcher
8 cups water
1/4-1/2 cup sugar
1 cup of fresh squeezed lemon juice

Put your water and sugar in the large pot and boil it for about 2 minutes- the sugar will be nice and dissolved. Transfer this to the pitcher and let cool in the refrigerator. Before this point, I let it get nice and cool while sitting on the stove, as I'm very clumsy and this prevents me from splashing hot water on myself as I attempt to get it from the pot to the pitcher- a caustion my husband appreciates. Next, let it get really cold in the fridge for about an hour or so, then just pour in your lemon juice and viola!

The first time I made this, my husband and I were shocked at how good it tasted. You'll feel like you just travelled back in time and paid a nickel to adorable children at a road-side lemonade stand, it's THAT good. No comparison to storebought lemonade in my book. The added bonus is you can completely control the sweetness to your own tastes.

So even when the sun only deigns to come around at about five o' clock in the evening, I can still pretend with a nice cold glass of lemonade. And, I'll tell you what- its surprising how accomplished making something so simple from scratch can make you feel. Then again, maybe that's just me...

laundry, how you taunt me!

Laundry makes me insecure. I feel like a little defeated every time. And stains are the worst. The bully's knee in my face every time I watch grease or food soil our clothes - you win, laundry! You always do!

I make guesses and hope for the best. Coloreds in with whites this time! No one even knows what permanent press is! Throw that shirt in with the jeans! I make random and sometimes arbitrary rules based on tidbits I've received along the way: Bright colors get cold water. Whites get hot. Unless they should not shrink or are special in some way. Then they get warm, because it's halfway between hot and cold and sometimes compromise is the best solution.

It's a crapshoot, ladies! Which, by the way, I just discovered is a "risky or uncertain venture." Exactly. Will it bleed? Was that the best way? Do any of these rules actually matter? Hand-wash doesn't always mean hand-wash? But sometimes it does? Dangit.

Anyway, I just found a tool to help that helped me begin to overcome what is essentially my sheer lack of knowledge about these things. GoodHousekeeping's website has a tool called Stain Buster that successfully helped Charlie and I clean week-old spaghetti sauce spots out of his cream-colored dress shirt. It was magical! This particular spell required the alternating application of laundry detergent and white vinegar.

I know sometimes it's easiest just to google "remove dog vomit stain from denim vest" (that has never happened to me) but I thought this website was a nice central location to run to in times of stain-induced distressed.

And if anyone has a trusted Laundry 101 resource to share, please don't leave me in the dark!

who i am (not)

Tonight I met with God. I didn't want to. In fact, I even did the dishes and called my grandma (who for the first time in my life didn't answer) in order to avoid Him. But eventually I sat on my bed with my journal and started venting. There's no other way to get started sometimes except to word vomit for awhile.

I prayed God would help me be real, because the question we received to ponder at my Redemption Group training session today was this: "Where in your suffering has it been hard for the real you to meet the real Jesus?"

The pastor explained that God in the Bible is very honest about describing, graphically and specifically, our true struggles and pain and the situations causing us to suffer. If we aren't equally honest, we won't bring our real self to him. And if we bring a distorted, "I'm doing pretty good" version of ourselves to God, the version of "God" we meet with is likely to be distorted in our minds as well. The pastor called the real me to seek out the real God.

Which leads me back to my pow-wow on the bed. Here's the big question I was struggling with: is it okay to be me? I have been enslaved to comparing myself to other people, usually women, usually Christian wives, and I always, always, always fall short. There's about one day every two months where I feel like I have the energy to go 100% and I know in my heart there was no possible way I could have been more productive. On those days, my heart finishes at peace. The rest of the time, I just feel condemned for failing to measure up. My suffering has been exhaustion from carrying this heavy load.

And an hour ago, I was certain that God would agree with these accusations. I was sure they were all true, and that if I asked him what he thought about who I am, he would not only confirm my worst fear (that I was inadequate), he would add more shame to the pile. You can see why I wasn't racing to hang out with him.

But tonight, when the real me (God, I'm afraid you'll crush me with more condemnation. I don't even want to ask you to speak to me. I already know what you'll say.) sat with the real God, he first said, "I don't need you to impress me," and then, "I have missed you." I finally got the courage to ask him, "Did you make me the way I am?" he just answered, "Are you going to live as the person I made you to be?" I thought about it. And I lifted my chin and said no.

But I was smiling. He had won, I just didn't want to admit defeat right away. My heart felt peace.

Am I going to live as the person he made me to be? I feel compelled to share with you, the cyber universe, this person I have been trying so hard to avoid.

First and most importantly, I love my bed. I love being in it, it is my favorite place to spend time, I miss it when we are apart. I gave you the above photo as evidence of this fact. I most enjoy activities I can do from bed, like drinking wine (in the old days) and eating chocolate, and blogging, like I am doing right now. Reading and sleeping are also high up on the list. As far as the amount of tasks I can handle in any given week, my plate is small. Like, "I wish I could have dessert on this plate but it's too small" kind of small. I don't exercise and didn't have a ton of energy before I got pregnant, much less since. I can blame it on the baby, but let's be honest, I loved my bed before the baby and I will probably love it after. And the last three things I wish to confess are that I struggle deeply with contentment, I hate working, and I am not Debi Pearl. I'm sure there's more, but that's all that feels relevant tonight. Phew.

I am feeling okay with my little world now, praise God. I think this week I might give His challenge a shot.

sharing some bridal love

My friend Alicia's getting married! And I'm helping!

Well, in my small ways. Her bridal shower today went off without a hitch (haha) and I recorded a little bit of my games-and-activities craftiness for you. And here is the best part of it all: this time, for the first time, I had everything done, supplies bagged up, present wrapped and even the card written, and everything sitting by the door, the DAY BEFORE the shower.

Before.

Folks, this is new for me. And do you want to know the result? I spent all morning anticipating the event with joy and cheer instead of stress and dread, rushing and cursing, which until now had been my normal mode leading up to events like this. It was a totally new and wonderful experience and I would highly recommend it to everyone.


We played Bridal Shower Bingo while Alicia opened her gifts. Here's the key if you ever play this game: fill out your card with generic categories like "housewares" and "kitchen utensils." You're sure to snag the prize.






The prizes! Found at Cost Plus for $2.99 each. A little twine goes a long way in my gift-wrapping endeavors.





Charlie helped me find a cute recipe card template online. Printed, cut, and ready to go. Guests were asked to write their personal recipes for a successful marriage =)