Life called just when I lost signal.

I've missed my life calling.

As I stood at the kitchen counter, chopping zucchini with one hand, sauteing bacon and onions in butter with the other and checking on the homemade stuffing with my free hand (yes, I have three hands. Doesn't that explain a lot now?), I realized that this was what I've always, always loved to do. Perhaps it was the smell of fresh bacon that did it, or maybe catching myself narrating each step of my original recipe aloud was the clincher, but suddenly, it hit me.

I've missed my life calling as a TV chef.

Yes, the Food Network is my true home. After years of studying the English language and nearly blinding myself with pouring over its treasured tomes of literature, my passion rears its creative head, not in writing, but in cooking. I take great pride in flipping the perfect omelette, in minced onion blended with mashed garlic and spread over a toasted, buttered baguette just so. I narrate to myself constantly, inventing sometimes-bizarre meals out of basic ingredients (ergo, the advent of the Muen-dog Omelette), or testing a made-up a recipe for baked stuffed zucchini because I was bored and hungry (recipe soon to follow!). And yeah, I did just whip out homemade ice cream. Oh, you don't like ice cream? That's ok--I got more concoctions up my sleeve that you can even guess. I'm a kitchen fiend. Throwing seven different kinds of smoke over the stove here. Oh wait...sorry, no, that's the steam from MY HOMEMADE LONDON BROIL. If I wasn't me, I would totally marry myself.

Four years of college misdirected. Twenty-two years' energy wasted. Thousands of appetites left empty, possibly millions of empty stomachs, all starving, because I never taught them how to make my special holiday version of snickerdoodle cookies.

There's my plans put to shame. Oh wait...I don't have any plans anymore.

Looks like I'm setting up a videocamera in my kitchen and finally putting my YouTube account to good use.

BOOM. ROASTED.
__________________________

Baked Stuffed Zucchini

Ingredients:
1 large (or 2 medium) zucchini
1 box Stouffer's Whole Wheat Stuffing
1/4 cup onion, minced
4 strips cooked bacon, minced
1 1/3 cups water (for stuffing)
1 1/2 tbs butter (for stuffing)

Prep time: 15 minutes
Bake time: 20-25 minutes

Prepare stuffing as directed on box. Boil zuccini whole for 8 minutes, turning at 4 minutes to evenly cook. When done, cut zucchini into quarters, and scoop out the pulp, chopping it finely. Place the zucchini quarters in greased baking pan. Saute the bacon and onion together, and add to the stuffing. Combine stuffing mixture and chopped pulp. Spoon mixture into zucchini quarters and bake at 350 for 20-25 minutes.

This is Part A, because I'm convinced Part B will follow.

I didn't think it would be like this.

Frustrating, sure. Moneyless, absolutely. Only a lucky few college graduates walk off the platform and into a full-time, permanent job. The rest of us press into the workforce, fired up and ready to hand out resumes to whomever will take them.

But not deadening. Not suffocating. Didn't see that one coming.

I get that some level of disillusionment is normal. I understand that, after such an adrenaline-drenched experience as college, the process of coming down off that high is often an emotionally brittle time. I also realize that trying to reason this with your heart only goes so far.

In all honesty, I'm not worried about the job search itself; there will always be jobs for people willing to work. No, it's that I think I've burned the candle at both ends so long that I've burnt myself out, long before I even got started on what really matters. I feel like I've used up all my energy and talents, so that there is very little left to work with. That's not exactly a comforting realization at the onset of a job search meant to propel the searcher into a fulfilling and decently well-paying career of...well, we'll get to that.

The only thing I know these days is this: Deus providebit.

Then again...isn't that all we ever need to know?

Philosophia

I'm home.

I love Kansas City. I love the back roads and the barbecue shacks and the Spanish-style plaza downtown. I love how the early morning sun hits the skyline right where 23rd Street crests between Independence and downtown. I love the barely-tamed Wild West feel of the River City Market and the steep hills throughout the city blocks leading to the library, where the outside steps are painted as book spines and the soaring columns are obscured by the trees. I love the jazz music floating down 18th and Vine, where dark, shabby men carry upright basses and trombone cases to the Blue Room for an improv jam session. The bright blue Royals Stadium looked luminous from the highway, a massive half-spere in the floodlights of a twilight game. Some evenings were s'mores over the fire pit, some were nights out on the Plaza or swimming in a friend's pool, and other nights were storytelling on Skype, intent on weaving the thread of daily life into another's day. 

Those two months in Kansas City became a lifetime and a lifeline, both linking me to this new home and keeping me away from those I loved before, itself a bridge and a wall. 

So now, I am home, and another chapter of my life is about to begin. I'm glad I went, so glad I stayed out there, but it's good to rest where the homes of those I love correspond with the location of all my stuff :) 

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers, especially now that I'm back to job searching. And keep on reading--maybe one day soon you'll find that I have something interesting to say!

Cheapskate Innovation

Muen-dog Omelette
- 1 egg
- 1 slice of Muenster cheese
- 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
- 1 grilled, cold hotdog

Using a cheese grater, shred the hotdog and saute it in a small frying pan on medium for five minutes with the olive oil. Whip the egg and pour it into the pan to create an even layer of egg and shredded hot dog. When the egg mixture is ready, place the slice of cheese on one half of the pan and fold, making an omelette. Voila!

Beautiful Blueberry Breakfast
- 1 Bagel Thin
- 1/2 cup blueberries
- cream cheese

Toast the bagel, spread with cream cheese, and arrange blueberries on one half of the bagel. Place other half of bagel on top, prepare yourself for deliciousness.

Peanut Butter Fried Rice (recipe courtesy of Jennifer Jacquet)
- 1 large takeout container of white rice
- 1/3 cup peanut butter
- 3 teaspoons soy sauce
- 3 tablespoons vegetable oil

Mix peanut butter, soy sauce and oil in a frying pan to melt. Add rice and stir until all is coated. Could also add in chopped peanuts, green onions and cooked chicken!

Donne Undone

Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine and seek to mend;

That I may rise, and stand, overthrow me, and bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.

I, like a usurpt town, to another due,

Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end,

Reason, your viceroy in me, I should defend,

But is captive, and proves weak or untrue.

Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,

But am betrothed unto your enemy:

Divorce me, untie or break that know again;

Take me to you, imprison me, for I 

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chast, except you ravish me.

- John Donne, Holy Sonnet 74. "Batter my heart" (update language mine)


Donne was a master of the extended metaphor (although English teachers would tell you they're called metaphysical conceits) and wove together seemingly unrelated topics to construct a vibrant image.

Did you catch that he compared his heart to a city under the devil's rule ("I, like a usurpt town, to another due"), and that Donne is begging God to come into his heart ("I...Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end"). Maybe you noticed that Donne sees himself as married to the devil ("...betrothed unto your enemy:") and is begging God is sever that relationship ("Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again:"). Does it surprise you that Donne begs for God to pull him into himself, to ravish, enthrall, imprison him? Are you shocked at Donne's brutal, warlike tone? Are you offended?

Why?

Some people are offended by a poem of such passion for God, such angst and rawness of heart, or misunderstand the rawness of emotion as sacrilegious towards a pure God. I envy Donne's ability to craft an image out such incongruent pieces, and I envy his openness of heart that allowed him to release that passion. I don't think God minds it at all when we burst open with love and passion for him. In the last lines, Donne is overwhelmed with his brokenness and filth and begs God to clean him up and bring him back to himself. It's a praise, a lament and a salvation story all in one.

Wouldn't it be worse if Christians were always socially appropriate and dutiful, always proper and politically correct? When did it become such an outrage to be fiery, outspoken people of such love and passion that offends rather than sits back in silence? Do you think the Apostle Paul was a wallflower, or that Peter was known as the one who always said the right thing?

Every time I think I'm doing alright, some other deficiency gapes back at me, or some rough spot rasps out to be filed down. Some days I ride too high, and once I've fallen off and see how far I've wandered, I ache for God to take back my heart, to be divorced from the power that rules the self. But it's not just God that makes this happen - I have to move, too. It's the both of us working out salvation, it's God who readies my hands for action and my heart for love.

I'm still a work in progress (but aren't we all?). I wish I could write as fluidly as Donne, with his vivid images and gripping style, but I'm just not there yet. I wish I could be as outspoken about my faith and convictions as Donne, but then again, God is still working all that out in me, and that part's not finished yet.

I'm not Donne yet, because I'm not done yet.

Chopsticks

I'm pretty sure God eats with chopsticks, which is to say...

one bite at a time.

No more than needed for a mouthful, enough to satisfy, no less than what is required. Spoons overflow, forks shovel , knives disintegrate, but chopsticks hold just the right size piece, filling our mouth without making us gasp for air around an over-large bite. He knows that anyone can choke on too much of a good thing.

~~~~~~

I'm pretty sure God gives us grace with chopsticks, which is to say...

one day at a time.

No more than we need for the day, enough to strengthen, sustain and grow, never less than what we require. God knows we could hoard his grace, choking on too much of a good thing, so he gives us enough for one day at a time, always reminding us he's got plenty more for tomorrow.

~~~~~~

Thank God for chopsticks.

Harry and the Potters

1.) There is a band playing in Kansas City called Harry and the Potters. It is two brothers who dress up in wizard's robes and sing their own songs, like "Voldemort Can't Stop the Rock", "Save Ginny Weasley from Dean Thomas" and "Felix Felicis (Eighth Clockwise Stir Mix)". I actually went to their concert, dying a little on the inside with every song. Thankfully, your jealously needn't go unfulfilled. They are currently on tour all over the nation this summer, stopping in Philadelphia and Boston.

You're welcome.

4.) For those of you who remember that I had NO clue what my job would entail, let me tell you now:

I edit. All the time. I rewrite awkward sentences and check scriptural references for accuracy and punctuation, and sometimes I give the axe - brutally, bloodily, with great satisfaction - to wordy, repetitive, diction-challenged sentences that just repeat themselves in a circular fashion. (You see what I just did there? Exactly.)

I have my own office/cubicle section with a huge window facing out towards the city skyline and a fantastic view of the NPH parking lot. On good days, I will tell you that I like the quiet nature of my work, sitting in a secluded corner with some fresh coffee (Starbucks in a Dunkin's mug, oh the humanity!), reading through the work of dozens of respected authors who set the spiritual tone for that publication and having the authority to edit such work as I see fit. My most recent project is editing a book by a famous author whose works are on the shelf of nearly every pastor and religion major - talk doing something worthwhile! I enjoy discussing the proper placing of an m-dash or how to reference a sermon both written and preached. On those days, I am wholly an introvert and it feels empowering to be around people who understand the importance of sentence structure and correct punctuation.

But on bad days, I dread the isolation of my cubicle, when the only other people around are other editors with their office doors shut, concentrate on their own work.   On those days, the silence is oppressive and I can't help but envy the Barefoot Ministries office down the hallway that plays round-robin pingpong off their desks. My computer screen is very old, so the screen flickers  just enough that you feel as if your eyes will shrivel up and rot. Because I mostly edit curriculum (Sunday school lessons, Bible studies, quarterly devotions and magazines - and most recently, books!), the writing tends to be somewhat repetitive.

The managers of all the departments usually talk up their interns with other departments and recommend them for jobs and projects so they will get useful experience and feedback.  I overheard someone say once that they don't envy interns in my department, because that manager keeps to himself so that no one else knows who his intern is or how they are doing. In other words, the interns in my department leave the publishing house with few connections and little feedback to bolster their experience.

Well, that's depressing. So, I had two choices: be crushed and disappointed that no one will ever see my work, or make myself known on my own terms without relying on someone else to do it for me.

If you are reading this right now, you have some sort of relationship with me, be it casual acquaintance or life partner. You already know I picked Option Two.

The good thing about my personality type is extreme optimism, sheer nerve, ability to multi-task, a can-do spirit. That, combined with the conviction that God led me here--against all odds, against my inclinations and against every argument for financial responsibility--made me feel, well....unassailable.

I can do this. Living out here, driving around the prairie, getting lost every ten minutes, working proactively, texting in the office and not getting caught....yes, they are all in my grasp!

A little gumption, a little initiative, some guts and ample prayer. I can do this!