Home is here

What an odd thought home has become. Not what it used to be, but better than I thought it could be. I don’t think that home is a place any more, or else I would be wandering around trying to find it. I don’t think it’s a person, or a feeling, those tend to move in one side of your life and out the other in some form or fashion. I have come to believe that home is a heart matter. It’s a place where we meet the fulfillment of deep connection. We long for a place where we feel we can take our shoes off, and stretch out on the floor, but in fact, what is involved in that action that speaks to us so is our guard being let down, and hearts feeling free to be who we are. It’s comfortable, but more than that, its where we should always find ourselves. When we are truly at home… we stay there, no matter what moves in our lives.

Being here in Colorado surrounded by mountains, and new things, I find myself “at home.” Yes it helps that the air I breathe feels clean, and I have a jasmine plant hanging in my new room, and the love of my life kisses me on the cheek when he sees me in the morning, but all of those things are nothing in comparison to the home my heart has found in my sweet Jesus. He seems so bright and clear in the face of the strange and unknown.

Don’t get me wrong… I am in fact quite shaky, and vulnerable. I don’t know how to drive the roads here, and getting lost goes deeper than forgetting which turn to take.It bleeds into lots of places. Lost isn’t a great feeling. It isn’t prominent and doesn’t come often, only in small moments when I feel like a little girl who is pretending to be a big one. Just part of the process right?

I drove here in a car that didn’t have a prayer of making it…. but lots of those were offered up and I half glided, half dragged myself here, spluttering into the parking lot of my new home just in time. God kept filling my gas tank, and I drove all the way from Kentucky to Denver Colorado paying a little over $100 in gas for the WHOLE way! Provision. Miraculous. 

There are lots of words to use here. But mostly I will just say that I am learning the art of homemaking in a new way. Not just hanging pictures and picking flowers. But making a home for my heart, even in unfamiliar places. 

I have a bed! It’s big and fluffy, and far beyond what I expected to receive in my first week here. I also have windows that look out on the mountains, and a closet the length of my room. My stuff has found a home mostly, I just need to do a bit more good-willing. I am finding myself in cooking and rearranging. It feeds my soul and speaks to the places that are unsure of themselves. No matter where I go, I will ALWAYS feel at home in a kitchen, and in loving people through hospitality. Due to the fact that I process things through creating, and serving others.... my roommates and my boyfriend have been eating very well. :) 

Here are a few pictures I hurriedly took a few mornings ago... I made a gluten/refined sugar free gallette. Pear and rosemary, with orange curd. Lots of sea salt on the side.

The post where I say goodbye and hello at the same time.

Some of you, but not all of you, know that I am moving to Colorado.

If your response to that statement was, "what!? since when? what are you doing with your life Rachael??" Then click HERE.

If you are still calm, and fairly confident you know the reasons why I'm moving then read on.

Indeed it is happening.... FRIDAY APRIL 5TH!

 

 

I am so excited but it comes with a lot more than just excitement. There are a long string of emotions all tied together into a very awkward, unstable, complicated chain. And that chain is securely attached to my person. Somehow (God) I am staying grounded, and there have been no major meltdowns as of yet.
This is what I am:

-Expectant
-Overwhelmed
-Worried
-Thrilled
-Alive
-Too excited to sleep
-A little broken
-Fragile
-Determined
-Giddy
-Nervous
-At peace
...... and sure. Very sure that this is where God wants me. Sure that it is good for my heart. Sure that it I am doing the right thing.

Even if things feel weird. I am sure.

Today as I go through my desk at work there are little scraps of paper that are all that's left of moments in a season. When I stop by my mom's house to gather up my gluten free flours in a box I feel a bit pitiful that this is what I choose to carry across country with me.
I walk out doors and know I won't be walking back in them any time soon.
I hug people... I hug LOTS of people, and some of them would never hug me under normal circumstances, but all of them leave an imprint, and in that moment I realize whether or not I made an impact.
I do things for the last time.
And it's good! It's so good. It's just... that it's the last. time. 
I have been ready to move for awhile now. Not just to Colorado, which so happens to be the place God picked out for me, but I have been shuffling my feet under my desk at work and fidgeting with anything my hands can find for some time now, asking "when?."
When do I move? forward?

Awhile back God had given me the verses in Genesis that talk about Noah sending the dove out of the ark after the flood to see if the waters had receded. Noah let's the dove fly free out the window, but she circles around and never finds a place to land, so she comes back to his arms. He waits a bit, probably puts her back in her cage lovingly, and promises another flight soon, and then sends her out a second time. This time she comes back with an olive branch in her mouth. A sign of hope, but not one big enough to build a life on. The third time Noah releases his dove into the great beyond she never comes back.
She never come back because she found a home. A place that was good, and contained what she needed. A place to build a nest, and live a life, and do whatever doves do. All of the exhausting trips over the face of endless water when her wings ached, and her hope faltered were not in vain. They taught her that she needed to come back to the arms of her Master for seasons of rest, and that she wasn't in charge of when or where she got to land. They taught her patience, and that even when her cage felt like a prison, it was only meant to teach her to wait.

God told me I was that dove.
He told me that almost a year ago when I was still in the "going out and not finding anything" stage. I thought then, so there will be a day when the waters recede?
That day is Friday, April 5th 2013
This dove is off, flying on the wings that will always know their true home is in the arms of The Beloved, no matter where she lands.

In Colorado God has given me the gift of a ministry and suits who I am and what I'm good at. He has given me love deeper, and more precious than I thought I would ever find in a person. He has given me arms full of possibility. And he makes all things new.
I am fully aware that Colorado is not a state of perfection, and that it holds still more moments of failure or disappointment, but I am not going to let go of the olive branch that is His promise to be faithful to me.

So there you have it. This blog WILL remain! For my sanity, and creative steam-blower-offer (no, that's not a real word thing) but also because I want all of you to come with me!
I have no idea what life will look like for the next month or so, so bear with me. I may be able to post often, or hardly at all, and the posts could either be about food, or emotional outpourings you all know I'm so talented at producing. Either way, stick with me... It promises to be magical.



Your prayers are so needed as I make the two day trek in my disheveled car full of.... well, let's be real... dishes, and food. Mostly.
Isn't it lovely?
Also, I am still just short of my financial goal in raising enough to live on through the summer, so praying with me for God's provision would be so encouraging as well.
Love!


Talk more soon.

Life Tastes Good

 What if it tastes good.... does that mean it's good for me?
We are wired to think that something has to be hard, to be profitable. The term guilt-free dessert alludes to the fact that if you were to eat a bite of regular pie, it would damage you to the point of guilt! So maybe pie isn't the best for you, but it doesn't mean you aren't allowed to eat a piece now and then.
We do the same with life. 
"This feels good... it must not be."
"If I push myself to the point of being uncomfortable or afraid it will mean I'm conquering the bad, and ushering in the good." 
This is not always the case, especially where our lives as children of God are concerned. 
Good means good. True, we are called to step outside of our comfort zones at times, and God does use hard things to teach us. But He is a God of beauty! 
We can rest and not feel guilty. 
We can choose something that makes us feel happy, and know that He is in it. 
We can eat a piece of pie (or heck... two) and relish every bite of it. 
He has our good in His hand, no matter what form we receive it in. 
The trick is to say yes to what He offers.

I made a pie tonight because I could. Because it was good for my heart. And yes... I ate it out of the pan with a fork. God is good.

Thunder

Last night it thunder stormed, the first one of the spring. It was loud, and sweet, clean, and fierce. 

I was recounting the storm, and used the phrase "clap of thunder." 

Wait... what a beautiful idea! 

God... clapping. 

The boom we feel in our chests, it rings in our ears with power, controlling and commanding even our body language. We stop what we are doing, turn our faces, jump, gasp, pull our heads under the covers. God makes a mighty movement towards earth, and we all react, even if we aren't fully aware of who is making that noise. A clap of thunder. Whose hands are used to make that sound? 

This morning everyone is moving at normal pace again, busying themselves. Forgetting that last night they came in contact with their Maker. Forgetting that, if only for a moment, they heard the applause of heaven. 

" At this also my heart trembles, and leaps from it's place. 

Hear attentively the thunder of His voice, 

and the rumbling that comes from His mouth. 

He sends it forth under the whole heaven, 

His lightning to the ends of the earth.

After it a voice roars;

 He thunders with His majestic voice, 

and He does not restrain them when His voice is heard. 

God thunders marvelously with His voice; 

He does great things which we cannot comprehend."

-Job 37:1-5

Lighter and Fluffier

A Saturday morning! I found one....

Pancakes. You know you want them. My man of 10,000 miles away mentioned he wanted some last night via Skype, and I thought it sounded like a pretty great idea. So here they are. Grain free, and I actually got them fluffy this time around! I borrowed the recipe from nourishingdays, a really lovely blog you should read HERE.

Coconut Flour Pancakes

• 4 eggs, room temperature
• 1 cup coconut milk or 3/4 cup cream + 1/4 cup whole milk (best) or 3/4 cup whole milk yogurt + 1/4 cup whole milk (good)
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 1/2 cup coconut flour
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon sea salt
• coconut oil or butter for frying

Directions

1. Preheat griddle over medium-low heat. In a small bowl beat eggs until frothy, about two minutes. Mix in milk, vanilla, and honey.
2. In a medium-sized bowl combine coconut flour, baking soda, and sea salt and whisk together. Stir 3/4 of wet mixture into dry until coconut flour is incorporated. Allow to sit for 3-5 minutes.
3. At this stage your batter should be thick, almost like brownie batter. If it is still fairly thick and dry add the rest of the wet mixture.
4. Melt the coconut oil in the hot pan and fry pancakes about 2 minutes each side. I ate mine with butter and honey.

This post has been lighter and fluffier than my recent ones, which I'm sure some of you are glad about. It's ok to admit it, my brain was starting to hurt too. Sometimes God teaching us something is weighty words, and revelations.... other times its pancakes. 

Tablets of Flesh

*Sorry about all the foodless posts. Things have been so busy with cooking, and there are still thoughts to be voiced. I do add random pictures I've taken so I hope that helps.

 

We think we know who we are and what we are capable of... but then one
day, we look down at our hands and think "where did all this filth
come from?" It's a shocking (but not-so-new) realization that we. are.
not. clean.
Not sparkly, and well composed. Not on our own at least.
I find myself getting in this pattern of shushing myself, and my own
conscience. I sing myself a lullaby. I tell myself, "it's alright, you
make mistakes, God has so much grace for you." HE DOES, but my spirit
becomes numb from so many gentle pats on the back. Sometimes it's
important to stop and feel the weight, even if only for a moment, to
realize the brokenness of my own space. Even when I think my table has
been set JUST so... things are missing and out of place, and I
probably forgot to polish the silver.

But God says... "Clearly, you are an epistle of Christ, ministered by
us, written not with ink, but by the Spirit of the living God, not on
tablets of stone, but on tablets of flesh, that is, of the heart." (2
Cor 3:3)

God looks at us and sees us as Spirit filled ministers. We are a light
even in our own darkness.
I like how He says "clearly..." you are an epistle of Christ. As if to
say, "duh!" Of course I still think of you that way! He is so darn
good. Written on our hearts are words pressed deep, like a tattoo only
without the ink. The finger of God reached towards us... and wrote. I
don't know what it says, maybe it's a new language, or maybe WE can't
even see it, but when God reads the words He put there, He reads
Himself. He reads that we belong to Him.
As beautiful as it is, I still find myself asking how it's possible?
Especially on the days when I walk around looking put together, and
know inside everything is NOT ok. If they only knew....

"Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think of anything as
being from ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God." (vs 5)

That's how.

It's not possible for us to scrub anything away. But we wake up with
the dawn and we find that our insides once again match our outsides.
They always have, no matter how many other things creep into our
souls, beneath it all are written the words of God on their tablet of
flesh.

 



 

{being} Brave.

"But being brave also means waking up to your today responsibilities (no matter what they are) and then moving into them as the person you most fully are – with all of your unique desire, personality, and creativity.

Sometimes today will mean doing something risky or new.

Most times it just means doing the same thing I did yesterday.

Either way, the point is my life with Christ and his life in me."

- Emily P. Freeman

 

 

.... doing the same thing I did yesterday.

It makes me want to be Job, and put my hand over my mouth. What am I saying? Why am I complaining?

But I am.

I'm complaining allot.

Some days mundane doesn't really seem so to me. I'm naturally aware of it's beauty. But I found myself staring out the window at the gigantic, wet snowflakes pouring down the other day, and for maybe the first time ever, I thought, "go away."

I shocked myself in even thinking that, so I followed it up with, "what's wrong with you?!"

Nothing is wrong with me.... my non-snowflake-loving-self is always present, I just don't normally choose her. Lately I have found myself having to be brave when I wake up in the morning. I open my eyes and have that moment where I let all the breath out of me and think "ok, I can do this, again." And putting my feet on the floor seems like a defining moment. It's not that everything in my life is really that difficult right now, but it certainly is not comfortable.

My point in saying all this is 1). Honesty 2). Desire for those who read this to feel the ground beneath all of us become level. and 3). Because saying it out loud makes me feel like I can step over it.

 

I can be brave all day long.

I can crash through the day like a bull in a china shop, breaking every dish along the way.

I can fake it, and then cry as soon as I'm alone.

I can let everyone around me have it.

But no matter what I do with myself each day, I STILL remain who I have always been. Rachael. The one who really does love snowflakes.

I can enter into normal, quiet, hard, not-magical things as the person God created me to be, and by my presence there I can transform dust to light.

I know this in the back of my mind, but I have to choose it as well.

Will you choose it with me?

 

*picture cred to Donna Carr Photography :)