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Showing posts from August, 2012

This is NOT a Food Blog...But, I Do Like to Cook

So, have I mentioned lately how much I adore being surprised by elderly church goers who also happen to be flaming liberals in sweater set and pearl drag?

Which pretty much sums up the love fest I had on Sunday post sermon...

And, floating on that high we headed out to dinner on Sunday night (following a trip to urgent care for the boyo who has what looks like an ear infection).  Which means...

That we are behind on eating through our CSA box (a la a certain very, hungry, caterpillar). Thus, a veggie loaded (not that we ever have any other kind of meal) dinner was on the menu.  Tonight I improvised a bean/quinoa/corn bowl and I wanted to share it with you, because it was oh so very good!

1 cup quinoa2 cups water
1/2 onion
2-4 cloves of garlic (depending on your preferences, I used 3) minced2 pattypan squash, dicedthe kernels from 2 ears of fresh, sweet corn (I stand the corn up in a serving bowl, hold the cob firmly, and run a knife between the cob and the kernels--the bowl catches the …

Sermon for 16B, You Can't Light Your Flaming Arrows Alone

Ephesians 6:10-20; John 6: 56-69 (click on the link for the texts as well as psalm and Hebrew Scriptures for the day)
When I was a pediatric hospital chaplain the staff requested that I, the first chaplain they'd ever really had at the hospital, wear my collar.  This set me apart from the rest of the staff rather dramatically--in my black clergy shirt and white collar I sometimes felt like the harbinger of doom.   I frequently had to explain to folks that I visited EVERYONE, not just families whose children were dying (and not just Christians).  However, despite this rather significant drawback to my uniform, I found that being set apart allowed everyone to clearly identify my role in a crisis.  In my clericals, people knew who I was and I could go and be where other hospital staff could not.
But what proved most essential about the collar was the link it provided between me and my community.  It allowed me to feel the weight of 2000 years of tradition and the institution of the chu…

Armor of God, Amor of God

This post was the seed of the sermon that I eventually preached for 16B, you'll notice that a good chunk of it ended up on the chopping block and a good chunk got rearranged into the actual sermon...

The propers for this coming Sunday include the Ephesians' 6 passage on garbing oneself with the armor of God.

Which causes me to ponder the various ways in which I have found the metaphorical "armor" to be essential as I've gone about my work and my life.

When I was a pediatric hospital chaplain the staff requested that I, the first chaplain they'd ever really had at the hospital, wear my collar.  This set me apart from the rest of the staff rather dramatically--in my black clergy shirt and white collar I sometimes felt like the harbinger of doom.   I frequently had to explain to folks that I visited EVERYONE, not just families whose children were dying (and not just Christians).  However, despite this rather significant drawback to my uniform, I found that bein…

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

I have a new post up at The Mama Lake...musings on the use of the phrase "good baby".

A post inspired by the individual who asked us yesterday if our son was a "good boy".

And, the short answer is

"he's two"

And, the long answer has something to do with neuroscience, the age of reason and whether or not I am a good parent (or at least a parent who understands the challenges of raising another human being to be decent and kind and generous and loving...with major bonus points awarded for not inconveniencing or otherwise discomfiting anyone who interacts with our child).