Well Written Wednesdays: it is mine

Reading by Candlelight by Matheius Stom

"Fly to the Word of God, then, in every sorrow! You will know more of the mind and heart of God than you, perhaps, ever learned in all the schools before. Draw, then, O child of sorrow, your consolation from God’s Word.

"Oh, clasp this precious Word of comfort to your sorrowful heart, and exclaim, 'It is mine! The Jesus of whom it speaks is mine, the salvation it reveals is mine, the promises it contains are mine, the heaven it unveils is mine, and all the consolation, comfort, and sympathy which wells up from these hidden springs, is mine.'"

-Octavius Winslow in The Precious Things of God

thing #5: a discipline of humility

Spring Flowers by J.W.W.

Fifth sequel to this post.

In at least one respect, I am still a three-year-old: I always ask "why." (Why did you say that? Why do we believe this? Why does that work? Why is this happening?) So of course, I have often asked "why" of my current circumstances.

Recently D.A Carson wrote some really helpful thoughts on this matter-- i.e. trying to find a reason for suffering-- and two points stuck out to me.

First, we cannot always know why.

In any suffering, or in any other event for that matter, God is doubtless doing many things, perhaps thousands of things, millions of things, even if we can only detect two or three or a handful . . . sometimes we have to cover our mouths and confess, in faith, that we cannot possibly grasp all that God is doing when someone suffers.

Second, however, we should be ready to accept trials as discipline and to repent of any sin they are highlighting.

God may be speaking to us in the language of a wise heavenly Father who chastens those he loves. Such chastening may be God's response to specific sins in our lives; it may be a more general way of toughening us up in this broken world so we will stop thinking that God owes us good health, or that our clean living and organic food guarantees us long and robust life.  

Oooh. That last part. Humility in my pursuit of natural health was also something God pressed upon me during our season of infertility. It's so easy for me to slip into arrogance. Whenever I see good results from my efforts, the puff of pride begins.

With my skin, though, I have nothing to be proud about; I make tiny steps of progress now and then, I figure out something that helps, but mostly I just don't know what to do. I don't know the why. And then I must admit that all my kale smoothies and probiotics and organic shampoos, no matter how much I love them, are no guaranteed salvation. I cannot presume to control my health, for I am in God's hands, not my own.

It is a good place to be.

creamy Parmesan chicken

This picture amused me.

Ol' Pinterest is a great way to collect and organize potential recipes. And yes, I do actually use what I find there! This one was taken from my poultry board.

I applaud any recipe that makes chicken breasts-- so simple and easy to find, but often so dull-- into an interesting dinner. This dish is moist and flavorful and very easy to pull together. Serve over rice or quinoa, with a green salad on the side.

---

Creamy Parmesan Chicken
(original at The Recipe Critic, where you can also see a tantalizing picture)

4 skinless, boneless chicken breasts
1/3 cup mayonnaise
1/3 cup sour cream
1/3 cup grated Parmesan cheese + a bit extra
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon ground black pepper

1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees and lightly coat 9x13 baking dish with nonstick spray.
2) Pound chicken breasts to about 3/4-inch thickness so they will cook evenly. (Instead of pounding, I simply cut a slit in the thickest part of the breast and flattened it out.) Arrange in prepared baking dish.
3) Stir together remaining ingredients, except for extra Parmesan, and spread evenly over chicken breasts. Sprinkle reserved Parmesan on top.
4) Bake chicken for 45 minutes, just until cooked through (check at 40 minutes in case your oven runs hot).

Well Written Wednesdays: how many breakfasts you can eat

Another from The Crossing. Told you I loved it. This section made me laugh. NB: McCarthy has an odd way of writing certain contractions. (He seems to have an aversion to apostrophes, not to mention commas.)

He slid into the booth and laid the papers on the table and looked at the menu. When the waitress came he started to order the plate lunch but she said that lunch didnt start till eleven oclock. She said he could get breakfast.

I've done eat one breakfast today.

Well we dont have no city ordinance about how many breakfasts you can eat.

How big of a breakfast can I get?

How big of a one can you eat?

I've got a mealticket from the recruitin office.

I know it. I see it layin yonder.

Can I get four eggs?

You just tell me how you want em.

She brought the breakfast on an oblong crockery platter with the four eggs over medium and a slice of fried ham and grits with butter and she brought a plate of biscuits and a small bowl of gravy.

You want anything else you let me know, she said.

All right.

You want a sweetroll?

Yes mam.

You need some more coffee?

Yes mam.

He looked up at her. She was about forty years old and she had black hair and bad teeth. She grinned at him. I like to see a man eat, she said.

Well, he said. You're lookin at one I believe ought to meet your requirements.

-from The Crossing by Cormac McCarthy

thing #4: gratitude in the minute

My Sweet Rose by J.W. Waterhouse

Fourth sequel to this post. Goodness, there's much more to this series than I thought. Perhaps that always results from actively looking for God's work? :)

For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel,

"In returning and rest you shall be saved;

in quietness and in trust shall be your strength."

-Isaiah 30:15

By minute I mean both "measure of time" and "adjective denoting smallness."

In this period of frequent discomfort, I've learned to prize the tiniest moments of relief, to really rest in them. I have often spoiled such moments by worrying about future trials. (Sure, my face feels okay now, but what about tomorroooooow? and then I stress myself out and make everything worse.) Instead, God's taught me to enjoy each bit of peace He provides, praising Him for the gift so long as it lasts. A blessing need not be permanent to be enjoyed. At least, that's what I am finding.

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord."
-Job 1:21

Even something as apparently insignificant as a cool, refreshing breeze deserves gratitude. A fleeting grace is still a grace.

Also, I am indeed obsessed with Pre-Raphaelite paintings. Waterhouse seems to have one for every post in this series, so eh, why not?