Comfort Food for the Trampled Soul ~ plus giveaway winner {Take Heart…in the Quest for Wholeness}

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We pull our chopsticks from their wax paper wrappers, snap them apart and graze them against one another, like twigs starting a fire or iron sharpening iron, to smooth out the splinters while our food steams and cooks in the kitchen.

I turn the English and pinying side of the menu over to the real menu, the one my friend reads. I search the code for familiar symbols. She points to the boxes, lines and curves that she’s just spoken softly for our waitress, and teaches me how to recognize the characters. I keep up the work on the chopsticks while I practice my language skills. Curls of wood settle on the worn table. I flip the menu over to my cheat sheet and then back again to study the hanzi.

First, the waitress brings out a plate of snow peas. Then, another of stir-fried eggs and tomatoes. And my friend tells me how her grandparents made this for her in the countryside where she spent her girlhood sick in bed.

I lean closer to hear her faint voice. I focus my eyes on her mouth, reading her lips as she ekes out the words from her trampled soul. She winces always, as if something is coming right for her, and now I’m starting to understand why. Her parents had sent her away, their one child a disappointment on the Darwinian scale, barely surviving, unfit.

I look out the door of the restaurant at the wooden crate, a rickety step upholstered in red carpet. Yarny fibers collapse under the load of automobile crud, spittle and vegetable scraps. I hear her meaning through the language gap. She bends under her own load, wondering if she’s born to be trodden underfoot.

We dig our chopsticks into the comfort food and scrape it into our bowls, onto soft beds of white rice. Her words come out quiet like a prayer filtered into a feathery pillow.

“But when I see the film,” she recalls scenes from the movie based on Luke’s telling of Jesus’ ministry, “how He loves the sick…I am very surprised- very surprised!”

I lay my chopsticks across the rice bowl. I picture my friend laying down on her cot in the countryside, mostly dead like Jairus’ daughter, except my friend didn’t have a daddy calling out to Jesus for her.

But Jesus, He who laid down his own life to raise her up, He found her nonetheless.

Here she is across the table telling me about Him with her round face like the moon reflecting some distant glory. She clasps her hands over her heart. And I have to do the like. I bring my hand first to rest on my chest and then to cover my mouth. I want to say His name out loud in the middle of this place that is scared of Him. If only they knew His meekness, quietness, how He changes the diagnosis with a gentle touch.

“He sees you,” I tell her, “He knows your need.” She  feels this already and opens her eyes, not wincing like before.

We put our smoothed-out chopsticks to work. Ginger and sesame oil trickle from our comfort food, hit the taste buds and slide to the core, nourishing. She is quickened, suddenly feeling her worth under the care of our Great Physician.

Reposted from the archives (with recipe!).

 

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This week in our Take Heart series we’re talking about the quest for wholeness, whether physical or emotional. As my pastor reminded us in church this past Sunday, we are beings made up of body and spirit, which together form our complete nature, designed by God. Randy Alcorn shares the same concept in his book Heaven, explaining that God intended humankind to be both earthly and spiritual. We’d love to hear how God has helped you take heart in the midst of your own struggles with sickness, disease, or emotional trauma…anything in your quest for wholeness. Start writing and share your post in our link-up tomorrow. And finally, our winner of last week’s “Nest: A Study in Brokenness” giveaway from Be Small Studios (chosen at random) is commenter #6, Jenna Woestman!

The Wardrobe Picked Out for You {Free Baby Shower Printables!}

Her dress stretched taut over her belly like fabric tightened across a needlepoint hoop. It was her third hiding in there, a girl after two boys. But no matter how many times I had seen it happen (or felt it happen), it could never get old, the chance to witness this moment by moment making, expanding, knitting together of a life in secret.

High chair, car seat, and crib were all tried and tested by two big brothers in their own babyhood, sure things for baby sister. All she really needed was a little pink and pretty in the nursery closet. And so, I hung tissue paper tutus from the ceiling and meditated on the words from the invitation, how the great Designer, He who arrays the lilies in splendor, has a wardrobe picked out for us.

I balanced a pastel yellow romper on the spinning hoop that held relics of family history. I had seen this outfit in recent baby photos and those of two generations past on my sister-in-law’s side. Yes, three generations of mothers had shooed away stains, repaired weak seams, and miraculously kept the outfit in one piece. And they did the same for the children who wore it, in compassion tending to scraped knees and sensitive souls coming apart at the seams. Next to the romper swayed my satin baby shoes, small enough for preemie feet, a token of kindness brought to my mother as she bowed over my incubator. Across the circle’s diameter, loops of yellow fastened my sister-in-law’s sunbonnet to the rack, cotton and lace held together with hidden threads, a head-covering of humility shielding glory of the sun. I rubbed my fingers over the hem of my sister’s pink baby dress. A tiny embroidered doe looked back in quiet strength, that mysterious thing our mother passed down. Nearby, a single leather toddler shoe dangled alone, its twin lost in Grandpa’s boyhood. It hung as a tribute to dedication and discipline, the will to keep running even when you are only half ready.

We lined up for brunch and talked with our mouths full. We decorated little dress cookies in polka dots and floral motifs. We guessed at the origins of the heirloom baby clothes and said our oohs and ahs at new pieces that would someday turn keepsake. And then we gave her something to hang it all on, bringing out all of the good stuff we wanted to see in this baby girl that had so beautifully shown up in her mama’s life already.

“So, chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline.” -Colossians 3:12

We picked our words and wrote them for keeps on heirloom hangers for baby’s closet. I thought of the hard work my sister-in-law had put in to get her Master’s Degree in Accounting and all the late nights studying to pass the test to become a CPA, how she had saved up to buy herself a Cadillac in college, how she had trained hard to compete in track and field in high school. I knew what I was going to write on my baby wardrobe hanger. This baby was going to know the happy side of discipline, the joy that comes at the end of the pain.

When my sister-in-law packed up her things for the hospital, she tossed in the discipline hanger and a pretty little baby dress. She didn’t know it then, but she had grabbed that hanger for a reason. Motherly muscles clenched short and tight, hardly a break between. She wasn’t sure how to get through it. She was counting on the epidural, but it failed. Contractions stayed strong, rolling over one another. She thought she hadn’t prepared for this. But she had. She looked at the words on the hanger and her thoughts spanned years. She remembered breathing through runner’s cramps, enduring long nights of studying to get the grade, and the sacrifice of saving up for something she really wanted. She had worn this before, this dress of discipline. And she could wear it again now. She could put on the thing God picked out for her, let Him take ragged pain and tailor it into joy.

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How to hostess your own Baby Girl Wardrobe Party:

1. Print invitations from free printable below and fill in your party details in the open space. Send to guests four weeks in advance.

2. Plan your menu. For ours my mom made some delicious varieties of quiche that we paired with a spinach berry salad, ham and cheese tartines with radish, and an orange cake (which I forgot to decorate with the orange slices. Oops.). To drink we had sweet tea and, of course, pink lemonade.

3. Buy enough wooden heirloom hangers so that each guest can decorate one, plus set aside a few extras for decor. Get thin-line permanent markers in orange, pink, brown, black and other colors that match the theme of the party. Print Colossians 3:12 table tents from the free printables below. Have guests choose their favorite characteristic and relate it to mother and baby, coming up with a personal story or words of encouragement. Have them write their chosen word on the front of the hanger and their words of encouragement and their signature on the back. (Optional: Have each attendee share her words as the guest of honor opens her particular gift.)

4. To make tissue paper tutus, follow the instructions for making tissue paper flowers. Simply leave the two halves of each flower separate and you’ll have little tissue paper skirts. Print the GIRL letters from the free printables below, cut them out, glue them back to back and punch holes in the top. Use ribbon to tie wooden hangers to removable hooks on the ceiling, Then tie letters and tutus to each hanger. See photo in blog entry above.

5. Make dress-shaped cookies. (I got my cookie cutter here.) Get small squeeze tubes of decorating gel in a variety of colors from your local craft store. After attendees decorate the dresses, have the guest of honor choose her favorite. For the winner, you may want to have a wardrobe prize handy, such as a fashion scarf, bracelet or hat.

6. Gather vintage baby wardrobe pieces from both sides of the family. Hang them either on a rod across a doorway or on a hoop hanging from a stairwell. (Optional: have vintage photos of various family members as babies attached to the corresponding outfit.) Have guests write down their guesses for who wore the item and what year. Guest(s) with the most correct win a prize.

Click below to download free Baby Girl Wardrobe Party printables!

BabyWardrobePartybyDarcyWiley1of2

BabyWardrobePartybyDarcyWiley2of2