Doing the Mediterranean Diet on a Budget

It’s no secret that food prices are soaring, and this affects everyone. We’re feeding a family of four, and we’re trying to do this without overspending. I didn’t really start tracking our spending scrupulously until the last couple of months, and they’re not indicative of how we usually eat and spend food money. In December, we hosted a gathering or two and ate at other people’s homes, so that threw us off. And for January, we had to restock from eating down the food in the freezer and pantry before our Christmas travels. I decided to see how we did between mid-January and mid-February, and that was also a little wonky because we’d bought different food for our Superbowl spread. Given that, I suspect what we spent was a little higher than normal.

As everyone who knows me knows, our family has been following the Mediterranean lifestyle/diet/way of eating for almost nine months now. The price of the food in this lifestyle kept me from adopting it for my family for years, but I took the plunge when blood panels showed that my cholesterol had gotten higher than it needed to be. Yes, it was expensive to start, and we transitioned in. In other words, we didn’t trash or donate all the food we had and buy entirely new. That would’ve been foolish, as we’d just restocked the week prior to starting this. However, I’ve been seeing where we’ve saved so much money along the way. So, while, yes, some things are quite expensive, we buy them less frequently. I wanted to share with y’all how we shop and some things I’ve learned along the way.

In one month, we spent $521.41 on groceries for a family of four. That felt like a crazy-high amount for us, and I’m challenging myself to see how I can drop it lower.

There are groceries we buy weekly, monthly, and every few months.

Weekly: Fresh vegetables in season, though year-around this includes cucumbers, baby spinach, onions, and carrots. This can also include celery, mushrooms, potatoes, romaine lettuce, butternut squash, or cabbage as recipes require. We work seasonal vegetables into dinners in their time. For example, this time of year we’ll eat butternut squash, but it won’t be showing up on the grill come July.

Frozen vegetables, usually cauliflower, broccoli, green beans, and Brussel’s sprouts

Whole milk, eggs, whole milk plain Greek yogurt, chickpeas. We also meal plan and buy whatever we need for the meals for the week.

Every other week: Fresh fruit in season, canned tuna.

Monthly: Whole wheat pasta, chicken breasts and thighs, dates, oatmeal (we always have three different cuts in the pantry), raisins, Dave’s Killer Bread (powerseed), whole wheat flour, fresh cheeses (mozzarella and feta), whole wheat couscous, quinoa, frozen fish.

Less frequently: Chopped walnuts; sunflower seeds; pepitas; raw honey; pure maple syrup; spices, herbs, and spice blends; yeast; lemon juice; extra virgin olive oil; pork; beef; farro by the case; balsamic vinegars; peanut butter.

If you look at that list, you’ll notice that some things are cheaper–frozen vegetables and produce in season. Some things are also more expensive. Dave’s Killer Bread is quite costly. Because of that, we eat less store-bought bread. A loaf easily lasts us a month or more. We used to be big fans of luncheon meat sandwiches, but they’re not a part of this lifestyle, so we eat fewer sandwiches overall and only a half-sandwich at a time. The more expensive things we use very sparingly and rely instead on the cheaper foods like…

OATMEAL! Yummy! Steel-cut oats cooked in milk with some medjool dates and cinnamon mixed in… That’s some kind of hearty, comforting breakfast right there–and it won’t leave you hanging around mid-morning, hangry until you can get a snack.

Chickpeas! This was the hardest sell for me because I’m just not a legume/lentil person. I’ll eat them in soups, but that’s about it. I could eat hummus with no problem. However, I discovered salads with chickpeas, and I got used to their taste and texture. They’re rich in protein and fiber and cheap! I can stretch a $1 can of these little gems to feed my family of four with no problem at all.

I buy a bag of brown rice for about a dollar a pound. I used to spend a dollar on a 5-ounce package of rice mix that had a lot more sodium, about twice the calories as a serving of brown rice, and would only go for one meal. We eat much less cheese than we used to and do so with intention. We only eat red meat a couple of times a month at most. Since it’s like a treat, we aren’t just throwing together meatloaf. We’re planning that meal and rejoicing over it. I kid you not, my tween and I are already planning on grilling hamburgers for one of our red meat meals this summer–as soon as we thin down all the pork in the freezer.

The Mediterranean lifestyle is largely plant-based, so most of our protein comes from non-meat sources. This makes it easier to be cheap with our eats while still keeping ourselves healthy. With food prices increasing like they are, eating less animal protein keeps our food bills more reasonable, and we’ve gotten creative about how to use the meat we have.

We also do a great deal of big-batch cooking. We’ll make whole wheat bread, two loaves at a time. Favorites, especially this time of year, include gumbo, taco soup, tomato soup, butternut squash soup, and spaghetti sauce. These dishes fill a Dutch oven or slow cooker, and though they may be a little more expensive to make for one hit, these actually last us at least two meals, sometimes three to four. In the end, they’re still cheap eats AND–bonus for the soccer/church mom!!!–time savers! Thaw the leftovers, chuck ’em in the slow cooker, and dinner is done when we roll in the door. We don’t buy the broths these dishes call for, either. I freeze any chicken stock I end up with and can both vegetable stock and turkey bone broth. We LOVE having these ingredients on hand all the time when we need them.

Lean times while also trying to be healthy call for creativity in the kitchen. It is my hope that this helps guide you in thinking about ways to make your food budget stretch further, especially if you’re also trying to feel your family healthy, nutritious meals.

Miss Me With Your Bigotry

There are some things that most everyone who knows anything about me knows.

1. I’ve matured to be more progressive in my faith.
2. I am called to practice inclusion because the Kingdom of God is inclusive.
3. I’m a Christ follower.
4. We homeschool.

While we are homeschoolers and Christians, we aren’t Christian homeschoolers. Christian homeschoolers bring to mind, at worst, those homeschooling families who are very reclusive, maybe a little bit weird. They’re sort of the (bad) stereotype of homeschooling. Some Christian homeschoolers use only Christian curricula where everything from language arts to history to math is in the context of conservative Christianity, right down to “Young Earth Theory.” We are homeschoolers who also happen to be Christians. Bible is a subject that affords discussions of faith, discipleship, classical languages, and its applicable history. Otherwise, our curricula is secular.

Apparently, someone at church only realized the last two things about me.

I came out of church yesterday. My emotions were a little high already because I was feeling my own emotions and those of others. Mostly, though, I was riding high on the fabulous discussion our small group had had about the inclusivity of John’s ministry in Mark 1. The Spirit had opened my mind to a fresh new way of seeing those verses, and it was exciting to me. Anyway, I digress.

I came out of church where I saw an older lady talking to a still older lady. Lady #1 saw me, summoned me over, and began to tell her friend that I homeschooled my daughters. Prepared for the usual questions about how it’s going and what my girls are up to, along with the compliments about them, I smiled and said, “I’m still homeschooling my younger. She’s in seventh grade.” (Lady #2 was content to listen throughout this whole thing.) Lady #1 commented that they’re lucky they’re not in public school. I quipped, “Public school would probably be easier for them.”

“I don’t know. They’re having to learn that Critical Race Theory. It’s like they’re forcing it on them.”

Two thoughts here: (1) CRT passed our very conservative-leaning Board of Education? Woohoo! and (2) Wow. Let me know you’re racist without saying you’re racist.

I replied, “We cover that in our homeschool, too.”

Lady, looking shocked and aghast. “Oh my! They’re even forcing homeschoolers to teach Critical Race Theory!”

Thought: Haha! Our state has no say over what we teach.

Me: “No. I choose to.” (Lady looks even more shocked. I’m pretty sure by this point she’s doubting the integrity of my faith. Or my whiteness. Or both.)

“But they’re changing history! Removing statues and so forth!”

“There are millions of voices whose stories we haven’t known. Now their stories our being included in our American history so we learn more.” Yes, I was smiling the whole time.

“They’re teaching kids that Blacks are better than Whites.” “Equal to” doesn’t mean “better than,” but if you’re feeling persecuted by kids learning other aspects of history, guess whose problem that is?

Then this lady had to inform me that her grandson is “queer.” This woman uses her beliefs to tell her grandson often how sinful he is. I reminded her that her grandson is, first and foremost, her grandson. She assured me that she never says anything ugly in front of him. (The subtext is definitely cringe-worthy.) “They’re teaching kids about homosexuals and stuff like that. Why do children need to know about that stuff?”

“Many kids come out in middle and high school.”

(Ready for her response?) “It’s because they’re teaching them about it. If the schools didn’t teach it, these kids wouldn’t be queer.” My daughters laughed for five straight minutes when I shared that with them. They see dramas with gay couples, are exposed to gay relatives, we talk about media portrayals of healthy and unhealthy relationships (both gay and straight), and my tween thinks Jonathan Van Ness is the epitome of gay best friend material. Yet, neither of my girls identifies as gay. And if exposure to different sexual orientations and gender identities made people LGBT, wouldn’t there be more in that community than there are?

Of course, the lady had to trip along onto what the Bible says. My time was running short. I mean, seriously, I could’ve kept going, but my parents were bringing our tween home so we could finish decorating and I had to hustle to beat them to the house. Yes, I know my Bible. I know the gay-bashing passages. I said, “In New Testament times, there was Venus worship. She’s a fertility goddess. In the Old Testament, Ba’al and Asherah were fertility deities. Worship to the fertility deities involved all sorts of sex. The Bible doesn’t say anything about homosexual love or relationships.” I continued, “Jesus never said anything about homosexuality or homosexuals. He did say something really important, though, that I tell my girls often: Love everyone, and don’t judge anyone.”

With that mic drop, I bid her good-bye and went to my car. Yes, I will address bigotry with a smile on my face and Jesus in my heart.

That was a lot of toxicity. I don’t doubt this woman’s sincerity, but I do think she’s stuck in her thinking. She won’t get unstuck and nothing I say will unstick her. She’s still a woman of faith, but how she practices her faith can be harmful to others. She probably is having some serious doubts about my faith. She’s the type who would pray for me out of those doubts. So, hey… Knowing someone is praying for me isn’t the worst way to begin a week. Right?

Senior Trip, pt. 1

As I type this, I’m sitting in a hotel room in Ft. Walton Beach, Florida, soon to slather on sunscreen and enjoy the incredibly gorgeous weather the Panhandle has offered up this weekend. The past week has been filled with so many fun times! It was definitely a “core memory” making experience as our family commemorated the end of our older daughter’s high school years with her senior trip. She chose to go to Universal Studios Florida and experience the world of Harry Potter. And Marvel. And X-Men. And we can’t forget Minions!

I know Disney, and I’ve been to Walt Disney World enough times that I can easily plan a Disney vacation. I knew nothing about Universal, and I quickly became overwhelmed trying to put together the best package with the best range of options. I used their website and am active in the Orlando Informer Universal Studios group on Facebook–a fantastic source of information–but there was so much information, some of it conflicting, that I gave up and sought the services of a travel advisor. Wanting to work with someone local to us, I found Patricia Thornton with My Disney Vacation Travel. (Yeah, I know it’s Disney, but she, like most Disney travel advisors, is well-versed in everything Universal, too.) Having Patricia doing the behind-the-scenes work took so much off my plate, and she was amazing at customizing our dream vacation for us!

For the girls and me, traveling is about the journey as much as it’s the destination. Peter has a different way of seeing things, but he came around quickly enough. We left early Monday morning and stopped for breakfast in Florence, South Carolina before trucking on down I-95, finally making Orlando around 7:00 that evening. We were delighted to find that Florida’s welcome centers once more have the yummy orange and grapefruit juices available for sampling. When the girls and I came down here with my mom in 2019, the powers-that-be had taken them out to save money.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

In Orlando, we wanted to stay in a mid-range resort–we couldn’t afford the premier resorts, but we also didn’t want to stay too cheap. From the first time I saw it online, I knew Cabana Bay Beach Resort at Universal would be the best fit for our family. This retro 50s styled resort is purely fun. Harkening back to Florida’s beach resorts in the 50s, Cabana Bay has classic cars parked out front, bright colors, two swimming pools (one with a slide, one with a lazy river), a sandy “beachy” area, a few food options, and a bowling alley. The rooms are spacious, great for four people without tripping over each other. Our room had this great view of Volcano Bay Water Park. They didn’t miss a detail in designing this resort. Right down to the in-room hygiene amenities–Zest soap and V05 shampoo and conditioner–everything is 50s retro.

• 

• 

• 

• 

The staff–team members as they’re called at Universal–are all fabulous. The top words I’d use to describe them are hospitable, friendly, helpful, courteous, and prompt. The resort has a system where you can text anything you need to the front desk, and they’ll take care of it. We used this to get more towels and washcloths around the middle of our stay. (Keep in mind, with Covid regulations still in place, housekeeping services aren’t available, but you can have your linens replaced and your trash taken away.) It seems like I’d barely put my phone down before there was a knock at the door.

We only got to enjoy the pool once. With the parks closing earlier, we had time before dinner to take advantage of this amenity. Okay, I’ve got to be honest here… My three enjoyed this amenity. The weather we have had on this trip has been absolutely amazing for enjoying time outside–low- to mid-80s with pleasant breezes and ample sun. Once that sun starts getting low in the sky, however, it gets chilly, and it was cooler than I like the evening we went to the pool. That was our first evening after doing the park. Our second day, we rode the water rides, and our third, we had dinner with a friend of mine from college and had to get back and start packing.

I would give Cabana Bay 4.5/5 stars. Truthfully, I could easily skip the parks and spend four or five days relaxing at the resort. However, I would want a room with a microwave. There are food options, Starbucks, a bowling alley, and the aforementioned pools. We did spend more time here than we ever have at a Walt Disney World resort, and that was perfectly fine. What knocked it down from a solid 5 stars is the disturbances to my sleep. Our second morning, I heard backup beeps, like from a dump truck or piece of heavy machinery. Our third morning, I heard a leaf blower. Given that my alarm was set for 7:00 all week, that means these noises were coming at us early. They play the music for Volcano Bay before 8 a.m. each day, though that park doesn’t open until 9 or 10. We could hear a neighbor’s music one night, but they cut it off by 10. Beyond those things, the resort is pretty quiet. There was no interstate noise, nor did we hear any hallway noise at all. We’d definitely stay here again.

In my next post, I’ll share with you day one of our trip to Universal, including some things I learned along the way.

Let Kindness be Your Default

I had this teachable moment with my younger daughter earlier this week that I want to share with you.

There’s a lady I know. We were friends for a season but then life got in the way. A couple of months ago, someone (not me) did something nice for this lady– anonymously– and the first person she thought of was me. I told her that I wasn’t the doer of this random act of kindness. Even though we were no longer friends as we had been, the lesson I inadvertently walked in on is the reminder that I need to live my life in such a way that even my non-friends think I’d show them kindness.

My tween and I were discussing this, and I told her that gem. Then I admitted, “It sounds two-faced, but it’s not. I treat her the same to her face and behind her back.” Then I added, “Be consistent, and let kindness be your default.” My girl, ever curious about relationships, asked, “But, Mom, was she really your friend?” I said, “She wasn’t one of my quarters, but she was a friend for a time.” (Quarters are my most valuable friends.)

This has led to other discussions about our motivations for doing things (because we’re just genuinely nice people) and how the reputation she builds will carry over to her friends. When she hung out with a girl who wasn’t always very nice, I dealt with other moms chatting me up on Facebook to find out what had been going on. My daughter has thankfully reversed that stigma, and now people think her new friend is sweet because they see her with my daughter (the girl is sweet, anyway). My daughter’s kindness default will carry her through the tumultuous middle school years.

How Do We Love Our Neighbor?

“Love your neighbor as yourself.”

If you’ve been in church or gone to church or lived in a country where churches are legal, you’ve heard this verse. Jesus calls it the second greatest commandment in Mark 12. We have spent a lot of time around our house talking about what loving our neighbor looks like. We’ve parsed out who our neighbors are. And most recently, we have discussed loving people who aren’t so great to be around.

Once upon a time, I gave serious consideration to being a lawyer. My aunt thought I should go into corporate law for the dough. Honestly, I didn’t give it enough thought to determine what type of lawyer I’d be. One of my ex-boyfriends told me I should’ve gone the law route because I remembered all the details (to his detriment, more often than not). The point is, I can argue, and I can find loopholes. Most people like to find loopholes to manipulate them, and sometimes, I’m most people. This is different, though, and a lot more serious. When it comes to being legalistic in my faith walk, I look for loopholes to close them.

;Who is my neighbor? The expert in the law who posed this question to Jesus was looking for a narrow definition of “neighbor” so he wouldn’t have to love those on the outside. I could do the same thing. If I think about “neighbor” as those people who are like me who live near me, then there will be those I can love and those I don’t have to love. On our street of about eighteen houses, there would be five houses with people who aren’t like me. Should I exclude those? Of course not! See, there’s the loophole, and I closed it as Jesus would by defining neighbor as those worthy of compassion, which includes everyone.

Our Bible study group’s discussion of this verse intersected perfectly with a struggle my tween was going through. She used to have a best friend who had been lying to her on the regular and topped it off with calling me something not very nice (behind my back, but whatever). My daughter and I have had a lot of discussions about this. We talk about her feelings over losing this friendship and her anger at what she’d done. At the same time, she is struggling with what to do. On one hand, this girl is in a dangerous home situation and she relied on my daughter a lot for support throughout her last traumatic home experience. On the other hand, she has a dark aura and her energies drain my daughter’s psychological energies. My daughter struggled with how to set the hard boundary while still being available when the next trauma occurs.

Then came the God-word through a guy in our class: “You can love your neighbor without being with them 24/7.” Loving our neighbors and having compassion for them doesn’t mean harming ourselves for them. Oftentimes, loving our neighbors includes setting boundaries with them. The Good Samaritan, for example, tended to the wounded man as best he could before recognizing the limits on his time, skills, and resources. So, instead of carrying the wounded man back to his house to tend to him there or leaving him on the side of the road, the Samaritan delivered the man to a nearby innkeeper with instructions to care for him and a promise to pick up the tab for the expenses. With this word from our friend came the solution for my daughter. She responded to her neighbor with, “I can’t be around you right now because your energies are so dark, but when problems come up, I’ll be here for you.” With this promise, my daughter set a boundary on what she can tolerate but still said, “I’m your neighbor and have compassion for you.”

We, too, can love our neighbors while also setting boundaries on ourselves. Were my daughter to see her former friend scraped up on the sidewalk, she’d offer her help without thinking twice about it. We can find this balance between love and boundaries and feel comfortable with caring for people with abandon as a result.

A Vital Homeschooling Lesson

Twenty-twenty taught me one vital thing: Public school teachers don’t make nearly enough money.

I’ll grant that I’ve always felt that way. Given their annual salary against the sheer volume of hours they work, they make way less than they should. Though I’ve chosen to homeschool, it was to give my daughters a stronger, more tailored education, not in protest against teachers. I wear Red for Ed on 1 May every year and actively support teachers in their quests for better pay and more resources for their students.

Last summer, a homeschooling neighbor told me about some life changes going on in her world. One of these changes was going to be her starting school so she could eventually work from home, so she claimed. Since our daughters are good friends, I offered to bring her daughter into our homeschool, which I could do under our state’s guidelines. This was by-and-large a good experience. We got to give this girl some much-needed and much-deserved love. I taught her some matters of the faith and opened her eyes to racial inequalities in our society. I learned some things, too.

(1) I learned that not every parent cares as much about their children’s education as I do or as I think they should. As one of my teacher friends said sardonically, “That’s the teacher’s job [to make sure all the student’s work gets done].”

(2) I learned that students need resources that not every parent is willing or able to provide.

(3) I learned that tendencies toward dishonesty are taught more than they are caught. This made it hard to know where the gaps in her education might be. (It was dishonesty that got me into this situation to begin wit–a little lie by omission. Truly a case of “like mother, like daughter.”)

(4) I learned that this situation was an empath’s nightmare. Not only was I feeling this little girl’s emotional angst, but I was also feeling the emotions she was carrying from other people in her life. And there were a lot! I spent the whole semester in a state of emotional exhaustion.

(5) I learned that teaching someone who is seriously delayed in her education and who isn’t getting parental support at home takes time away from the needs of other students, namely, my daughters. As we enjoyed Christmas break, I started thinking about everything I could teach my daughter, and there was so much! As we begin this next semester, we’re finding that we’re getting six subjects done in a matter of a few hours with plenty of time to work, relax, exercise, and play.

(6) I learned that some people will take advantage of my kindness and compassion. As the months wore on, I felt more like an unpaid babysitter than a teacher. That feeling reminded me of what a business colleague once said, referring to public school as “state-sanctioned child care.” This little girl was at our house 10-11 hours a day. My family missed me.

(7) I learned that, despite the fact I have trust issues, I’m still too nice. Towards the end of the semester, I asked the girl’s mom what changed from her wanting to homeschool her herself. The reply stunned me: “Oh, I never wanted to homeschool her in the first place. It was my ex-boyfriend’s idea.” The fuck??? Even with Covid and the adjustments many parents were having to make to accommodate our county’s hybrid school schedule, she could have always opted for public school. See #6. The mom didn’t do that because she’d still need to make accommodations for her daughter three days a week. My kindness enabled her to avoid spending time with her daughter as much as possible–and extra money.

(8) I learned that some ministries are only for a season, and that’s okay. As I grappled with referring this little girl to public school, one of my hesitations was no longer being able to give her the love and support she lacks at home. My daughters told me, “Mom, you’re more of a mom to her than her own mom is.” I didn’t set out to be. She was just here so much that it was easy to care for her. But I’m glad I was able to be there for her and give her those things for the time I could.

Now I’m back to my first ministry field: My family. When I was in Divinity school, I gave serious consideration to enlisting as a military chaplain. That was when it was just Hubby and me. Then we got pregnant, and everything I did and every choice I made centered around the little baby growing inside of me. I could’ve been okay with being military and dragging my husband along or leaving him if necessary to serve overseas. I wasn’t going to do that to a child, though. That little girl inside me governed my decisions on work I did and class loads I took. When I got my first job after school, I hated giving up our time at home but loved that I’d be able to provide more for her. My family is still my first consideration with every ministry I do. God has called me to be in relationship with God, and God has called me to love on others. Outside of that relationship I have with the Creator, my next most important relationships are with my husband and my daughters, in that order. In other words, my family is second only to God, and the ministry field is below both of those.

I regret the time my family didn’t get me. I regret being so tired that I couldn’t stay up talking to my husband when I had to get up at 7 a.m. while he slept later. I regret depriving my tween of her education for all those months. (Thankfully, she’s smart as a whip and highly self-motivated.) I regret neglecting my health for all those months because there simply wasn’t time in the day between when my charge left and I had to start dinner.

But I’m happy I’m back. My family is, too. My husband told me over break, “This may sound selfish, but I’m glad we have you to ourselves again.” I’m glad to be back and to be able to attend to the four people in this house who are more important than anything else. And to be able to dispense hugs upon request.

What is Your Worship Saying About Your Faith?

Our family has been worshiping virtually for nine months now. it’s not ideal or preferred, but it’s what we have. We tune in to our church’s worship service or we avail ourselves of the opportunity to “visit” other churches, particularly those outside of our area. We have taken Communion and lit a Christ candle to remind ourselves of our connection with believers in our own church family and those around the world. Our church has moved slowly toward in-person worship, currently offering online worship as well as masked, socially distanced, by-reservation-only in-person worship at max 50% capacity.

By contrast, my parents’ church has dove back into in-person worship with limited, assigned, socially-distanced seating and recommending masks but not requiring or enforcing it. My parents mask, though. It was into this setting that my teenage daughter experienced her first in-person worship since March.

She’d been to this church many times, participating in Vacation Bible School as a younger girl and getting to know people in the church. While their theology is different from ours, the sincerity of this congregation and their faith make it easy to enjoy worshipping there among them. Not this particular Sunday, though.

My daughter walked in with her grandparents, all of them wearing masks, to find the majority of the people there weren’t wearing masks at all. Additionally, they were singing, which increases the amount of aerosols in the air. My daughter felt contaminated. My dad felt pissed off. (We can site biblical reasons for masking.) My daughter put it like this: “A couple repeatedly got onstage and sang without a mask, a lot of people didn’t wear masks, and Ben [the pastor] went running all around the stage without a mask shouting.” She feels like, if she can give a speech in her public speaking class with a mask on–and be heard in the back of the room–then preachers should be able to reach the balcony with one on. She continued, “I feel dirtier than if I’d just gone and been a prostitute in a church basement or so. And Grandpa wasn’t so happy. Also if I were a first timer to church and trying their church or new to faith I’d be turned off of Christianity altogether.”

That last clause is the most telling. She’d be turned off of that church and Christianity if she were just a random visitor. She came out of church feeling contaminated and filthy because others wanted to breathe out their possibly Covid-infected air. I’m sure, based on what I know of this church, that a lot of the people there feel confident in their faith that God will protect them from the Coronavirus. That’s a pretty selfish attitude, though. What if God protects them from the virus, but they infect someone with a weaker immune system who ends up severely ill or dead? Does their faith cover that? Going to church during a pandemic is for our own selfish motives–legalism, social time, an excuse to get out of the house. Taking every necessary precaution not to spread the disease–staying home unless necessary (yes, even from church), masking when you’re out around others, social distancing, and washing/sanitizing your hands–has love as its motive. These are behaviors that will help others from getting sick. This is worship in action.

Our choice not to participate in in-person worship at this time is also why we don’t do a lot of things we usually enjoy. We are not afraid of our own safety; in fact, early anecdotal evidence suggests that my daughters and I have a blood type that would keep us from having Covid symptoms, or, at worst, very mild ones. That doesn’t mean we can’t contract it, though, and that doesn’t mean we can’t spread it. In our circles are children with vulnerable younger siblings and vulnerable older adults. We don’t want to risk having something we could then spread to those folks. It’s not fear; it’s love guiding our choices.

As you worship and as you as a clergy member make decisions about when to resume in-person worship, I want you to think about your witness in doing so. Are you making a statement about your self-centered faith, or are you making declarations about how much other people are worth? It’s not faith versus fear. No… It’s God-centered faith versus self-centered faith. My God-centered faith tells me to look after other people first, and that’s what we will continue to do.

One final note… An article I read recently cited places of worship as being the cause of 7.8% of covid cases. Would you eat m&m’s if eight of them were poisoned? Odds of contracting Covid in church is OVER EIGHT TIMES as likely as being in a car crash. But we still wear our seatbelts and maintain our vehicles in efforts to keep our safety as paramount. We should be no less diligent in how we approach worship.

Confessions of “That Mom”

I didn’t try to become one of those. You know what I’m talking about: Cute matching outfits for all the kids, a home straight off the cover of Southern Living, and a dinner table that could be the centerfold of that same issue. Truth is, that’s not me. My daughters’ outfits match by chance or by their own design, and 98% of the time, their socks won’t match. I don’t mean that the first daughter’s socks won’t match those the second daughter is wearing; I mean, neither child is wearing matching socks. My interior decor style can best be described as “coastal casual in temporary disorder.” My dinette table (no formal dining room here) is thirty-plus years old that I bought second-hand when I moved into my first apartment and is currently home to my sewing machine and various Christmas presents in various states of completion.

Yet, in many ways, I have become “That mom.” You may have caught the allusion to “Christmas presents in various states of completion” above. They started with a tutorial on insulated lunch sacks and the idea of making something nice for my husband. That morphed into a redesign that transformed a simple lunch sack into a reusable shopping back. Then my autumnal desire to fidget with a pair of knitting needles produced a market bag, another Christmas gift.

• 

• 

A market bag I made for one gift and our family’s fall and Halloween masks. (The knitting needles belonged to my husband’s grandma.)

I have a rack with two shelves nearly full of canned goods that I processed myself, all with stuff from our garden. Well, except for the turkey bone broth, but I used carcasses from turkeys past for that. This doesn’t include all that’s in our pantry. Even as I type this, two loaves of homemade bread are baking, one of which will be part of dinner. Earlier today, I made homemade vegetable stock that I’ll use in soups throughout the fall and winter and roasted pumpkins, one of which will be part of dinner this week.

It’s not just in the domestic arts that I have it going on. Since Covid hit, I have been, in turns, guidance counselor, grief counselor, career counselor, crisis counselor, minister, and teacher–all while tending to my own work as both business owner and writer, keeping up with my personal fitness, being wife, and managing my anxiety. Some of those are going better than others (she writes as her facial tic acts up for no discernible reason). It’s probably a good thing I’ve got degrees in counseling and crisis care, but no one envisaged my being all this at once, least of all, me!

For all this, I look at the silver roots and the uninspired daily outfit choices (fitted t-shirt and shorts), the routine bowls of cereal in the mornings, and my daughters’ disastrously messy rooms and think, “Maybe I’m not so much ‘that mom.'” I see the Mom blogs with their recipes accompanied by cute family stories, directions for these over-the-top amazing, creative, Pinterest-worthy cakes just because (“I made this life-size 3-D cake of Oscar the Grouch because Timmy went pee-pee in the potty!”), and those old feelings of inferiority return–once the “Someone has way too much time on her hands” thought passes.

Yet, I also realize that those moms who seem to be killing it in ways I’m not are doing what they can with what they have, just as I am. I also know that other moms may look at all I’m doing and think, “Wow! I wish I were like her.” Yet, those moms, too, are doing what they can with what they have. I’d be the first to point that out to them, to affirm that they are enough. That’s why I don’t have the Pinterest boards filled with all my own creations; there are enough Pinterest divas there to make the rest of us feel like slackers.

So here I am with my home-canned goods, homemade Christmas gifts, two home-based careers as an entrepreneur and a writer, and thoroughly living into every way I’ve learned to minister, and sometimes, I don’t feel like enough. It’s my own pride talking because God says, “Sara, you’re doing a great job. Rest here with me a bit.” And my tween told me tonight, “Mom, I’m lucky to have you for my mom.” My best friend has said, “You’re a great mom,” and our church friends tell me, “I’m praying for you in this ministry right now.” I just have to amplify those voices so they will drown out the whisper of Satan telling me, “You’re not good enough because (fill in the blank with your reason of choice).”

You’re enough, Momma and Dad. God has equipped you with exactly what you need to get through this, and you will. You’re killing it in your own way and however you can make it work. Hopefully you’re realizing that each and every day in ways both big and small.

The Favorite Verse

His proponents claim he’s the one who’ll “save Christianity” for Americans, yet Donald Trump epitomizes the very opposite of what Jesus Christ lived and taught. He golfs on Sundays, speaks hatefully against people of color, praises white supremacists, mocks the disabled, and encourages violence against innocent people. When challenged in an interview to state his favorite Bible verse, after moments of befuddled hesitation, Trump fumbled out, “That’s personal.” (You’d think he’d at least be able to dig out John 3:16, which is translated into dozens of languages in the Gideon Bible that’s in every hotel room.)

A believer’s favorite Bible verse or passage is personal, but it’s never private. Every believer I know, when asked, can tell you their favorite Bible verse and can tell you the story behind it: Why it is their favorite, when it become their favorite, and how it has impacted their Christian walk. No one will say, “That’s too personal to share” because it’s part of our faith story and, as such, is a part of our witness.

If I had to pick a favorite, it would be Micah 6:8: “What does the Lord require of you but that you act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?” I was sitting in an undergraduate religion class on Christian leadership when I first met this verse. Though I had grown up in the church, we didn’t do a lot with the minor prophets apart from Daniel, and I had certainly never heard this verse before. Dr. Bruce Powers was the professor, and the way he taught made me forget to take notes. He was so passionate about this topic and wanted to impart to us the nuances of true, Godly, leadership.

This verse has spoken to me all throughout my life in those intervening years. It has helped me remember what is truly important in this journey and in my ministry. It has reminded me that my worship attendance isn’t the most important thing, nor is service to the institution that is the church. It’s the walk. We are to be all walk, less talk, which has made me skeptical of those who can talk a good God game. I don’t see this list as being in order from most important to least important. If anything, walking humbly with God should be the top priority since that walk in humility will govern how we act with justice and embrace mercy (or compassion).

The verses preceding this one ask if extravagant sacrifices or big worship rituals are what God wants. No. It’s just these three simple things. First, we walk humbly in relationship with God. This isn’t a prideful walk, not a “Look at me! I’m hanging with God!” walk. It’s humble. It’s a, “Wow! I get to walk with God!” walk. And it’s a walk with God, a walk in relationship and community.

Second, we love mercy, or compassion. In Christian terms, this is unconditional love. In Rogerian psychology terms, this is unconditional positive regard. For our lives, this is seeing and loving people the way God does. Compassion wants people to have the best, fullest life they can. It doesn’t mean excusing wrong or hurtful behavior, but it seeks wholeness and reconciliation however it can.

Then finally, we act justly. When Micah recorded this prophecy, the ancient Israelites had fallen far short of God’s wish for them in how they were to treat each other. Those who were wealthy were taking advantage of those who were poor. Judges were accepting bribes to rule against poorer people. Widows and orphans–those who society was supposed to look after–walked the streets, begging and starving.

What is most remarkable about this, however, is that we learned this is a class on leadership. This wasn’t a course in being a boss or being some sort of kick-ass megachurch pastor with four campuses, a TV show, a podcast, a radio show, and a book deal. This was about being the Jesus type of leader, one of compassion, justice, and humility. Whether I’m leading a church, a pastoral services department in a hospital, or co-leading my family, there is still ample room for justice, mercy, and a humble walk.

Over against Democratic nominee Joe Biden’s continuous use of scripture on the campaign trail as the Word of the Lord infuses his life, Trump’s failure even to scrounge a verse out of his feeble brain presents a glaring contradiction to his claims of “saving Christianity.” When a different reporter pushed Trump to name his favorite verse earlier this year, he flippantly said, “An eye for an eye,” which is a part of both Hammurabi’s Code and the Torah and seems to fit with Trump’s vengeful approach to his “enemies.” But that’s not the Jesus way, and that’s not the life that Christians are supposed to espouse. Jesus pushes this revenge-minded law to the curb when he states in the Sermon on the Mount, “If someone strikes you on the cheek, turn to him the other also. If someone sues you for your tunic, also give him your cloak.” (Matthew 5: 39-40) Far from getting revenge, Jesus says, sacrifice more. Don’t be like that. Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God. That’s how we are to live our lives.

What’s your favorite verse or passage, and why? Feel free to comment below.

Please note that all comments are subject to approval, and comments praising Trump will be deleted without approval. You can praise the president on your own blog.

Post-Trauma Anxiety in an Election Year

It’s here and it’s back. Election year, and things are already ugly, even when Covid and streaming channels prevent us from having to see too many campaign ads. Early in the campaigning season, it happened: I felt the first stirrings of anxiety burning in my spirit. It doesn’t help that we’re in the middle of a pandemic, but these feelings weren’t about my health or concerns for my safety. I could pinpoint this frazzled agony to the animosity suddenly blazing across social media.

It didn’t matter who was saying it or what they were saying. The posts blasting Trump had the same effect on me as the ones praising him. Either way, I would be exposed to a view with which I don’t agree as well as a heap of negativity. It’s the plethora of negativity that I have found to be the most draining.

Perhaps the blasts of negative politics from both sides triggers my anxiety because I remembered how I felt four years ago. I had just developed an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. Things were nasty-ugly then, too. One candidate in 2016 was a writhing maggot on a steaming, putrid pile of camel dung, and the other was the camel dung. Only my nearests and dearests know which was which in my mind. Both sides blasted insults at each other. My social media feed echoed the sentiments as friends and relatives posted about their candidates. I don’t mind saying that I opted for a third-party candidate because he was the best choice, the one most closely aligned with my values.

Then things got worse. The election came and went, and we all know what happened. Then the attacks became personal. I dealt with insults from people for my voting choices. A particularly loathsome person deemed everyone who voted a particular way to be “idiots.” Quite judgmental, wouldn’t you say? I may not agree with that particular choice, but with friends and family members who marked their ballots with that candidate, it’s not for me to be ugly about their decision.

Now we are back to another election cycle, and things are ugly again. The same negativity thrives on social media, leading me to employ such lovely features as “snooze for 30 days” and “unfollow.” That same loathsome person thought I would welcome an out-of-the-blue email encouraging me to vote the way he wanted me to vote, or, rather, if the subject line was any indication, not to vote third-party. <deleted, unread>

It is easy to feel anxious and overwhelmed when you’re bombarded with negativity. Life currently is anxiety-ridden enough without the ugliness coming at us from every side. So what to do when it gets to be too much? Here are some helpful hints, and some will take a little discipline.

• Turn off the news. Stop watching it. My parents are avid news watchers – noon, 5:30, and 6. They now only tune in for the featured pets of the day at the end of the noon news. They’re also happier.
• If possible, stick with commercial-free viewing. Paid streaming channels don’t have paid corporate sponsors, so no commercials and no campaign ads. It’s a great time to see what’s available on Netflix, Hulu, Prime, and Disney+.
• Step away from social media. This is very difficult if you’re used to using it to keep up with friends and family. A friend of mine says, “I’ve started texting and calling people.” My friends are also working moms and maybe dealing with online public school or homeschooling. They don’t have time to personally update every one of their friends on what’s going on in their lives.
• If you’re on social media, try to use it only for business and your informational groups then get off. I personally miss having the Facebook Groups app on my phone; it was a god-send in 2016. In those days, I used Pages, Messenger, and Groups, which enabled me to avoid my newsfeed altogether.
• Focus on the positive. Hold on to only those things that serve you and bring joy to your life. If that means unfollowing someone, then do that. If that means going old-school and communicating via snail mail, do that, too. Don’t waste precious psychic energy wading through the ugliness that wounds and scars your soul.
• Avoid undesirable people. This follows from the previous point. Family members. Friends. Co-workers. It’s far preferable to be away from them for a few months than to lose relationship with them.
• When every avoidance trick fails, dig into your tool box. Whether it’s meditation, yoga, a long road trip, or whatever you use, put your tools to work to help you find your calm.

There are fewer than eighty days until the election and even fewer before early voting starts. We will get through this, and may God’s will for America be done.