God, Food, and Everything in Between
Sunset Tree, originally uploaded by savouringgrace.
This is what happens when a frugal mom refuses to throw away the excess paint her children left in the palette. It was pretty therapeutic just going back and forth with the brush. The layers of paint were so thick that when I picked it up, I accidentally scratched some off, so that led to me using my fingernail to “carve” the tree.
Residual Art, originally uploaded by savouringgrace.I always love how the napkin looks after my children finish painting (it’s where they dry the brushes after they rinse them to change colors). I kind of feel like that napkin — absorbing them in so many ways. Beautiful chaos.
Do you ever feel like you’re just a bunch of holes? Seeing out your eyes, inhaling air through your nose, ingesting sustenance in your mouth, absorbing sounds with your ears, eliminating waste, and so on. Things go in and out of our holes. Without them, we wouldn’t exist, but with them, I sometimes feel like I don’t anyway. Like I’m trapped in my body, peering out peepholes that don’t let me fully live. It’s a strange awareness that first hit me erratically, but that I now induce at times, though I only let myself experience it fleetingly or else I’d freak out. Engaging in sensory activities helps it subside, as does talking (especially in conversation with someone else who is physically present). The more I feel and interact, the more real life seems.
What if spirituality is like that? Could our inner sense of emptiness or yearning exist to show us our need for God? Imagine the soul as a hole, through which we receive from and give to Him who made us and knows us even better than we know ourselves. The one who keeps his soul closed cannot ever satisfy the longings that transcend his physical existence. The one who opens her soul allows it to be filled with faith and released of fear. And that is only the first course in a spiritual feast that continues on for a lifetime of emptying and being nourished. What comes out of our souls is pain, selfishness, remorse, gratitude, and worship and what comes into them is grace, forgiveness, healing, peace, love, truth, strength and the intimate presence of our Heavenly Father who is also our creator, savior and friend.
Maybe this body feels like a bunch of holes because we are meant for another existence – one that continues on beyond this material world. Perhaps the sensation of being more than our bodies (and our brains), of desiring meaning and purpose and permanence occurs because there is more, a reality that we can start living now if we seek to fill our spiritual hole as earnestly and often as we do our bodily orifices. When we pay attention to our soul – first by seeking God, and later by continually practicing his presence (through the spiritual disciplines which empty and fill us) - we become whole and holy, instead of just feeling holey.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12
Almost everything we plant in earthboxes seems to sprout up in giant quantities that dwarf our little sun drenched patio that’s half kids’ play area and half growing things — all sorts of peppers, Japanese eggplant, chives…but as for the tomatoes, I’m convinced it is the gardener’s heart of love to please his wife that makes them grow: first the sweet 100s, then the heirlooms, and now the romas. Tender tomatoes, fresh herbs, and roses that bloom even in December are the perfect minimalist answer to my garden yearnings. Not to mention a handsome gardener who repeatedly says “As you wish…” without using any words.
A few of my favorite ways to eat fresh tomatoes (besides straight up with salt):
Pa Amb Tomaquet (excellent even with subpar tomatoes)
Artichoke Bruschetta
Simple Tomato Sandwich
Simple Tomato & Avocado Salad
Insalata Caprese (sometimes we add anchovies)
La Madeleine’s Tomato-Basil Soup
Tomato Pasta (my recipe)
No Cook Puttanesca Sauce with Linguine
Tomato Eggplant Casserole
Tomato Toast
Tomato Pasta
Caprese
I said I was going to do it, and I finally did. I would have chosen this blog name long ago, but savoringgrace.com was taken and I had never considered the alternate spelling until now. It’s apt for a variety of reasons:
I found this choice quote (and little else) when I googled the phrase:
This Light, this Sound, this Savouring Grace, This Tasteful Sweet, this Strict Embrace, No Place containes, no Eye can see, My God is; and there’s none but He.
It’s excerpted from two of George MacDonald’s books (he was C.S. Lewis’ literary mentor). He was actually quoting a section of a long poem called Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells by Thomas Heywood, an actor/poet/dramatist from the Middle Ages whom I could find little about, so I’m not certain if the rest of his theology was sound, but this line is breathtaking. Supposedly Charles Lamb described him as a kind of “prose Shakespeare.”
To see how the name fits the blog, check out my updated About page.
My new email address — myrrhc at savouringgrace dot com — is up and running.
We had the privilege of picnicking on the beach with some friends who have totally got a handle on the staycation concept. They usually travel every summer, but with times being tough they decided to create a tropical destination right at home. All they did was buy a bunch of sand and plunk it in in their backyard, which is already surrounded by water (a swimming pool and a creek).
Al fresco dining with sand between our toes, and all we had to do was drive seven minutes. We could actually enjoy this glorious noshing platter because the children busied themselves with buckets and shovels, popping in and out for crackers, leaving us to savor the salami, brie, and artichokes (three of my favorites).
I’ve known these friends a long time but this is the first time we’ve shared a meal as families, so I had forgotten about our mutual appreciation for fine food. This feast for the fingers (click photo for details) was the perfect preamble to a light supper of sun-dried tomato pasta and a green salad.
Our view from “the beach” as the sun began to set (yes, those are wine grapes, and to the left there’s a chicken coop — on our next visit we hope to sample the wine and eggs).
This was our first time taking a trip with friends, so it was really nice not to have to go anywhere 
 | Myrrh C. on Sunset Tree |
 | DebbieLynne on Sunset Tree |
 | Aaron on Sunset Tree |
 | husband on Quit Twitter…Again |
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