Pretty much all I can do at work is think or write about the things I would do at home if I had the energy, and while I'm at work, I convince myself that I'll have the energy when I get home......and I never do. Bleh. BUT! This weekend, I'm going to get a headstart on at least one of my projects, and sooner or later, I'm going to post pictures of a FINISHED PROJECT. Right now, my list of projects includes:
Crocheting an afghan
Re-covering my wingback armchair
Trying one new recipe a week
This week, I've already accomplished my recipe goal: Spaghetti Carbonara (the healthier version).
From start to finish it only took 30 minutes, and all I had to do was cook some thin spaghetti, shred a couple of cups of parmesan cheese and mix 2 eggs into it, then toss them together with some turkey bacon, onions, and garlic that I sauteed while the pasta was cooking. I think that it turned out well for a first try, because getting the creamy consistency from the eggs and parmesan is pretty much a learned art, from what I've read. I'll keep trying. As for this batch, at least it tasted really good! I added some kosher salt, fresh ground black pepper, and some cayenne pepper (because for some reason, I can't make a pasta dish without feeling like it needs a little extra "ummph"). I think I'm going to try some kind of chicken enchilada dish next week. Last week's dish was also a success: stuffed anaheim peppers and spanish rice.
In my opinion, anything stuffed with cream cheese has to be good, and this recipe didn't disappoint. The sauce was actually really easy to make (onions, garlic, oil, chile paste, broth, cornstarch...lots of chili powder...), and the rest of the dish took some time (blanching the peppers, cooking and shredding the seasoned chicken, stuffing the peppers with the cream cheese/chicken mixture, broiling the peppers), but each step is actually very simple. It's a great recipe for impressing people!
Also, my afghan project isn't quite as impressive (it still looks like a scarf), but one day, it will grow into an actual blanket! :)
That's all I've got for today; hopefully I'll have more progress to report soon.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
My Name
I’ve always known my name was Grace Kathryn for a reason. You don’t just show up on earth with a name that means “pure grace” for nothing. I’ve been asking God more and more how I can live that out in a way that makes a difference in the lives of others, and so, God has been answering. Unfortunately (and fortunately) the first part of any answer he gives me always knocks me flat on my face, humbled before Him. It’s not fun facing up to my own failures and shortcomings, but it’s necessary, and by far for my greater good.
So, he shattered my selfish mirror called “pride” to pieces to bring my focus to the truth:
His. Grace. Is. Everything.
I am not saved, I am not preferred, I am not “liked” by God because of anything, ANYTHING, that I do. He doesn’t think I’m a whiter shade of white because of anything I have or haven’t done. It’s never been about what I can keep together, what I can do, or what I haven’t done – because you know what? My BEST attempts at righteousness are worth NOTHING in the eyes of God. They’re like used tampons, they’re so disgusting. (Sorry to be graphic, but that’s literally what the Bible says – just look up the historical context of “filthy rags.”) I literally thought there were certain parts of my life where I wasn’t really THAT dirty, because you know…we all have those lists of things that “other” people do, that we don’t do, which somehow makes us easier to forgive. But sitting around in the Body of Christ (the church) comparing what I’ve done with what you’ve done and what I haven’t done with what you haven’t done is POINTLESS, because NONE of it matters. That’s right. NONE of it. Satan would like to keep us busy playing this little comparison game in our heads because it keeps us focused on how good we think we are, not how good God is. Do our actions point to how we’re growing in Christ? Of course, but they aren’t the basis upon which we receive grace. His grace bought me when I was still dead in my sin – and his grace hasn’t changed. It’s the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow because HE doesn’t change.
*sigh* I’ve said all that, and I still don’t think my words can even begin to grasp at what I’m starting to realize about his grace. Words are so feeble. The best image I can think of is something David Crowder has already said that is starting to sink into my soul: “If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.”
Having said (or tried to say) all of that, let me move on to the second thing God started to show me about grace. I was talking last week with one of my good friends who has known me since freshman year of college, and we were discussing the incredible work God is continuing to do in his life (and in mine) since then. He reminded me that in the Old Testament, an extremely symbolic book, the hyssop plant is used to represent God’s grace. The children of Israel brushed the blood over their doorposts with hyssop plants for the angel of death to pass over their homes: grace was the means by which his blood spared His children. The burning bush in the desert? It was a hyssop plant. God’s grace was literally ON FIRE so that God could get Moses’ attention and speak to him while he was running away from a murder scene where he WAS the murderer!
So where do you think my mind went next? Well, of course. I must hyssop plant—a burning bush! (Think of the passages about being the light of the world, being a fragrant aroma, bringing healing…) I want to be a conduit for that bright, fragrant, healing power of grace to reach people in this world.
My mother loves to sing the words of that wonderful childrens’ song, “I just wanna be a sheep, baa baa baa baa!” Well, I wanna be a hyssop plant! I want to be Grace.
So, he shattered my selfish mirror called “pride” to pieces to bring my focus to the truth:
His. Grace. Is. Everything.
I am not saved, I am not preferred, I am not “liked” by God because of anything, ANYTHING, that I do. He doesn’t think I’m a whiter shade of white because of anything I have or haven’t done. It’s never been about what I can keep together, what I can do, or what I haven’t done – because you know what? My BEST attempts at righteousness are worth NOTHING in the eyes of God. They’re like used tampons, they’re so disgusting. (Sorry to be graphic, but that’s literally what the Bible says – just look up the historical context of “filthy rags.”) I literally thought there were certain parts of my life where I wasn’t really THAT dirty, because you know…we all have those lists of things that “other” people do, that we don’t do, which somehow makes us easier to forgive. But sitting around in the Body of Christ (the church) comparing what I’ve done with what you’ve done and what I haven’t done with what you haven’t done is POINTLESS, because NONE of it matters. That’s right. NONE of it. Satan would like to keep us busy playing this little comparison game in our heads because it keeps us focused on how good we think we are, not how good God is. Do our actions point to how we’re growing in Christ? Of course, but they aren’t the basis upon which we receive grace. His grace bought me when I was still dead in my sin – and his grace hasn’t changed. It’s the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow because HE doesn’t change.
*sigh* I’ve said all that, and I still don’t think my words can even begin to grasp at what I’m starting to realize about his grace. Words are so feeble. The best image I can think of is something David Crowder has already said that is starting to sink into my soul: “If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking.”
Having said (or tried to say) all of that, let me move on to the second thing God started to show me about grace. I was talking last week with one of my good friends who has known me since freshman year of college, and we were discussing the incredible work God is continuing to do in his life (and in mine) since then. He reminded me that in the Old Testament, an extremely symbolic book, the hyssop plant is used to represent God’s grace. The children of Israel brushed the blood over their doorposts with hyssop plants for the angel of death to pass over their homes: grace was the means by which his blood spared His children. The burning bush in the desert? It was a hyssop plant. God’s grace was literally ON FIRE so that God could get Moses’ attention and speak to him while he was running away from a murder scene where he WAS the murderer!
So where do you think my mind went next? Well, of course. I must hyssop plant—a burning bush! (Think of the passages about being the light of the world, being a fragrant aroma, bringing healing…) I want to be a conduit for that bright, fragrant, healing power of grace to reach people in this world.
My mother loves to sing the words of that wonderful childrens’ song, “I just wanna be a sheep, baa baa baa baa!” Well, I wanna be a hyssop plant! I want to be Grace.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
It's been a while...
For some reason, good coffee makes me feel like writing, so since I made a fabulous cup of coffee with my french press this morning -- here I am. There's way too much going on in my personal life for me to be able to construct any kind of update in my head, much less write it down. So, I'll suffice it all to say that life is unpredictable, challenging, and downright painful sometimes, but God doesn't lie: His beauty does come from ashes and his joy comes despite the pain.
Working at FIS is a lot more stressful than I had expected it to be. I've started a new habit of praying over each days' calls as soon as I pull into the parking lot; otherwise I know I won't be able to handle it. People are hateful. Or maybe I care too much. Coworkers who've been there a while seem to think I'm just too sweet; maybe it's true. But I'd rather care too much than not care at all. I've already decided that I'll take what I can from the job, but it won't take anything from me.
Taxes are done...bills are paid for the month. Doesn't seem like there's a lot to take care of today except cleaning. Maybe that's why I'm still sitting here with my coffee. =P Oh - I did want to share my cooking success story. I made General Tso's chicken from scratch, double fried, spicy sauce and everything...and it tasted just as good (if not better) than the restaurant's. (And I know exactly what was in it.) I think my next experiment is going to be Hong Kong Pork. Which means I should probably go thaw that meat out.......
Working at FIS is a lot more stressful than I had expected it to be. I've started a new habit of praying over each days' calls as soon as I pull into the parking lot; otherwise I know I won't be able to handle it. People are hateful. Or maybe I care too much. Coworkers who've been there a while seem to think I'm just too sweet; maybe it's true. But I'd rather care too much than not care at all. I've already decided that I'll take what I can from the job, but it won't take anything from me.
Taxes are done...bills are paid for the month. Doesn't seem like there's a lot to take care of today except cleaning. Maybe that's why I'm still sitting here with my coffee. =P Oh - I did want to share my cooking success story. I made General Tso's chicken from scratch, double fried, spicy sauce and everything...and it tasted just as good (if not better) than the restaurant's. (And I know exactly what was in it.) I think my next experiment is going to be Hong Kong Pork. Which means I should probably go thaw that meat out.......
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