Tea for Twenty

It's a Valentine's Day Tea!

And it was all Susanna's idea.

The tea was for the ladies of our church. So we cleaned, cooked, decorated, and then cleaned some more (because by the time you've made it through that list, the house is dirty again).

And by Saturday morning, everything was ready! The table was set...the house was decorated...

The scones-lemoncurd-mockdevonshirecream-fruit-cucumbersandwiches-eggsaladsandwiches-pb&jsandwiches-oliveandfetasandwiches-truffles-hightealemoncookies-browniecherrymoussebites-chocolatecoveredstrawberries-rasberrytea-pepperminttea-englishbreakfasttea were done!

And then, we taught everyone how to make our decorations for us--tissue paper roses!

It has been our experience that people smile

way too much at these sorts of events, so we

played the "smile" game--"it" is the only one allowed to smile, trying to trap everyone else into smiling without touching them. Let me tell you--getting a group of women and girls to hold back their smiles, giggles, and outright laughter is only slightly easier than damming the Columbia River.



Then of course, it was time to serve and eat the scones-lemoncurd-mockdevonshirecream-fruit-cucumbersandwiches-eggsaladsandwiches-pb&jsandwiches-oliveandfetasandwiches-truffles-hightealemoncookies-browniecherrymoussebites-chocolatecoveredstrawberries-rasberrytea-pepperminttea-englishbreakfasttea (all in their proper courses, naturally).

Only nursing infant boys were allowed, and Melanie got to hold Nathan--at his first tea party!

We played Valentine's Day Bingo as Lauren read the story of St. Valentine. We chatted, sipped tea, laughed, sipped tea, cried--and sipped tea. Without planning it, we managed to hear every married woman's unique proposal story, whether on a Sunday afternoon walk, in her beau's grandmother's kitchen, over a picnic lunch, in an unfinished house, beneath three trees at the park, or in the yard outside of her house. Then I read The Princess and the Kiss a wonderful tale that encouraged all the young ladies hoping for a future proposal story to protect their kiss and their purity for one worthy man.

Good idea, Susanna!

Ten Seconds

I’ll just come right out and admit it, whispering my secret into the blogosphere—our family loves the Olympics. Four years ago, we watched through our fingers in horror as Lindsey Jacobellis did a broadcast-on-international-television illustration of “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. (Proverbs 16:18)” She was in a decisive first place, grabbed her snowboard to show off, fell, and managed to barely finish with the silver. It made for a great sermon illustration for my dad.

Two years ago, Michael Phelps transfixed us as he swum victory lap after victory lap, making it look incredibly easy to leave the world-class competition in his wake. Our family grinned at each other every time our flag was raised, our anthem filled the stadium, and he received another gold medal.

This year will be no different. We’ve scoped out where to watch the games online, made plans with some friends to watch it at their house one night, and we’re already getting excited about the familiar faces that we get to see back on the snow and ice. The Flying Tomato, anyone? How about our own Washingtonian, Apolo Ohno? And can you believe Lindsay Vohn just injured herself again? Ask me to list what Winter Olympic sports I like, and I’ll start slow and build up: figure skating…ski jumping…snowboard cross, skiingspeedskatingsnowboardhalfpipe…did I miss anything? Oh yeah, curling…I could care less about that one, I’ll admit! (-:

What floors me, though, is how much of their lives these athletes devote to that elusive chance of standing on the podium with gold around their neck. Cross country skiers train twice a day, six days a week for an average of 700 hours yearly! That equals almost one solid month of 24-hour a day training! Alpine skiers practice up to twice a day with each session lasting between two to four hours. My dutiful runs every week suddenly seem paltry in comparison!
Jesse Owens, African-American athlete from the 1936 Summer Olympics, put it best: A lifetime of training for just ten seconds.

Ten seconds. That is the way of the earthly athlete, but how does the investment compare with the return? Eric Liddell's life shows a far better return: We can have a just a lifetime of training for an eternity of reward.

In 1 Corinthians 9:24-27, Paul references the Greek games, which included the Olympics, saying:
“Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it. And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown. Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air. But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.”

An Olympian rises at an early hour, eats only specific foods, trains in his sport, exercises, trains some more, and goes to bed at an early time. There are many legitimate things he could do which are not necessarily bad, but they simply have no place in his single-minded program of winning. The gold medalist shuns anything that could possibly distract or deter him, for he knows that the difference between winnin and losing may come down to a hair-breadth of a second or a percentage of a point.

Olympian Sebastian Coe expressed the devastation of losing in this way: "To anyone who has started out on a long campaign believing that the gold medal was destined for him, the feeling when, all of a sudden, the medal has gone somewhere else is quite indescribable."

These athletes have devoted their entire lives to these fleeting next few weeks, and then, in a year or two, once they are past their “peak” of competitive sports, they will start their lives over, disappear from the Wheaties boxes, and begin a new career. So I ask myself: if they give so much for a temporary crown, why would we not do it for an eternal one? Why would we not train twice a day, seven days a week, 700 hours a year for our eternal crown? Which is the more valuable?

"Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. (Heb. 12:1)"

It requires rigid self-control, single-mindedness, and determination to push through the injuries and discouragement. It requires discipline to ignore those things which are good and seek after the best. Seeking this eternal crown requires concentration, focus, self-denial, and, thankfully for Vancouver, there is no snow necessary.

Sour is Sweet

There comes a time in everyone's life when suddenly the status quo is no longer satisfactory. The tame has become mundane, ordinary is boring, and manufactured is artificial. Meet Gushy (Sarah informed me that all starters must be named), the answer to all these problems--a bubbling spring of wild yeast and lactobacilli. I carefully babied Gushy for seven days before his beautiful sour aroma, fierce flavor, and effective leavening power was concentrated enough for the supreme test: a sourdough boule.

What, you too have reached a midlife crisis concerning all things bread? Set down that wimpy white wonder mess and pick up an apron, because this, my friends, is an epiphany.

Day 1

In a nonreactive container, combine the following:

1/2 cup 80 degree water

Generous 3/4 cup whole rye flour

1/8 teaspoon molasses

Mix all the ingredients thoroughly, set plastic wrap directly over the mixture, wrap with a towel, and allow it to rest (ferment) for 24 hours at 80 degrees. I used a heating pad set on low to keep the starter at the perfect level.

Day 2

Discard half the starter, and to the remainder add:

1/2 cup 80 degree water

3/4 cup whole rye flour

Mix thoroughly, cover, and allow the mixture to ferment for 24 hours at 80 degrees. This is known as feeding the starter.

Day 3, Day 4, Day 5, and Day 6

Feed the starter twice a day, with at least 8 hours between feedings. Discard half the starter, and to the remainder add:

1/2 cup 80 degree water

1 cup unbleached all-purpose flour

Mix thoroughly, cover, and allow the mixture to ferment for at least 8 hours at 80 degrees before the next feeding. If you miss a feeding, don't fret, just pick up the schedule and continue as if nothing happened.

Day 7, or as soon as your starter is established

Stir the mixture well. Pour off and discard all but 4 ounces ( about 1/2 cup) of your starter, place it in a 2- to 4-quart nonreactive, wide-mouthed container, and add:

1 cup 80 degree water

Scant 2 cups unbleached all-purpose flour

Stir until the mixture is free of lumps. Scrape the walls of the container clean, cover, and allow the starter to ferment for 6 to 8 hours.

At this point the starter should be active, with bubbles breaking on the surface. Touch it, and you will find that gluten has developed; it should beel somewhat elastic. It is ready to be used, or placed on one of the two maintenance schedules that follow.

Care and Feeding of an Established Starter: Two Methods

On the Countertop

This is the ideal maintenance method. Feed the starter once a day as follows: Stir the starter well and pour off all but 4 ounces (about 1/2 cup). Add 8 ounces of water and 8 ounces of flour, mix until smooth, and cover.

If you plan to use the starter the next day, feed it twice, with a minimum of 6 hours between feedings. The last feeding should be 6 to 8 hours before you want to use is.

In the Refrigerator

Once a week, take the starter out of the fridge, stir well, and pour off all but 1/2 cup ( 4 ounces). Add 8 ounces of water and 8 ounces of flour, mix until smooth, and cover. Allow the starter to work at room temperature for at least 2 hours before putting it back in the refrigerator.

Three days before you're planning to bake, you'll need to raise the activity of your starter. take the starter out of the refrigerator in the morning, feed it as usual, and let it ferment for 24 hours at room temperature. The next day feed it twice, once int he morning, then again about 12 hours later. On the third morning, feed the starter early and allow it to ferment until it's ripe, about 6 hours. It should then be ready to use in your recipe. Pour off what you will need for the recipe and feed the remaining starter with 8 ounces of flour and 8 ounces of water. Mix until smooth, and allow the starter to work for at least 2 hours at room temperature before putting it back in the refrigerator.

My favorite cookbook of all time--The King Arthur Flour Baker's Companion--and Gushy, my favorite (and only) starter of all time did not let me down. Together, they yielded an airy, complex, flavorful, crusty sourdough that was unlike any bread I've ever baked (and I've baked a lot of bread)! Gushy is still happily bubbling away, and I look forward to adding him to whole wheat bread, waffles, and many more future delicacies.

Bon Appétit!

The Doctrine of the Grateful Dead

Let me guess. You’ve never heard of the Doctrine of Ethos? Before you resort to Google, let me explain. This is not some new declaration Peggy Post put together because of the complete lack of ethics in today’s society, nor is it some new environmental propaganda. In fact, it hearkens back to ancient times, but I didn’t know about it until just a few months ago.

From a young age I have believed that there is a difference between good music and bad music. This difference has less to do with whether the song is performed with perfect pitch or is screeched than whether the song honors God. As I have grown older, my understanding and opinion on this controversial but important topic has grown as well. Therefore, there are certain kinds of music that I will not listen to, because I believe that they are not God-honoring.

And then I discovered the Doctrine of Ethos.

It was formulated before electric guitars and rock music were even a twinkle in the Beatles’ eyes—the Doctrine of Ethos is over 2,000 years old, and it is life-changing.

The Doctrine of Ethos is the Greek belief that music could be either moral or immoral and that it has a powerful affect on behavior. Aristotle’s writings on this subject reveal that“Music…imitates the passions or states of the soul, such as gentleness, anger courage, temperance, and their opposites. Music that imitates a certain passion arouses that same passion in the listener. Habitual listening to music that rouses ignoble passions distorts a person’s character. In short, the wrong kind of music makes the wrong kind of person, and the right kind tends to make the right kind of person.[i]”

Plato took the idea even further and insisted that music must be included in education in order to produce a balanced person. He even recommended that men who were being trained in leadership must avoid songs of weakness and indolence, for such music would tend to influence them in that direction.

I found this idea fascinating. How could the pagan Plato and Aristotle realize that some music is inherently wrong in the days when all they had was the lute and aulos? How could they come to this conclusion when Americans today so diametrically disagree? It boggles my mind, but modern science only supports their doctrine, as demonstrated by many of the popular “Mozart Effect” and “Hard rock makes killer mice” studies. Plato and Aristotle were onto something.

As fascinating as it is, I also have to realize that our sin nature and sinful choices lead to wrong behavior, and simply listening to good music can in no way get a person to heaven! However, does music affect behavior in positive and negative ways? Absolutely!
(My violin teacher agreed with me, proclaimed the beauty of classical music, and in the same breath told me of a “Grateful Dead” concert he just went to. I’m still working on him! :-)

While Plato and Aristotle were certainly not “all-wise” and were in many ways immoral, they make a powerful point, and one that is supported by God Himself. Scripture speaks of fallen music: “Your pomp is brought down to Sheol, and the sound of your stringed instruments….How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son off the morning! (Is. 14:11b-12)” Or what about Ecclesiastes 7:5? “It is better to hear the rebuke of the wise than for a man to hear the song of fools.” Psalm 40:3, on the other hand, says, “He has put a new song in my mouth—praise to our God; many will see it and fear, and will trust in the Lord.”

The Greeks’ insightful understanding of music led them to coin the saying, “Let me make the songs of a nation and I care not who makes its laws.” We have mistakenly dismissed music as entertainment, but the Greeks knew that music was communicating its own doctrine. We give music power over our emotions, but we disagree with the Greeks that it is only a small step from there for music to affect our behavior. We label music “amoral” but still God holds us accountable for the music to which we listen.

It only takes a glance at the top ten list of songs to know exactly the state of our nation.

[i] Grout, Donald Jay. A History of Western Music. p. 6

Photo Credit

Shop Around the Corner

Lauren and I reached the seven-foot tall ebony-colored door and tugged at it to no avail until Mama came and rescued us, opening the door and letting us inside. Our world changed.

Outside, dozens of cars raced by, honking, revving, sputtering, and clattering. Inside, however, as the heavy wooden door swung shut behind us, sweet strains of violin music came from a back room, along with the twanging of strings resistant to tuning and the occasional striking of a tuning fork to hear the perfect 440 A. Smells of wood, leather, and varnish faintly perfumed the air. And the sights! Oh—the sights! Tall, panes of glass filled the front wall and looked out onto Portland, allowing great shafts of sunlight to filter inside, illuminating rosin dust floating in the air. Violins and violas lined every single wall, hanging unceremoniously from their scrolls near the ceiling. Beneath them sat gigantic replicas—cellos, squatting on the floor and looking fat and sassy. The rows upon rows of polished wood and gorgeous curves awed my six year-old mind.

Look! A tiny violin no bigger than a Christmas tree ornament!
Look! A pink music stand!
Look! A violin taken apart so I can see inside!
LOOK! A violin made entirely out of shiny, silver metal!

And as someone helped us into a small side room and brought us two or three or four or five tiny violins made for someone just my size, I watched in awe as my soon-to-be violin teacher coaxed beautiful music out of the instruments. We found the perfect violin, with the perfect bow, the perfect case, the perfect shoulder rest, and the perfect rosin for the perfect price. We got to meet with and talk to the man whose name was on the sign out front: “Schuback Violin Shop.” I could have busted a button walking out of that shop with my miniature case firmly grasped in my chubby hand—and I was hooked. Oh, was I hooked.

Through the years, every time I got taller, we had two places to go—the doctor and Schuback—but Schuback was a lot more fun! Now I knew what those gigantic violins were. I knew what the random wooden parts strewn throughout the room were. And I knew what a good violin sounded like. I could carefully discern between tone differences, picking out my favorite—but when all else failed, Mr. Schuback was there to consult with.

When I was thirteen, though, the fun had to end. I had reached the full size, and would not be getting a new violin for awhile—if ever. That day, tugging on the wooden door, and walking in with all the confidence of a wanna-be professional, took a long time. Just like when I was six, nothing but the “perfect” one passed muster. And I walked out of there with my violin—my perfect violin, that has been with me through thick and thin for six years.

Schuback moved his shop after that, but we haven’t lost touch. There’s three other budding string musicians beneath me, you see. And just last week, we walked into his new shop in search of the perfect full size violin for Susanna and the perfect ¾ size cello for Micah. This time, I was the violin teacher testing instruments out for my student. And we found just what we were looking for.

Photo Credit #1

Photo Credit #2