Happy Food Dance https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/ Sondra Lintelmann-Dellaripa' s column Happy Food Dance explores the synergy of food and the feeding of ourself and others with God’s invitation to experience him – and sometimes, recipes. Fri, 08 Dec 2023 12:44:16 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.7.1 Holidays Got You Down? Here’s What You Can Do https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/12/merry-and-bright/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/12/merry-and-bright/#respond Thu, 07 Dec 2023 15:00:00 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=206
The holidays can really get you down. Photo by Leeloo The first: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-on-the-floor-holding-a-basket-with-pine-leaves-6173416/
Can you be a believer, follow Christ, be in community with God, and not be merry and bright at Christmas?
Many People Struggle With Holiday Blues
According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, over 65% of people indicate that the holidays bring on the blues, and 55% of Americans struggle with holiday loneliness.
According to Cedars-Sinai psychologist Dr. Michael Wetter, the holidays don’t necessarily exacerbate depressive conditions specifically. Still, they do tend to create more stress. NAMI found that 51% of women have found Christmas stressful, compared to 35% of men. It is the resulting stress that can then trigger or exacerbate mental health conditions such as depression or anxiety.
I read all of this one morning while eating the rest of the Thanksgiving pumpkin pie, taking small bites, and working toward consuming the leftover half of the dish. Half of a WHOLE pie. With whipped cream. And I washed it down with a big glass of eggnog.
Now, while I usually would not shame myself or anyone for having a piece of pie for breakfast – I mean, all the good stuff we have for breakfast is in there: eggs, flour, milk – I honestly confess that this was excessive. And unnecessary. Gluttonous really. Which is a sin, I know. Thank you, Jesus, for covering my sins, past and future.
But while I might make light of my breakfast, it reveals a behavior that I revert to when stressed: Eating to excess. And it becomes more prominent during the stressful holiday season. Between September 1st and January 3rd, we have 6 birthdays, 1 anniversary, and 3 holidays. My life is in a constant state of hyper-awareness to the dates and times, not to mention our finances. Stress. And just as NAMI and Dr. Wetter diagnosed – the stress of the season brings out anxiety in me. And so I eat. A lot.
You Can’t Rely On Sunny Days
For many, though, like myself, it goes beyond the stress. The darkness of the season and living in New England, where the gloom begins November 1st and the sun rarely reappears before April 30th, envelopes me like a blanket. A wet, cold, gloomy blanket. And while I embrace the lights of the holiday season with little bulbs festooned all over the inside and outside of our house- even in the bathrooms- the twinkle of the strings does little to put the grey thoughts at bay. And as a Christian, this bothers me because it’s all about the birth of our Lord and Savior – I SHOULD be merry and bright. But my lack of merry and bright seems to be soothed by eating.
I often ponder why my go-to is food – and not God. Of course, I am Italian, and in our culture, food is LOVE. It’s not just a stereotype its reality. My grandparents raised me until I was almost seven years old. My grandmother hand-fed me my breakfast and lunch until I was nearly 5. The only reason she didn’t hand-feed me my dinner most nights was because my mother had come home from her job at the travel agency and was adamant that I feed myself.
Here is the thing I know: many people have the same challenge- when they feel stressed, they turn to food. When they are depressed, their comfort is food. I am equally challenged. But why does that bother me so much?
Because God is my Comfort and Joy. And yet I …what…forget?
It seems like food fills a God-sized hole in me, a hole that I subconsciously know is there but willingly avoid. Food is material; I can see, feel, touch, and taste it. It is often warm. It fills my belly and makes me feel weighted down, in a way assuring me that my anxiety won’t whisk me away. And physiologically, although I am not a scientist, it boosts all those good chemicals to make me feel happy. Merry and Bright.
Do This To Tackle Holiday Depression
So, this season, I am trying something new. I am attesting to it here so you all can hold me accountable: Whenever I am stressed, anxious, or feeling blue, and I turn to food (when it is not required), I will turn to God instead. I will open my bible app and listen to a devotional or a piece of scripture. I will put on worship music and, like David, dance around my room praising my God (although, unlike David, I will be fully clothed; nobody needs that trauma during the holiday- or any day for that matter!). I will put down the plate and pick up the platter of Comfort and Joy my Lord offers without expectation.
I invite you to join me. Whatever you are using to fill that hole, to bring about the Merry and Bright that is NOT Jesus, I challenge you to put it down and turn to God. Together, we will fill that God-sized hole with his love, praising the Lord in this season and always.
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/12/merry-and-bright/feed/ 0 Food Glorifies God in Italy https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/food-glorifies-god-in-italy/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/food-glorifies-god-in-italy/#respond Thu, 13 Jul 2023 20:57:37 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=188
We are planning our next adventure to Italy for September, which is always the highlight of our year, one that incorporates food. Being first generation Italian, one might think that I would have gone dozens of times before. But no, this all began when my Papa died in 2021. His final wish was to have his ashes returned to his hometown of Giulianova in the Abruzzo region of Italy. That’s along the west coast for those of you not familiar. It’s a beautiful seaside tourist area known for its wide sandy beaches, long Lidos built for leisurely passeggiata at sunset, and its arrostocini.
Our first trip was filled with sadness and joy as we brought Papa home to rest with our relatives in the family mausoleum. I was exposed to the lush and enveloping homeland that I had known only through Papa’s presence. We met many friends and distant relatives, saw historic homesteads from my family, and obelisks erected in honor of my Nonno, Francesco Manocchia.
Beyond the memorial service., we spent another three weeks exploring the country of Italy. Our time was filled with historical tours of the Vatican, the Coliseum, the Forum, and Palladian Hill. We walked along the cobblestones of Rome and viewed the ancient fountains, drinking deeply from their cool, crisp streams of free water. We drove on the autostrada, navigating the tunnels too numerous to count that cut through the Campanese countryside. We got lost among the mucha (cows) in the Appenine Mountains. And we drank prosecco and limoncello in Massa Lubrense while watching the tour boats skirt from the mainland to the isle of Capri all day.
But the food. Oh, the food!
Giving God Glory at the Table
So, whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.
1 Corinthians 10:31
Papa always sang of the food he left behind in Italy. Every meal he had in America – whether at a restaurant, a party, or even cooked by my own hand – was assessed against his memories of Italian cuisine. And none measured up to his taste. Now, on our first visit, I understood why. In Italy I found that food – the preparation, presentation, and consumption of food- was an act of worship and praise to our God, enriching our relationship with God’s creation’s, with each other, and with ourselves. The appreciation for God’s goodness through meal prep and sharing. A sacred thing.
In America, we eat differently. Most of us stateside have a different relationship with food than I found my Italian relatives to have in the old country. Firstly, they don’t shop at large warehouse stores in Italy, stocking up on double-size boxes of cereals and chips and 25-pound bags of flash-frozen chicken breasts. They eat far less processed food, nothing from a box mix, and no jarred sauces. And they eat far less, but better quality, food overall.
They also eat as an experience rather than an activity. What do I mean by that? In America, we have meal times: Lunch Break, Dinner Hour. Most are lucky if these dining periods last 30 minutes. They are centered around getting food into your system and then getting on with your day.
But in Italy – ah, in Italy, food is an experience in which there is no beginning or end. It is a rhythm that runs throughout the day, with little delineation between meals – except for the midafternoon siesta when no food is prepared, served, or consumed – until the 4PM café, intended to wake us up for more delicious experiences.
And finally, in Italy, the word is FRESH. Fresh vegetables and fruit, fresh pasta, and meats, although sparingly the meats, build a nourishing palate for each day. Papa used to shop daily here in America. I always thought it odd. Or something he did because he was old and wanted something to do. But no- in Italy, shopping for the ingredients for your daily meals is a central activity in everyone’s day. The grocers and markets are filled with Italians of all ages, with their baskets and woven bags, selecting carefully the one or two tomatoes needed for just the right bardzanelle sauce. Then the cooking starts until meal time at around 8-9-10 pm. It was the rhythm of life in Italy.
I fully appreciate the fast meal prep in America sometimes – when I’m late for bible study on a Wednesday evening or when the kids have soccer, dance, and football practice simultaneously! But I yearned for the slow pace and languished eating timeframe in Italy. I vow to bring this here into my life and relish in the actions that unify the soul, body, and God’s creations into glorious food.
RECIPE for BARDZENELLE SAUCE
Four Roma Plum Tomatoes, diced
Two whole cloves of garlic, crushed
Olive Oil
Twelve fresh basil leaves, uncut
One half-pound cooked ditalini pasta
Cover the bottom with oil in a large saucepan and turn the burner to medium. Place the two crushed garlic cloves in the oil and saute just until light brown. Remove garlic from the oil and toss in the diced tomatoes. Let simmer over medium-low heat for ten minutes, stirring occasionally. At the last minute, toss in the whole basil leaves and stir.
Pour in the cooked ditalini and bring the pasta and sauce together for another minute.
Serve with fresh parmesan cheese on the side and thick crusty Italian bread.
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/food-glorifies-god-in-italy/feed/ 0 Feed the chickens when they come home to roost- or visit https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/the-chickens-come-home-to-roost-or-visit-and-why-i-feed-them-first/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/the-chickens-come-home-to-roost-or-visit-and-why-i-feed-them-first/#respond Mon, 10 Jul 2023 17:51:39 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=161
Mary Cassatt, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
My children – all grown and into their thirties- come home to visit, and the first thing I do is feed them. I’d never really thought about it until recently when my son asked what there was to eat as he arrived through the garage door. Like Pavlov’s dogs, I have conditioned my kids to associate food with me. Or are children born with this association?
Feed our children and ourselves
It’s reasonable to imagine that babies associate food with Mom. I mean, it’s among the first things I did upon giving birth- I fed my infant.
This bonding of food and Mom set off a lifelong association. Even more, studies have shown that while in utero, babies can pick up food likes and dislikes just from what mom eats. We have a lot of influence on food in our kids.
But we also focus on feeding them in other ways, specifically feeding their soul, as God does with us.
I’ve been so distracted lately with moving our household and dealing with the sale of our old, large home, coupled with aging parent issues with my husband’s mom and dad. I’ve not been as consistent with my bible reading and devotionals as I have been in the past. And I find that I am HUNGRY for God’s word! Feeling very much like the pangs you get before lunch or dinner, my soul has been “panging” for some excellent messages, insight, and direction from God’s word. Like the nourishment moms provide to their newborns, Gods word fills us with spiritual food.
Numerous verses within the bible illustrate how much God meant for his words to be nourishing, to give us spiritual energy, and to grow our souls and bodies in his love. Some of my favorites:
Matthew 4:4 – “It is written, ‘Man shall not live on bread alone, but on every word that proceeds out through the mouth of God.'”
Jeremiah 15:16 – “Your words were found, and I ate them, and Your word became to me the gladness and joy of my heart.”
Feed my children God’s word
When my kids were little, we were Catholic. So, we had them baptized as infants. Looking back on this, I realize the act of their baptism was more about their father and my commitment to God to raise them in his word rather than any choice they had in accepting Jesus as their Lord and Savior. And, of course, we planned on them going to CCD (catechism classes) when they were in grammar school and doing the whole rotation of sacraments, starting with reconciliation and moving through first communion, confirmation, etc.
But those plans and actions didn’t seem enough. I felt hungry for them, hungry to prepare and serve them God’s truth and lead them to the table of his bounty in a satisfying, wholesome relationship with Jesus. So I began searching for spiritual food, buying them all Children’s Bibles.
Resourcing your meal prep to feed children’s spiritual needs
There are plenty of good resources out there as far as children’s Bibles go. But with my toddlers, I kept it simple: large print, hard pages, washable, lots of bright pictures, and simple stories. For my school-age children, we went with stories and fewer illustrations, but a bible that had them asking questions and searching in the book for answers. I’ve sourced two outstanding options for toddlers and grammar school children.
The Beginners Bible for Toddlers: Board book
International Childrens Bible for school age kids
Additionally, we sent our kids to Christian preschool programs and found some great summer bible camps for young kids. Our playgroup was also made up of Christian families. Staying in the community and the word with others helped us to feed our kids well.
Of course, back then, we didn’t have the internet as we do now, so your resources have expanded! But we did buy Christian videos and CDs. Today though, you have social media groups and, YouTube, on-demand movies and shows. Even some of the Bibles we used, such as Zondervan’s Beginners Bible for Toddlers, have free resources online which give you free videos, downloadable worksheets, and fun games for the kids.
Serving God’s Word
We prepped but remained flexible, just as we did with our meals and snacks. One day we might be ravenous and read, watch, and play in God’s word all day! On other days we would be busy with other things and need to remember to feed ourselves. And we gave ourselves grace in both cases! Being flexible but dedicated is the key to healthy, nutritious prep and delivering God’s word.
When my son arrived home and asked to be fed, I immediately set out to prepare something with his help. But I also took the opportunity to feed his soul, sharing our Pastor’s sermon that week and relating Bible wisdom to my son’s life updates as we cooked. Because as long as I am alive, my children will still be my children, they will still associate me with food, and I will still deliver what they need for both body and soul.
PS: We made this
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/07/the-chickens-come-home-to-roost-or-visit-and-why-i-feed-them-first/feed/ 0 Moving, an Arsenal of Plans, and the Provision of God’s Love through Food https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/moving/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/moving/#respond Tue, 27 Jun 2023 21:16:34 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=143
We were feeding some massive life changes recently. Moving our household of 23 years was among them.
There really is nothing more disruptive and unnerving than moving. In fact, psychologists indicate that it is among the top three most significant stressors in a person’s life, right up there with the death of a loved one and a major illness.
After 23 years of living in the 3300 sq ft traditional, center hall colonial we built when the kids were in grammar school, we were purging and packing to move to an 1800 sq ft townhouse in a new condo development four towns away. I became General George C. Patton invading Sicily with my arsenal of moving strategies and mapped-out plans. On the big day, we had a large moving van, five guys to pack and lift everything, and the keys to our new place. But what’s the first thing I looked for upon arriving and unpacking? Food.
Much like the Israelites as they moved out of Egypt, traveling through the desert for decades, food is a central security to our existence. For them, it was even one of the things they complained about most to Moses, so much so that God provided manna from heaven to appease their anxiety and assure them of his constant care. Exodus 16
So, after ensuring that the moving guys were unpacking everything well, and that husband Victor had it all in hand – with my lists of course- I jumped into my SUV and started scoping out the 10-mile radius of our new abode, looking for little pubs, delis, and burger bars as well as small grocers, butchers, and farmers markets.
Moving An Arsenal of Foodstuff
My first stop was a pizza joint that had to have been there since the early 1900s, from the looks of the brick walls. The menu told a tale of the family who, established by their great, great, great grandpa – I was right, 1900 at least- was still mixing and tossing dough the old-fashioned way by hand. The smells that came from the coal-fired oven set my stomach grumbling. I ordered some Italian subs to go and returned to the townhouse to feed the crew because feeding others is what I do – it brings me peace and helps me to feel the Holy Spirit move in my soul, spreading love through nourishment.
After dropping off the subs, I roamed back out to drive in the opposite direction, running into a bakery on my way. It was crowded – always a good sign- and you could feel the cloying sweetness of the dough and sugared pastries before entering through the door. Brightly lit windowed cases filled with every sort of baked good covered two-thirds of the room. I poked my way through a mass of people to get a better view – tray upon tray of Italian cookies, large eclairs bursting with cream and dripping with chocolate icing, pristinely glamorous fruit tarts, and baskets of perfectly rounded rolls. They packaged two boxes of warm goodies for me, and I continued my adventure. Next stop, the farmers market I spied on my way here, where I was blessed with freshly plucked strawberries the size of golf balls and crisp asparagus stems. I hadn’t even unpacked my cooking pans yet and was already planning dinner!
Final stop, the small-town grocer, no bigger than a mini-mart really, but filled to the brim with everything one needs to survive in this life and then some. My type of grocer- for one who loves food and cooking, I despise grocery shopping, especially at the big box stores. Too, too much for me! I had the butcher package up some chops and grabbed a small box of rice on my way out.
Back at the battlegrounds, the moving in of all the boxes and furnishings was just coming to a close. The unpacking of each box would take us well over a week, but for now, we had accomplished the move. I dumped my bags and boxes of groceries on the cool expansive quartz counters in the kitchen and proceeded to rummage through the box marked ‘kitchen goods’ for my caste iron skillet, a saucepan, and some utensils. I found my spice box, the olive oil, and one carving knife- good enough for now- and sliced and diced my way to our first homecooked meal in our new abode. Christening this space was such a grace-filled moment for us. Sharing a simple meal, prepared intentionally with love and purpose, anchored our future at that point in time. This place, this new beginning, would nourish us, God delivering on his promise to always – in all ways- bring us comfort and consistent care.
What did I make?
Skillet Browned Pork Chops with Sage Garlic Butter
One tablespoon of avocado or olive oil
Two thick-cut bone-in pork chops (8–10 ounces each)
1 oz fresh sage leaves, crushed
Four large garlic cloves, peeled, smashed
Two tablespoons of unsalted butter
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper
In a cast iron pan (well-seasoned), spread the oil. Heat over a burner set at medium.
Season chops with salt and pepper. Place chops onto heated cast iron, oiled pan. Cook for 1 minute, turn cook for 1 minute. Continue cooking for 1 minute on each side, turning after each set, until the chop reaches an internal temperature of 135 degrees (about 8 minutes total cook time.)
Set chops aside.
In the same pan, melt unsalted butter over medium heat. When melted, add crushed sage leaves and smashed garlic. Turn off the heat, return chops to pan, and baste with butter mixture, spooning over chops liberally for about three minutes. Remove chops from the pan to a cutting board and rest until the internal temperature reaches 145 degrees.
Serve chops with sauteed asparagus with lemon butter and parsley rice for a delicious spring dinner.
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/moving/feed/ 0 Prayers on the Edge of the Knife https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/prayers-on-the-edge-of-the-knife/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/prayers-on-the-edge-of-the-knife/#respond Fri, 09 Jun 2023 16:13:24 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=120
Olaf Simons, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
The fluid movement of the knife as it slides through the skin of the tomato, that little punctuated give as the skin bursts from the pressure of the sharp edge, and prayers. Each slice is rhythmic and mesmerizing. “Dear Father in Heaven, Hear my prayer today.”
Does anyone else pray while they cook?
As a child, I accompanied my grandmother to church every week and sometimes twice a week on holidays. She was a woman of routine. Same pew in the front of the church. Same seat in the pew. Same rosary beads (I was Catholic at the time.) Same small devotional. But what I recall most about my time spent with her in the church was her deep meditative state of prayer. Nothing could interfere when Oma knelt before the Lord. Her eyes were fixed on Jesus, hanging beyond the altar. Her hands gripped her rosary, her fingers rhythmically twirling each bead on the silver chain. Her lips moved in silent whispers of adoration, praise, pleas, and reconciliation. People wandered into the row and moved over and around her. Children scuffled behind her seat. Women greeted each other and leaned over her to embrace. But she was not deterred. So deep was her prayer state that the walls could collapse in that vestibule, and the dust settling would reveal Oma still communing with our Lord.
I had much to learn when I left Catholicism for plain old Bible-reading nondenominational Christianity. Prayer without prompts was one of them. I thought of Oma and her litany of novenas. What about her prayer posture had me yearning for her experience?
Searching for that Prayer Experience
I began my search for a prayer experience that felt meaningful and authentic. An experience that drew me into a relationship with God that would block out all worldly distractions. One that would offer me protected and private time in communication with Abba, my Father. I tried devotionals, stacking up books and tracts of authors and preachers. But it didn’t serve me well.
I tried reading the bible front to back, day by day. It was important to me, being amongst the first time I had done so, and meaningful, but I was not having that undistracted experience I saw Oma have with God.
I tried a schedule of prayer, morning and night. It was – well – scheduled. Performative and prescriptive.
I tried a war room – setting up a particular closet just for prayer, which soon became cluttered with to-do lists as the world interfered.
And then, one day, before I realized it, without any planning or prompting, with no scheduling or forethought, I was caught up in prayer and minutes from where I remembered I once was. That life-altering experience you sometimes have when you’re driving and suddenly realize you’ve arrived somewhere and don’t remember even going there! One moment I was slicing a tomato for a dinner I was preparing, and the next, I was stirring a pot of sauce.
For me, and maybe for you, the meditative act of preparing food – for myself or others I love- is the fertile field for prayer. It is the holy ceremony of creation, of using the treasures and gifts our Father has provided to us so richly, without any quid pro quo, that brings us to the foot of the altar in adoration, praise, pleas, and reconciliation. It is the service we act upon and perform as we offer our prayers, the systematic design of melding the variety of ingredients to bring about love and nutrition. The chopping block and knife, the stirring spoon and pot, are my rosary beads, drawing me deeper into my commune with God as I share my joy and pain and ask his grace and mercy upon the needs of others and on my own. I am blessed by this space and by the favor God has shined upon my prayer experience, prayers on the edge of a knife.
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/prayers-on-the-edge-of-the-knife/feed/ 0 Garden Prayers https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/garden-prayers/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/garden-prayers/#respond Mon, 05 Jun 2023 19:52:50 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=87
Storyblock.com Amended in Canva
There is a time to plant and a time to uproot within life’s garden. Each time can be exhilarating, painful, anxiety provoking and filled with guilt. But God won’t leave us alone in our time.
Being let go from my executive role with a sizeable multi-location hospital system in the Northeast sent me reeling into an emotional abyss of shame, guilt, anger, and fear. I felt violated and targeted for things that I knew were untrue. I was furious for being unjustly removed. I felt terrified for our household’s financial future. And I was shamed over the stigma of having been fired.
Even though that was decades ago, I can still feel the scar.
On that late September day, as I walked from the office to my car in the hospital’s parking lot, what I was experiencing did not align with the weather surrounding me. My world was grey and stormy, chaotic and threatening. Yet, the early autumn sky was clear and blue, the air crisp, the colors vibrant.
For the next two weeks, I proceeded to hole up in my kitchen armchair with tea and blankets. Every day in sweats and headbands, I stared out at the miserably beautiful weather that refused to participate in my mood.
Until a friend showed up with tools. Garden tools.
Garden Prayers
Then we dug in the dirt, its rich dark loom. Pulling old plants by their roots, clipping vines for over-wintering, pruning bushes, exterminating weeds, and harvesting late-to-the-party carrots and beets. For days on end, I spent my mornings with the warmth of that glorious sun on my back, bent over with my fingers deep into the velvet sponginess of the earth, still fragrant with the memories of the summer’s yield, while my afternoons were spent gathering up the chafe and brush, burning twigs and leaves, and gently cleansing tools. I was ending one season of growing and preparing for another.
As I knelt in that dirt before my God, day after day, toiling in his creation, I prayed. I prayed for comfort in my pain. I prayed for patience in my anxiety. I prayed for insight for my purpose. And wisdom for my future. I prayed for absolution from my shame. I prayed for another day. Another chance. Another moment of happiness.
But God provided me with all of that and more. Not by giving me a new job. But by inviting me into his experience of rebirth. In those six weeks of prayer with God, nurturing my garden for food for my family for the next season, I found peace. In tending to the preparation for the future sustenance of those I love, I found his presence. By inviting me in to SEE and EXPERIENCE his work in the moment, the work he was already doing in closing down one season – in my life and in my garden- God opened my eyes to see and my heart to say YES to stepping into his invitation to stop directing and controlling and simply to be – with him. To be present with his great I AM. There in the garden of his work. My garden. My Life.
In that period, a great peace settled over my soul. The peace that resembles the sleeping loom of my vegetable garden after the fall harvest has finally been reaped, and the beds put to sleep. The peace of my furrowed rows blanketed with a light frost on a December morning, the soil resting in the knowledge that its time will come again- to work hard, to nourish, and to produce. God’s invitation to experience him in my garden, even as it grew fallow, was painful but productive, for he blessed me with Himself. And he is enough.
Further Reading
Resources:
Garden Tools Worth Investing In
Ratatouille from your Garden Harvest
]]> https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/06/garden-prayers/feed/ 0 Comfort Food – for Our Souls https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/05/comfort-food-for-our-souls/ https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/2023/05/comfort-food-for-our-souls/#respond Wed, 31 May 2023 20:21:35 +0000 https://www.patheos.com/blogs/happyfooddance/?p=48
Schnobby, CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
Food is comforting, despite our relationship with it having become fraught with “Emotional Eating” concerns lately. As someone whose family has been impacted by eating disorders, I know the fears on emotional eating have validity. Before I go further, let me share a special place for anyone who might be struggling – NEDA – The National Eating Disorders Association- has been a lifesaving organization for our family.
However, I would like to talk about the presence of food as a means of comfort from a spiritual perspective, without feeling guilty. I’m saying there are no absolutes. Despite all the negative warnings about emotional eating, sometimes you must embrace that food is a soothing balm for your soul. It hugs you from the inside. And that feels good. Especially after the shock and pain of life’s tragedies begin to subside, food helps the process of healing. Our ancestors have known this through the ages. We have evolved from the informal, community phone lines of communication for coordinating meal prep and delivery, to more technologically adapted tools for planning weeks of meal delivery for families during times of illness or loss. Bringing covered dishes to the sick and mourning is less about the inability to cook for oneself during tragedy and more about the healing qualities of food prepared and offered in love.
God’s Love Delivered
We recently helped to celebrate the life of Paul – a brother, a husband, and a father. I have known Paul since grammar school, so well over 55 years of growing up as neighbors and friends. His tragic passing came after five years of a stoic battle with colon cancer. As an adult, Paul was a passionate and prolific gardener of organic vegetables. He built his homestead on my grandparent’s old farmland and designed his gardens as a tangle of exuberant plants, all vying to be the most robust in the rambling plots that made up his lawn. Tomatoes and peppers; eggplant and onion; zucchini and cucumbers and snow peas, with abundant herbs merging up in patches throughout the holy mess! It was glorious!
And Paul cooked too. He used this rich Eden of vibrant veggies to make the most fantastic ratatouille, velvety quiche, and substantial soups. He poured his passion into his cuisine creations for his family.
So, of course, there was food for his celebration of life. But not just your run-of-the-mill funeral deli food. At Paul’s celebration, there was an array of meaningful food for Paul and his family, filling the hall with aromatic memories of his existence, tickling our noses throughout the day as an homage to his spirit of generosity and passion for feeding others. And in this celebration, we experienced God. We experienced the warmth of God’s peace in the chill of our grief. We experienced the joy of God’s generosity, the overflowing richness of his bounty of love. And we experienced the communal gathering of breaking bread as God’s family, in unity and grace for all we suffer and endure under God’s sovereign protection.
God invites us into the banquet for healing. Psalm 104:15 states, “wine that gladdens human hearts, oil to make their faces shine, and bread that sustains their hearts.” In this Psalm, we praise God for his glorious abundance, provision, and comfort. We are reminded that God gives us exactly what we need when we need it, including food to bring a sweet sense of solace to our turmoil. When we can embrace that God’s presence of comfort is sometimes delivered through food, we can understand that the healing qualities are not in the food we consume, but in the mercy and grace that God gives us in providing the food. Food symbolizes his promise to never leave us alone in our time of need. And our response is a prayer of gratitude for his eternal sustenance and comfort.
Paul’s Easy Summer Ratatouille Recipe
One medium size eggplant peeled and cut into 1″ chunks
One large green zucchini, halved and cut into ¼” slices
One large red onion, cut into eighths
One large red bell pepper, sliced
2 cups of grape tomatoes, halved
Four large cloves of garlic, crushed
¾ cup olive oil
1 cup fresh basil leaves, torn or sliced
Five twigs of fresh thyme
Kosher Salt, to taste
Ground fresh black pepper, to taste
Fresh French bread, in abundance
Preheat oven to 400*
Salt eggplant and zucchini in a colander. Let sit for 30 minutes. Drain any remaining water and dry on paper towels.
In a large Dutch Oven over medium-high heat, sauté eggplant and zucchini in 1/3 to 1/2 cup of olive oil until golden, about 5 minutes. Remove from the pan and set aside.
Add more oil if needed, and in the same pan, sauté onion, garlic, and bell pepper for 8-10 minutes, until wilted and browned. Toss in thyme and add tomatoes. Cook for another 5 minutes over heat until tomatoes soften. Add salt and pepper to taste. Remove from heat.
Transfer pan to preheated oven and roast covered for 15-20 minutes.
Remove from oven, toss in basil leaves, stir, and serve with crusty French bread.
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