Day 24: Columbus' Best Desserts

I may be a fan of Whole30 and axing sugar from my life for extended periods of time on occasion, but that doesn't change the fact that I still love a good dessert. Cakes. Pies. Cupcakes. Brownies. Cookies. I have a t-shirt that says "Abs are great but have you tried donuts?" Donuts make for good desserts as well in my book.

I am by no means a dessert connoisseur. It's not like I've scoured every square inch of my city to taste-test every sweet treat it has to offer, but I certainly have taste-tested my fair share, and there are definitely some favorites in there. 

So, if you're ever in the city and want my recommendations on where to go for some stellar desserts, here's my line-up, in no particular order:

Chocolate Cafe - Just go straight for the salted caramel brownie. Absolute heaven. The Reese's Peanut Butter Chunk cookies are pretty stellar too. And they always drizzle warm milk chocolate on top of both options.    

Golden Delight Bakery - Go for their trademark fresh strawberry cake. This is a long-standing family favorite, first discovered at a high school graduation party back in 2002. Most major family occasions have involved this cake. Light. Airy. Fresh. You can't go wrong.

Cap City Diner - Don't even ask questions, just order the chocolate-covered peanut butter pie. It's not an exaggeration to say that this pie has brought tears to my eyes on occasion. When I went to celebrate a milestone birthday, this was the dessert of choice.

Just Pies - Without a doubt, the best pumpkin pie I've ever had in my life. Also the best apple, dutch apple, strawberry rhubarb, and Buckeye pies I've ever had in my life. They used to have a bakery near where I lived. It was a hazard to my health. They made a variety of sizes, one of which was a small 'baby' pie of sorts, only 5 inches or so in size. So dangerous. They had a sign hanging in the store once that said "Every pie is personal if you just believe in yourself." That pie was, no doubt, personal.

Harvest Bread Co - This technically isn't a dessert, I suppose, but it's sweet enough to qualify as one in my world. And this place also technically isn't native to Columbus, but who cares. Go for the Xtreme Cinnamon Swirl. Your taste buds will thank you.

Nothing Bundt Cakes  - Also not native to Columbus, but again, who cares. Carrot cake. Definitely carrot cake here. And if you love cream cheese frosting, this place is your new home.

Katalina's Cafe - Home of the famous pancake balls. I mean, what? Again, technically not a dessert, but again, who cares. Get the pancake balls filled with Nutella. But make sure you eat them all because they do not make great leftovers. (They also used to have these Brown Betty Biscuit Balls, which were amazing, but upon looking at their menu, it appears they don't serve them anymore?! I am mildly distressed over this.)

Whole Foods - Best cupcakes in town. Go for the chocolate peanut butter. (Although, full disclosure, the last time I went, the cupcake I had was terrible. I'm hoping that was a one-off.)

If you're a Columbus native, any other recommendations you'd throw on your own list?

------

If you venture outside the walls of Columbus, I also offer this favorite:

Levain Bakery - I'm not sure there are words. You can practically wring the grease out of these things, but they are oh-so-good. Perfect combo of crispy outside and gooey inside. I first discovered them last summer while on a trip to DC. 

Day 23: Things I Don't Regret

Back on Day 13 I spoke of regrets, the things we kick ourselves for, as if we somehow should have known with foresight what we now know only in hindsight. 

But what about the things we don't regret? What are the things that we are so glad we followed through on, no matter how big or small, difficult or easy? What are the things we look back on and think, "I absolutely got that right"?

I have a few of those:

• Walking away from horses. Not even a question in my mind. This was one of the smartest things I've ever done in my life, and if I had to do it over, I'd do the exact same thing over again, which is such a mystery to people who knew me well back then. Horses were my life. But yep, I'd walk away all over again without so much as a second glance over my shoulder. Never once have I regretted that.

• Quitting social media.  That is well-documented elsewhere, but also a no-brainer and also one of the smartest things I've ever done in my life.

• Buying a Subaru over a Ford. I love my Subie and I'm glad I picked that over my dream of a Ford pickup truck. 

• Quitting my job to stay in Kenya. It was a leap, but one well worth it. It felt energizing to step off that cliff, to leave my job, rearrange plans and spend an extra month and a half in Kenya. And leaving that last job opened up the doors to the job I've now had for a decade.

• Moving in with my parents. There was a period of about 18 months after I had a pretty epic mental health crisis where I decided to move back home with my parents while I sorted out life and everything that had erupted in my brain. That felt like admitting defeat, being in my 30s and moving back home to literally live in my parents' basement, but I don't think I could have gotten healthy in the timeframe that I did otherwise. (Thanks, Mom and Dad.)

• Seeing Ben Rector in concert. I've seen Ben multiple times, but one particular concert I went to, I was sicker than a dog. My friend Jill has been with me to every Ben Rector concert and on a lark we decided to go see him in Cincinnati years ago. I was feeling miserable, but we still decided to go. It was the best concert I've ever been to. (Bonus! I'll be seeing him this week at the Kennedy Center! A full report to come later.)

• Joining a gym. Y'all. Going to the gym has literally changed my life. I used to have chronic low back problems and at worst, I had a herniated disc. Absolute misery. I vowed I would never go through that again so long as it was in my power. I got my fanny into a gym after that. This is consistently the healthiest and strongest I've ever been in my life.

And just for fun:

• Ordering Chick-fil-A. Is it even possible to go wrong with Chick-fil-A? I've never regretted this decision in my life. 😋

Day 22: Eucatastrophe

Eucatastrophe.

This is perhaps my favorite word in the English language, coined by JRR Tolkien.

Tolkien himself defined it as "the sudden happy turn in a story which pierces you with a joy that brings tears." In its purest form, it means 'good catastrophe.'

It's the moment in the story when you think all hope is lost, that there's no way through whatever mess the characters find themselves in. But then - but then something happens. The tide turns perhaps in a way you never excepted or imagined, but it comes nonetheless and hope stirs. For a moment, you realize that maybe all the sad things really can come untrue. As TolkienGateway.net explains, 

In essence, a eucatastrophe is a massive turn in fortune from a seemingly unconquerable situation to an unforseen victory, usually brought by grace rather than heroic effort. Such a turn is catastrophic in the sense of its breadth and surprise and positive in that a great evil or misfortune is averted.

A turn brought by grace. Tolkien argued that Jesus' death on the cross was the greatest eucatastrophe in history, the moment when it seemed all hope had been lost, but in truth, was the defining moment of victory. 

I think we all have moments like this in our own lives, our own mini-eucatastrophes scattered across the plot lines of our lives, moments when we thought we had reached the end, facing our own "seemingly unconquerable situation." And in those moments, it might have been easy to wonder, "How could this possibly end well?"  

God, in his infinite kindness and wisdom, knows the answer to that question because he is the master author of all eucatastrophes. It's the turn brought about by his grace, and not our heroic effort. As Tolkien said, "It is a sudden and miraculous grace: never to be counted on to recur."

When you trace the timeline of your life, where are the eucatastrophes? Where are the moments when grace miraculously and suddenly rushed in and claimed an unforeseen victory? Those moments are there, but we must have eyes to see them. We must have eyes to see the turning of the tide, to see both the good and the catastrophe all at once, reconciling the two together, for they are closer kin than we would like to think.

In the book of Genesis, Joseph knew of this eucatastrophe of which Tolkien spoke. Sold into slavery by his brothers at a young age, Joseph both climbed to the heights of ancient Egyptian power and tumbled into the depths of its darkness. He languished for years in prison, forgotten by those around him, his father and brothers believing him dead. 

And then in a turn brought by grace, he was remembered. He was liberated from prison and rose to become pharaoh's second-in-command. A famine struck the land and it is under Joseph's leadership that the people managed to survive. His brothers went Egypt to buy grain, and it there that they discovered the brother they thought dead was, in fact, alive and well. And with Joseph in a position of power now, they were at his mercy.   

From the perspective of the brothers, this was their seemingly unconquerable situation. They had sold their brother into slavery and led their father to believe his favorite son was dead. How could Joseph possibly ever forgive them for this?  

Through a turn brought by grace. 

"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. So do not fear..." (Genesis 50:20-21a).

A good catastrophe.

This is the same through line with which Tolkien can claim the cross of Christ was the greatest eucatastrophe in the history of the world. The devil meant for the cross to bring evil against the Son of God, but God himself meant it for good, that many people should be kept alive, should be saved.

So do not fear. 

You may look back on your past or be standing in your present and see nothing but catastrophe. But God sees the eu- in your catastrophe. He sees the happy ending, whether you can or not. Whatever the enemy has meant for evil in your life, God has meant it for good.

Just look for the moment when your breath catches.

"It is the mark of a good fairy-story, of the higher or more complete kind, that however wild its events, however fantastic or terrible the adventures, it can give to child or man that hears it, when the 'turn' comes, a catch of the breath, a beat and lifting of the heart, near to (or indeed accompanied by) tears, as keen as that given by any form of literary art..." - JRR Tolkien

------ 

The BBC wrote a commentary on Tolkien and his neologism recently. Worth a read.

Day 21: The Value of Questions

I love questions. I love it even more when I'm around people who ask good questions. Asking questions shows you are interested in the other person, that you care about the details of their life. If you want to show that you care about me, then ask me questions and take an interest in my life. 

I learned this lesson from my friend, Austin. We were hanging out one night when we were in college. I got back to my dorm later and we were chatting some more on AIM (remember those days with AOL Instant Messenger?!). I commented and said, "I felt like that conversation was very one-sided and that I did all the talking." To which he responded, "That's because it was one-sided and you did do all the talking." 

Oh. Right.

See, Austin was and is great at asking questions. And I'm not talking just generic, surface-level questions. He would ask specific, detailed questions because he was paying attention and listening well, knew how to get to the heart of things, knew how to cut through the noise. So, yes, I did do all the talking that night because I never bothered to ask him questions in return.

That was probably one of the most valuable life lessons I've ever learned, certainly an aha moment. There is an art form to asking questions, and since that conversation with him, I have endeavored to ask good questions when talking with others. It has taken a tremendous amount of practice, intentionality and clarity of mind. It requires that I pay attention in a conversation, to stay tuned in and engaged. I saw it modeled well in Austin - and in others since. Sure, sometimes in certain social settings, particularly with complete strangers or an unfamiliar environment, this skill momentarily goes out the door because I'm nervous, trying to take in everything else going on around me. But generally, it has become second nature.

So, how 'bout a round of questions? I obviously can't sit across the table from you over a slice of a salted caramel brownie in this context and have ourselves a little chat, but you can mull these over on your own nonetheless - or sound off in the comments. If you're looking for a boost to inspire your question-asking abilities, my mom bought me a box of questions from TableTopics, which is a simple and easy way to engage others by asking questions.

• What's the best advice you've ever been given? ("Let it be what it is until it isn't.")
• What do you like most about your home? (The silence.)
• Where is your favorite place on earth? (Either my own bed or the recliner in my bedroom.)
• What one possession means the most to you? (My journals.)
• What's the best thing about coming home after you've been away? (Sleeping in my own bed.)
• Which game is most fun to play? (Mad Gab.)
• Who makes you laugh? (Sandra.)
• Who do you owe a huge thank you? (My parents.)
• What's your favorite part of the day? (The quiet of the evening, watching sunset.)
• What's the best thing you've found in nature? (I don't know if can say I found a whole mountain range, but we'll go with the Grand Tetons.)
• What's the nicest thing your mom does for you? (Loves me despite my biting words towards her sometimes)
• Which of the five senses are you most grateful for? (Sight.)
• What's the healthiest thing you do for your body? (Work out regularly and eat whole foods.)
• What was your favorite book or movie from last year? (Top Gun: Maverick. Duh.)
• Which leftover are you most excited about seeing in your refrigerator? (Chicken casserole and homemade mashed potatoes.)

------

If you want more resources on asking good questions, check out Warren Berger's content for some inspiration.

Day 20: I Got Nothing

Some days you just don't have anything worth saying (or you procrastinated and didn't make time to write 😬). 

Today is one of those days. 

But it still counts!

Day 19: Smelling Like Smoke

There are some people who reek of their life circumstances, of everything that has seemingly gone wrong in their lives. They can be stressed, anxious, bitter, angry, hurtful, negative, and pessimistic, and they wear those emotions like they wear a pair of adult onesies - covered from head-to-toe. They complain about their past and their present and they assume the worst about their future. You know the people I'm talking about? They are the ones who are a drain on your mind and emotions, the ones you mentally psych yourself up to spend any amount of time with because they just require so.much.energy. You aim to take them in small doses because too much of them just makes you want to slide off the couch and hide in a corner. You may or may not know what fire they've been through, but you know they've been through one because they come out smelling like it, their scorched emotions filling every crevice of the room. 

I know that kind of person because I was that kind of person, in some ways. I just hid it really well most of the time. There was a time in life when I was just kind of mad at the world over a whole host of things that I felt had gone wrong. I look back and marvel that I actually had any friends at that time. God bless 'em, they stuck with me in those frosty, bitter years. I remember a college friend very kindly but very bluntly saying to me, "Courtney, sometimes you're just straight up cold."

Ouch.

That one stung. 

But I took note of her comment and began taking stock. I realized I carried around in my heart and my mind this notion that I had been wronged, that God had taken from me far more than he had given me. This faulty thinking bled over into so many areas of my life - my interactions with friends, how I treated classmates, how I acted within my family, what I believed to be true about God. I reeked of the negativity and bitterness harbored deep in my heart. I was rigid and unbending at times, blunt in the delivery of my opinions without regard to the other person's emotions. There was no air freshener strong enough to mask the smell I left behind sometimes. As my high school English teacher once told me, "You do not suffer fools gladly, Courtney."

If you have read the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego found in Daniel 3, then you'll be well-acquainted with the fire they walked through. The king at the time - King Nebuchadnezzar - built a statue of gold and issued a decree that everyone bow down and worship it. Everyone did, except for those three men. In a fit of rage over this insult, the king summoned the men, demanding they bow down and worship this statue. To this, the men very calmly replied:

King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up” (Daniel 3:16-18).

You can imagine that response went over like a lead balloon. The king is even angrier after this response and throws the men into a blazing furnace, seven times hotter than normal.

And what happens, to the king's surprise? There are not only three men in the fire, still alive, but a fourth has joined them, a man looking like a "son of the gods." And the king was right - only it was the Son of God walking in the fire with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, working a miracle to save them from the flames.

But you know what I think is equally amazing? I mean, yes, it's no doubt a miracle that these men could be thrown into a blazing hot furnace and still walk around, but the other stunning miracle is what happens after they come out from the flames:

[The leaders] saw that the fire had not harmed [the men's] bodies, nor was a hair of their heads singed; their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them (Daniel 3:27).  

There was no smell of fire on them. 

These men who had just been standing around in flames that incinerated the soldiers who threw them in there don't even have a trace of smoke remaining on them.

Allow me to state the obvious lesson to be learned here: 

Just because you walk through the fire doesn't mean you have to come out smelling like smoke.

When we go through difficult things - even traumatic things - in life, it doesn't mean that we have to spend our remaining days giving off the fragrance of those things. When we go through difficult things, it doesn't mean we have to work so hard at making sure everyone else is as miserable as us. When we go through difficult things, it doesn't mean we have to leave a trail of anger or bitterness in our wake. 

When we go through difficult things in life, when we walk through the fire, it is possible for us to come out smelling like some thing other than the fire itself. It's not just a miracle that there is another in the fire with us, but also miracle that we don't smell like the fire.

If you read through the books of Leviticus and Numbers, time and time again, it talks about the sacrifices offered to God, sacrifices that had "an aroma pleasing to the Lord." These were sacrifices burned in the fire, but with an aroma pleasing to God.

It's possible to go through the fire and not coming out smelling like smoke. You don't have to walk around bearing the scent of the crucible for the rest of your life.

What is the fragrance you leave behind? Is it one of a scorched heart, burned so bad that you're determined to overwhelm everyone else within your vicinity? Or is it one of sweetness, a pleasant aroma? 

Choose carefully the scent you leave behind. And take note that sometimes, the fragrant offering is the absence of the fragrance. 

"But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession and uses us to spread the aroma of the knowledge of him everywhere. For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. To the one we are an aroma that brings death; to the other, an aroma that brings life" (2 Corinthians 2:14-16).

Day 18: Long Live Sheldon

Various people have handed me plants over the years as gifts, saying, "Trust me, this is such a hardy little plant. You can't kill it."

To which I lean in close and always say, "Trust me. I will."

My ability to grow or sustain anything green is laughable. My best friend from high school gave me a bamboo plant when we graduated, possibly for good luck. I think the bamboo needed the luck more than I did. I killed it within a year. An ex-boyfriend gave me a little pine tree, saying what everyone always says, "This is such a hardy little plant. You can't kill it." It was a pile of brown needles in no time. 

My friend Cindy gave me a succulent as a housewarming gift several years ago, specifically buying one after I told her I have such a terrible time keeping anything alive. "Trust me, this is such a hardy little plant. You can't kill it," she said. Within mere months, I went to pull a dead leaf off at the base and the whole thing collapsed like a house of cards, the roots rotted. 

I rescued an aloe plant abandoned by a co-worker at the start of the pandemic. I wasn't sure it was going to do any better under my watch than if I had just left it at the office, but I thought I'd give it a shot. It surprisingly lasted for a couple of years and then I repotted it and everything went to hell in a handbasket. I gave it to the guy I was dating at the time in the hopes he could salvage it. He did, of course, and it started flourishing again. 

If you were to visit my house, you would notice there is exactly ZERO landscaping. Not a single flower or hosta or vine in sight. I planted some lavender in two urns by my garage last summer. I'm glad they were only a few dollars a piece. They, too, died. Well, one did, and then I gave the other almost-dead one to my mom to replant. It, too, flourished under her watch. I can't even get grass to grow. Grass, people, grass. I planted some grass seed in some patchy spots in my yard. Nothing happened. I planted some more. Eventually some grew in, but that clearly was just an act of grace on God's part because I usually forgot to water it.

My friend Ruth finally got a clue and just bought me some magnets shaped like fake aloe plants. She's a wise woman, that girl.

And then there's my peace lily.

I've decided to name him Sheldon, for reasons I will get to in a moment.

Sheldon is my miracle plant. He, too, was one of the plants abandoned by a co-worker at the start of the pandemic. I previously had good luck with peace plants - the one and only plant in my life I've ever been able to keep alive for an extended period of time. I was mildly hopeful this guy might make it but he was already in rough shape. I brought him home and generally left him to his own devices. I occasionally remembered to water him when his leaves very clearly started drooping.

And miracle of miracles, Sheldon is still alive - THREE YEARS LATER. 

However, in those three years, Sheldon has never bloomed. 

I would read articles on caring for peace lilies and how to get them to bloom. The articles would say things like, "The pH needs to be just right. They need sunlight, but filtered sunlight, not direct sunlight. They don't like drafty spots, so keep them away from vents. Make sure you fertilize it. Don't overwater it, but don't underwater it."  

Frick.

It's going to take a miracle for this thing to ever bloom again. 

And then I moved Sheldon. 

This is where I explain his name.

If you've seen the TV show "The Big Bang Theory," you'll know where this is headed. Sheldon Cooper is one of the main characters, full of maddening quirks and idiosyncrasies, one of which is that he has to sit in a particular spot on the couch. He explains the precision of why that oh-so-particular spot is optimal: "In the winter, that seat is close enough to the radiator to stay warm and yet not so close as to cause perspiration. In the summer, it's directly in the path of a cross-breeze created by opening windows there and there. It faces the television at an angle that is neither direct, thus discouraging conversation, nor so far wide as to create a parallax distortion."

This is the human version of my plant. I moved the plant version of Sheldon from the far side of the room to the middle, not because I cared about him or his proximity to the vent or whether he was in direct sunlight or not or whether he was facing the TV enough so as to not create a parallax, but because I moved furniture around and he was in the way.

And what do you know? 

Lo and behold, he bloomed last November.

What?!

I had to do a double-take when I first saw the bloom because I thought my eyes were deceiving me. Surely, this can't be! I nearly wanted to start clapping and cheering, rooting for the little guy. You bloomed! Way to go, you ridiculously fickle and persnickety plant! You did it! Against all odds! Uphill both ways! Despite your notoriously good plant-killing owner! Congratulations! You triumphed against all odds! You overcame adversity!

Now, don't die on me, Sheldon.

Day 17: Dead Ends

For years, I looked back on one particular dating relationship with a form of regret that lingered in the shadows of my mind. It lurked quietly, hovering in the corners of my subconscious. The relationship lasted all of nine months before it ended, and I always wondered if it should have ever even started. 

I lived with the notion that I was supposed to somehow get everything perfect right out of the gate, like somehow I should have seen it all coming. I felt there had been a green light to say yes to moving forward with dating the guy - and then a red light came. In the aftermath, I would often ask God in my prayers, "Did I not hear you right? Did I not discern well? Did I miss a step somewhere? Because if that had been the right thing, wouldn't we have stayed together, wouldn't it have all worked out?" 

And I would always pray, echoing the words of Moses from Exodus 33:15-16, "If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?” Unless God's presence was going with me, I didn't want to go. I didn't want anything to do with dating this guy if I wasn't sure that God's hand was upon it, his presence going with me. How else would anyone know that I was set apart if God's presence didn't go with me? 

Those same questions came back again more recently after I dated a guy from church. I felt confident about the decision to move forward with dating, to give the relationship a chance, to grant it the margin necessary for it to breath and grow. I discerned green lights again, praying those verses out of Exodus 33 yet again. And within weeks a red light came, a bold unmistakable red light. "God, did I not hear you right? Did I not discern well? Did I miss a step somewhere? Should we have never dated to begin with? Was this a sign that your presence wasn't with me?" The same questions all over again, that same regret and second-guessing lingering in the shadows of my mind. 

I kept running into dead ends, wondering all along if I had taken turns I should never have taken.

And then it hit me, like a bolt from the blue. By the grace of God, it finally hit me:

Dead ends are not proof of God's absence. 

Exhibit A:

The Israelites and the Red Sea. 

The Israelites were the very chosen people of God. Of all the people that should have gotten it right, it should have been them. God commanded Moses, the chosen leader of God's chosen people, to lead the people out of Egypt and head for the promised land. 

Where do they wind up on the way?

At a dead end, running smack dab into a wall of water with no way forward and a pursuing army behind them.

As Pharaoh approached, the Israelites looked up, and there were the Egyptians, marching after them. They were terrified and cried out to the Lord. They said to Moses, 'Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!'

Their questions were my questions. God, why? Why did you lead me up into this relationship only for it to end in heartbreak on one side or the other? Wouldn't it have been better if we had just never walked down this road to begin with? Wouldn't it have been better if we had just been kept ignorant?

We are a people haunted by dead ends, wondering why we ever got our hopes up to begin with, wondering why green lights turn red.

But you know what was still with the Israelites at that dead end, facing that wall of water and a pursuing army?

God's presence. 

He was the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. 

Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel’s army, withdrew and went behind them. The pillar of cloud also moved from in front and stood behind them, coming between the armies of Egypt and Israel. Throughout the night the cloud brought darkness to the one side and light to the other side; so neither went near the other all night long. Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.

The dead end was not proof of God's absence or that the people had erred.

They were right where they were supposed to be.

When this revelation hit me, it was like scales falling from my eyes. I suddenly saw my past with a whole new level clarity - and whole new level of grace and freedom. Maybe all of those seemingly 'failed' relationships weren't dead ends after all. Maybe they were God's gracious reminders to this striving perfectionist that his sovereignty far exceeded my inadequacies, insecurities, and doubts. Those relationships had purpose and reason, teaching me not only about myself, but God himself. Maybe the dead ends weren't dead ends after all. 

Now, are there times when we have genuinely erred and have walked down a path we shouldn't have? Yes. We're human, we're sinful, and we regularly do dumb and foolish things. There's a reason we are compared to sheep in the Bible. Sheep are not the sharpest tools in the barnyard shed. Like sheep, we do stupid things, and yes, sometimes we do dismiss God's voice and the promptings of the Holy Spirit and choose to go our own way. In those instances, we need to confess, repent, and take good notes on how to not walk that road again.  

But if our hearts are set on God and his will and his ways, if we are earnestly seeking his face, desiring what he desires, then we have to trust by faith that he will make known to us the path of life (Psalm 16:11). This is why discernment is so essential, to distinguish between those moments when the dead end is because of our own sinfulness and when the dead end is the ordained hand of God. "Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit" (Galatians 5:25). It is this keeping in step with the Spirit that will guide our paths, even when those paths lead to seemingly dead ends.

So, for those of you who are second-guessing, wondering if the dead end you're standing at is because you missed a step somewhere - 

Dead ends are not proof of God's absence. 

He's present. 

He's the cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. 

Besides, your dead end may not be a dead end after all. 

Maybe God is just waiting for the right time to part the waters.

Day 16: Favorite Books

I love to read. I wouldn't say I'm a voracious reader. I'm not consuming a book a day or anything like that, but I do love a good book, particularly a good fiction book when my evening is blank and I have time to curl up in my recliner and read for hours. It's been that way since I was a kid. I remember being on the school bus in elementary school, so engrossed in a book that sometimes I wouldn't hear someone repeatedly calling my name. The bookshelves in my bedroom as a kid were filled with just that - books upon books (and model horses). 

I will confess as an adult, though, I have been less and less inclined to buy my books these days, but rather prefer to simply check them out from the local library. If I think it's good enough to read it again, then I'll buy a copy. If you were to browse my shelves now, you would know that what fills them is generally the cream of the crop of my personal collection (there are a few stragglers, though, I should probably part with). I started winnowing the collection in recent years, mainly because I got tired of boxing them up and moving them from apartment to apartment. So what remains are either a) autographed copies, b) books I've read more than twice, c) theological reference books, or d) books given to me as a gift with an inscription on the inside. Everything else has made its way out the door. 

So what are some of my all-time favorite books? I share the following in no particular order:

A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. This book is without question in the top three of my favorite books, regardless of genre. A professor of mine first introduced me to it in college, maybe grad school. It's profoundly powerful and thoughtful. I can't tell you how many times I've read it. And the marked up pages prove it.

The Martian by Andy Weir. Quite possibly one of the funniest books I've ever read. The movie was far more dramatic, so if you've seen the movie, Weir's sense of humor didn't entirely translate. Laugh out loud hysterical. I definitely pick the book over the movie in this instance.

The Lord of the Rings trilogy by JRR Tolkien. This is old news if you've been around this blog, but I love these books. I read them for the first time in grad school and I was incredibly sad when I reached the end of them, I just wanted them to go on forever. Tolkien is a masterful storyteller. 

Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell. I remember my first grade teacher reading this book to our class and I absolutely loved it. I'm not even sure why, but I was mesmerized by it as a child. 

The Beast in the Jungle by Henry James. This is a fictional short story, written in 1903. It is all sorts of tragic and sad, but for whatever reason, I find it captivating. I first discovered it in a college American lit class. The language is a bit antiquated and it can be a lot to slog through - there's still some passages where I have no idea what he's saying. But man, such a beautifully heartbreaking story. I re-read it every few years. 

True Devotion by Dee Henderson. This was probably the first book I ever read by Dee. A sappy dramatic romance novel. I love it. I can't tell you the number of times I've read it. We could also add Pretense and A Place Called Home, both by Lori Wick. Again, mindless sappy romance I've read over and over again. 

Knowledge of the Holy by AW Tozer. This one is probably my favorite theology book. I first read it in the summer of 2007 when I was living in North Carolina. I couldn't get enough of it. I felt like my head and my heart were exploding every time I finished chapter. It landed in a season of life where I was learning so much about the character of God, and then this book came along and gave words to everything I had been learning and experiencing.  

The Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp. This is a Christmas devotional, but I read it nearly every Advent and have done so for years. Ann has a very lyrical style of writing that I think is stunning.  

Secretariat by William 'Bill' Nack. It's hard to take a true story, filled with a lot of history and context, and make it read like fiction. Bill Nack pulls it off. Effortless storytelling. 

Any books you would recommend or qualify as your own all-time favorite? Offer 'em up!

Day 15: What Hollows the Mind

We all go a little crazy when someone takes too long to respond to a text, email or phone call, don't we? Or is that just me? We send a message and we have an unspoken expectation about how long it should take someone to respond, and when they don't, our minds start filling in the blanks. Did I offend them? Are they ignoring me? Why aren't they responding? Did they not get the text? Should I follow-up? Or if you're like my mom, you're wondering if your daughter is dead on the side of the road and you should start planning her funeral. (PS: I love you, Mom, and I know it's because you care.) Our insecurities rise with each passing moment and our minds scramble to fill the unknown with the known, making assumptions about why this person is not responding.

My very wise friend, Tim, once told me, "Assumptions are the lowest form of intelligence." 

Don't we do the same with God? When we believe God is a long time in coming - longer than we expected or hoped - in answering our prayers or bringing to pass something specific in our lives, we take matters into our own hands. As humans we do not dwell well in ambiguity and uncertainty, and so we take steps to give definition and shape to that ambiguity, to turn it into something we can touch and feel and know. The unknown is scary, the known is safe. While waiting for the truth to reveal itself, for the facts to be made known as to why the delay, the insecurities, questions, and doubt take root. We begin to second-guess the very nature and character of God. Wait, maybe he can't be trusted like I thought. Maybe his word can't be trusted. Maybe his ways can't be trusted, we think to ourselves. 

The ancient Israelites had the act of making assumptions down to an art form, quite literally giving shape their assumptions. Exodus 32 tells the tale of the golden calf, when the Israelites fashion an idol and bow down to worship it. But prior to that, their leader, Moses, had ascended Mount Sinai to meet with God, and it was there on the mountain that God would deliver the Ten Commandments. For forty days and forty nights, Moses met with God and for all those days and nights, "the cloud covered it, and the glory of the LORD settled on Mount Sinai...To the Israelites the glory of the LORD looked like a consuming fire on top of the mountain" (Exodus 24:15, 16a, 17). 

But down at the foot of the mountain? Assumptions were flooding the minds of the people. Take note of what the opening of chapter 32 conveys:

When the people saw that Moses was so long in coming down from the mountain, they gathered Aaron and said, 'Come, make us gods who will go before us. As for this fellow Moses who brought us up out of Egypt, we don't know what has happened to him (Exodus 32:1).

As for this fellow Moses, we don't know what's happened to him.

Ambiguity. 

Uncertainty.

Doubt.

Assumptions.

So, what do the people do? They start filling in the blank. Well, we can't see this Moses fellow, so let's make something we can see. We can't see this God he proclaims or really see how he's working, so let's make a god we can hold in our hands. Let's make the unknown, known. So, they give up all their gold earrings, and Moses' brother, Aaron, fashions a golden calf, to which the people offer sacrifices to, indulging in revelry and general shenanigans to boot.

In the new Amazon TV series (which is amazing, by the way), The Rings of Power, Galadriel, one of the main characters, said in the wake of an unexpected turn from the enemy, when all the people were scattered and they weren't sure who was dead or alive, "What cannot be known hollows the mind. Fill it not with guesswork."  

What cannot be known hollows the mind. 

Fill it not with guesswork.

When we start making assumptions about God's or other people's motives, behaviors, or reasonings, which is to say the "unknown," it hollows our minds. And filling it with guesswork doesn't help. It starts to carve out spaces in our brain filled with doubt, fear, worry, and unbelief.  

Ultimately, hollowed minds lead to hollowed hearts.

"Furthermore, just as they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, so God gave them over to a depraved mind, so that they do what ought not to be done" (Romans 1:28).

To avoid hollowed minds, we have to fill them with truth, with what is known, chiefly "the knowledge of God," as Paul wrote in Romans. Minds filled with the weight of who he is are far less likely to be hollowed out, to be filled with guesswork. A.W. Tozer said in his masterful work, Knowledge of the Holy, "The man who comes to a right belief about God is relieved of ten thousand temporal problems at once..." 

To come to a right belief about God - a belief free of assumptions and guesswork - is to come to a mind that is full rather than hollow, and a heart that is likewise. 

But how do we discover what is known about God, to come to a right belief about him? 

Look to his Word and no other source.

Look to his Word, "like gold refined seven times" (Psalm 12:6), gold far superior to that of the golden calf.

While the Israelites danced and sang around the golden calf, they did so with hollow minds. Little did they know, God had come to fill their hollowed minds - and their hollowed hearts. 

"This is the covenant I will establish with the people of Israel after that time, declares the Lord. I will put my laws in their minds and write them on their hearts. I will be their God, and they will be my people" (Hebrews 8:10). 

Hollowed minds hollow no more, filled with the truth of God rather than guesswork.