Friday, October 26, 2012

How A Family Goes Together (and a recipe)

I have some really good news about Going: It leaves plenty of room for lolling around, you just have to go looking for it, and you have to snap it up when you find it.

I used to think the best definition of Going was just "being present". You know, just keep my eyes open, keep my heart willing. Live my life as authentically as possible, with the understanding that God could always come along and mess up my plans.

Well, He messed them up. And now I see things a little differently. It requires more action than I used to think. Of course we wait on the Lord, but there's stuff to do while we wait. We don't need to pray over every little thing that comes our way. 9 times out of 10, we know what's right. (Hint: It's usually the thing we're trying to talk ourselves out of.)

I used to worry that my family might suffer for all of our new Going. Life is crazy enough around here. We're already spread thin. These are my people - the ones entrusted to me, sleeping in sheets that I washed, eating my vegetable soup. They come first.

And they do.

But I've learned that it's okay for my kids to spend a little too long driving around in the van, now and then. It's good for them, for all of us, when we squeeze another chair or two around the table. They're unfazed by going to the jail. They see nothing out of the ordinary about the tiny house so saturated with tar and nicotine that you can taste it in the air.

There's no choosing. We just stir everyone together.

And we still have days like today, spent kneading dough and glazing muffins, drinking Big K root beer and watching reruns of Muppet Babies and Inspector Gadget before bedtime.

Tomorrow, we'll eat breakfast extra-slow and hole up together, the same as we've always been, as simple and wild as we'll always be.


Make these tomorrow. Just make them, okay?

Pop Up Pancakes (originally found here)

1 cup milk
1 cup flour
6 eggs
1/4 cup melted butter
dash of salt

Mix all ingredients and divide among 2 muffin pans (24 muffins). (The batter level in each tin will be quite low.) Bake for 13-15 minutes at 400 degrees. Be sure to keep the oven light on because watching them puff up is high Saturday morning entertainment.

Top with fruit, syrup, and maybe a flurry of powdered sugar.