Created to Create

The other night I rode home from work and was exhausted... emotionally, physically and especially socially. I have been realizing that although I haven't always been like this, I thrive on my alone time. I haven't had much lately so when I came home to my roommate leaving for the evening I was thrilled. I did my usual routine: dinner, facebook, shower. Then what? I started to get anxious when I was faced with myself. It was maybe 8:00 and I had exhausted all my busybody tasks. Half-dressed, I stood in the middle of my living room and gazed around at the empty spots on the walls, the furniture and the pieces of art already hanging. My mind began to race and I couldn't help but dart into my bedroom to my antique trunk full of art treasures. A couple years ago when I was renting a room from my brother, I went garage saleing in a rainstorm and stumbled upon this ancient piece of joy. I remember the feeling it gave me as I stuffed it in the back of my Mini Cooper and drove home with my back door up for the world to see my new delight for only $35. There were newspapers in the bottom of the trunk with 1929 dates on them! My brother definitely did not understand why, in my financial state, I chose this as a wise investment. I wish he could've seen the look on my face as I rummaged through the bins of fabric scraps, paint cans, shattered glass chips and decorative paper. This rush of energy hit me; this sense of adventure and fresh discovery that seems ridiculous now that I type it out. The next couple of hours were spent transforming a fruit crate into a new kitchen spice rack, adding splashes of life to the painted peacock on the livingroom canvas, and cutting out letters one-by-one to create a mural of truth on my kitchen wall. I had a paint smear on my cheek and a cordless drill in my hand. Piles of buttons, nails and ribbons were scattered on my kitchen counters.

One of the most intoxicating feelings is when I'm in the stages of falling in love and every little thing the other person does is an object of my complete adoration. It's the way his lips form a half right-sided smile when I grab his hand and how his head moves up and down everytime he plays that one song on his guitar. The mannerisms that create a rollercoaster of emotions in my heart and butterflies in my stomach would never be noticed by the average onlooker.

As I fluttered around from room to room allowing my hands to express my heart, I was overtaken by a sweet presence. A presence that made me realize that I was the object of that intoxicating adoration. At this point, I was still barely clothed. Let's not get distracted by this in a sexual or akward sense. I share that because there is absolute significance in the freedom I felt as I was creating. I felt that I was being looked at and at that moment was capturing One's heart in the rawest and rarest of forms. I could hear the Lord whisper, "I am overwhelmed by the beauty in the way your eyes squint when you are on the verge of a creative idea. The way your hair curls to it's very end and how your arms flow to create streaks of art on the canvas." Although to the average onlooker, I would've just been a frantic amateur artist and decorator who needed to put some clothes on, my Father was captured by me.

Then it hit me. The Creator is delighted when his creations walk in what they were created to do. This glorifies the Maker. If I created something and it functions in the way I created it to, fulfilling the purpose with which I created it, I would be pleased and proud. This is what was happening that unexpected night in my apartment. I was created to create. Beautiful meals out of elements of nature, a piece of art on a canvas and even to the extent of children one day. Creating is what makes me feel alive. When I function in that, my maker is pleased and glorified. It is not I who dream up ideas and express them, but it is ultimately my Creator.

What to do with an abundance of zucchini

Well, today I brought home 17 zucchinis. Some little baby ones, some long curvy ones and a couple bumpy ones. They all got a little damaged from the recent cold front. Nothing internally wrong, just a few spots here and there on the skin. The average vegetable shopper just wouldn't select these guys, so I get them all to myself. So this will be an ongoing post about all the ways I cook/ eat zucchini. I usually only cook for myself so all the recipes will be for 1-2 servings. And please, for goodness sakes, never feel forced to stick exactly to any recipe, and especially these since I'm no pro. If you hate onions, don;t throw the whole idea out, just add more zucchini or another veggie on hand. And as a sidenote: Greenbags! Coolest invention ever. https://www.greenbags.com/I store my plethora of veggies in these bags for weeks.

Zucchini Pita
Peel 2 zucchinis and cut in little cubes.
Slice 1/4 of a sweet white onion into strips.
Slice a sweet red pepper (Carabi) in half and remove seeds then cut in little squares.
Saute all the veggies in olive oil and whatever seasoning you like (I used Mrs. Dash's Original Blend) and a squeeze of fresh lime juice.
Heat up a whole wheat pita in the microwave for 30 seconds and slice in half.
Spread classic hummus on the inside of the pita and then stuff with the veggies.
Top with a little feta or goat cheese.

Zucchini Spaghetti
Cut 3 zucchinis into little triangles (Slice into thin circles then cut the circle into 4 triangles)
Chop 4 cloves of fresh garlic into small pieces
Cut 1 sweet white onion into strips
Saute the zucchini, garlic and onions in olive oil
Break a handful of whole wheat spaghetti in half and cook in boiling water until done
Add the spaghetti and 1/2 jar of your favorite red sauce (I used an organic Tomato and Basil one) to the veggies and mix to coat
Put temp on low and stir until sauce warms up
Top with a little Parmesan cheese

Vegetable Pizza
Saute in olive oil: 1 sweet white onion, 4 cloves of garlic, small pieces of asparagus and 2 zucchinis cut into thin circles
Cover whole wheat pizza crust in olive oil and thin tomato slices
Put sauteed veggies on top and some fresh basil
Top with feta cheese and bake

glory on a vine

I live on an island. Every morning I open up my eyes, stumble out of my bed (which happens to be a mattress on the floor) and immediately walk outside on my porch and stand there for about 30 seconds, hoping no one sees me in my "pajamas". Depending on the weather I observed in that 30 seconds, I go back into my room and pull articles of clothing from my closet and drawers, pull a scarves and belts off my wall and hand-crafted jewelry off my metal tree and out of my wooden box to create the outfit of the day that best fits my mood and expresses my personality. I put my teapot on and grab a piece of fruit or a bowl of granola and almond milk. As I nestle in my couch holding my breakfast and my chai tea with a drop of honey and a half spoonful of raw sugar, I open the pages of the book whose author I am deeply in love with. I wander over the words with my eyes and attempt to let them sink past my eyes to my mind and heart. When the clock reads 8:45, I rinse my dishes, grab my bike basket and the little key hanging by the door and head downstairs. I clip my bike basket on the front and off I go for another 8 hours of lattes, smoothies, and my personal favorite... fresh produce. I work at a coffee shop/ beach market/ plant nursery/ farmers market. It's an outdoor eclectic random glorious work in progress. It fits me perfectly. My God is a good provider like that.

So my Creator has a way of igniting new passions in me every so often. I have fallen head over heels in love with the colors, textures and smells of fresh fruits and vegetables. Everyday at the market it is one of my tasks to go through every single basket, bin and bucket of the produce, piece by piece and check for bruises, spots or flaw. At first I was a bit annoyed that I spent three hours of one day inspecting 20 flats of strawberries, one by one. "Surely I have more purpose in life than this", I thought. After about the 563rd strawberry I finally listened to the voice of the Creator of these pretty little seeded red delights. I popped one in my mouth. "I made these, you know", the whisper said. "I made all of those bright sunshine, perfectly shaped lemons over there too. And do you see the leafy green glory poking out of the basket way over there? I made that too. I made it all. And I didn't have to make it this way, you know. I made these things beautiful and pleasing to your tastebuds, touch and eyes because I wanted to. I wanted you to sort these strawberries today and see my beauty, creativity and glory."

That day began a new journey for me. I can't really sit down at the dinner table over a bowl of elbow noodles covered in processed powdered cheese and really feel a connection to the Creator as I say thank you. But when I stand in my kitchen after work and saute a big pan of perfectly circular sliced bright white onions, slivers of slightly seeded green zucchini and chunks of pinkish-red potatoes, I think about the One who hand crafted them. I mean, just days ago, these pieces of His beauty were literally attached to a vine or in the ground, covered in the dirt from the earth.

This begins a new way of thinking about all sorts of things. Meat, milk, chocolate! Coffee beans for goodness sake. I know it's like the cool thing to do for twentysomethings to bring your own bag to the grocery store and shop in the Greenwise section and drink Soymilk lattes. I understand that my lifestyle of living on a beach and climbing trees and desiring a man with a beard seems like this is naturally the next step of my life. You know, going green, or what have you. But it's different. I am not out to save the planet or the whales. I am out to discover the raw beauty of the One who intended food to be so much more than what America sees it as. To explore what life would be like if there were no grease infested buildings with windows in their walls for quick attempts to feed hungry passengers. To see what happens to my skin, hair and energy when I choose to only put things in my body that God Himself made with no enhancing, enriching or preserving.

Remember the ugly duckling pieces of produce I was talking about earlier? The tomato with a speck of mold or the carrot whose end is not so snappy anymore. Well I have the honor of filling my bike basket for free every night with these "second- chance" pieces of produce and ride all the way home, dreaming up concoctions for dinner. Expect a follow up blog here and there on this new journey, some veggie recipes and how the Creator is revealing Himself to me.

Open Hands

Rock music blaring, stage lights gleaming and singers belting out their hearts to the most popular "Christian worship" music. (Since when did the words "Christian" and "worship" become adjectives, by the way?) A group of teenage girls are whispering and laughing behind me and my boyfriend is standing next to me. It is all I can do to shut my eyes for a moment and try to take my focus off the million things my culture screams at me to indulge in.

"Lord, I love you so much. It is my desire to give you every bit of me. My heart, my hopes for my future, my thoughts, my everyday living. If there is anything in my life, God, ANYTHING that doesn't bring me closer to You or help me share Your love and truth with others, I don't want it. I surrender it...."

And then the two sentences that began a life journey.

"... And... God... if there's anything that I won't willingly surrender that pulls me away from You and your purpose for me,..... take it from Me Yourself. If my fists are holding onto it tightly, Lord, pry them open and take it from me!... Even if it hurts, God."

I knew the weight of that prayer and I meant every syllable of it as a 16 year old standing in the middle of my youth group that night.

I meant it because I had the incredible honor being exposed to the Truth as a young woman. It was deeply ingrained in me that I have a God who created me and is madly in love with me. A God who saw that I had no hope on my own for a life of freedom and purpose and so He made a way for it to be a reality. I knew with every fiber of who I was that making a choice to love this God back and allow Him to lead my life would be the very best decision I would ever make in my entire life. In the most simplistic way, I reasoned that the God who made everything obviously knows the best way for His creations to live... so why wouldn't I allow Him to guide my steps and be in control?

The other morning I was in a similar setting, minus the hundreds of hormonal teenagers and rockstar singers. None of my friends from that time of my life were with me and neither was my family. I was sitting Indian- style on the floor in the back of a room here in Maui talking to the Lord as a couple of people led us into a time of worship through an acoustic guitar and a D'jembe. They began singing an incredible song by Misty Edwards titled "You Won't Relent".



You won't relent
Until You have it all
My heart is Yours

I'll set You as a seal upon my heart
As a seal upon my arm
For there is love that is as strong as death
Jealousy demanding as the grave
And many waters cannot quench this love

Come be the fire inside of me
Come be the flame upon my heart
Come be the fire inside of me
Until You and I are one

All consuming fire
You're my one desire
Living flame of love
Come baptize us, come baptize us

As I shut my eyes and listened to the lyrics, my mind was brought back to that day standing in my youth group in Tampa, FL. I could see my 16 year old heart crying out that prayer for the first time. I was then flash-forwarded to the day I was 18 years old in New York City on top of a roof. God and I talked there in specific regards to my relationship with my boyfriend of 3 years who I knew wasn't chasing His heart the way I was. My Father knew that although my limited mind could have never seen it then, moving forward with this boyfriend would be violating my prayer, and my life of freedom to pursue my Creator's heart. My mind raced from situation to situation since then that I have uttered those words in one way or another.

I also was reminded of the things in my life that have hurt me in such an unexplainable way. The nights of tears and ignorant finger-pointing at God. He spoke softly to me in that moment on the floor that these painful things are often a direct result of that very prayer that I have chosen to make the theme of my life. Thankfully, God answers my prayers and has pried my fists open more than once in my life to save me from myself.

In a year or two... or five or fifty... when I find myself in yet another moment of unreluctant abandon, I will remember back to my sweet spot on the floor in Maui when I prayed that prayer once again.

"Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for love is as strong as death,
its jealousy unyielding as the grave.
It burns like blazing fire,
like a mighty flame.
Many waters cannot quench love;
rivers cannot wash it away. "
Song of Solomon 8:6-7

...visions of banyan trees dance in my head...

I have an addiction. I could literally wake up every single morning, walk outside, climb a banyan tree and dream my day away. The branches braid themselves together and create miniature caves and magical peepholes that transform my fogged up mind into a catalyst of imagination. I love when people walk under the tree I am nestled in, completely unaware of the dreamer above their everyday conversations. Uninterrupted I envision expressions of my soul through the vehicles of paint and canvas. I clear-mindedly whisper words of devotion to The One who created my very mind which has the capacity to imagine and the very tree I am engrossed in. A beam of joy spreads across my face as my child-like heart plays hide and seek throughout the branches. I stand confidently on the end of a limb, arm held out and expectantly wait for my Tarzan to come rescue me. I shut my eyes and gaze clearly on my future. There is no room for fear of failure or reminders of past disappointments among the branches of this great dream tree.