Grains Glorious Grains

I love food, so maybe it's not saying much. But every once in awhile a new dish is so unique that it reminds me to savor each delectable morsel of life. Introducing:

Trader Joe's Harvest Grains Blend.

This savory blend of orzo pasta, Israeli couscous, red quinoa, and mini garbanzo beans can be eaten with chicken or shrimp, as a side, or in a salad. The first time I made it for friends, I was a little disappointed with the mushiness. I think I added too much water. The next time I made it I added less water and it was deliciously crunchy and al dente. The texture is probably the most intriguing thing about it, but the flavor is delicious, too, even with just a little salt and pepper. So far I've made it with some onion salt, pepper, basil, pine nuts, and fresh grated parmesan cheese, but I recommend throwing in your own favorite ingredients.

Sorry for those of you who don't live by a Trader Joe's. If you're really interested in trying it, email me, we'll exchange addresses, and you can send me your favorite grocery store item (Preferably dry...) in return for the harvest grains. It'd be fun!

amykopecky{at]gmail[dot]com

This is the dating game that won't ever end.

I didn't date many people before I met Jonathan. There was a guy in high school who turned out to be gay. There was a short-lived thing in college that was really more of a friendship. Besides a few random dinners and movies, the most serious relationship I had was with my now husband. And after we met, it was only a few months before we knew we'd get married.

Me and houses? Not so much.

In August, my husband and I began a wonderful relationship with a lender. We contacted our realtor in September. We set up an online profile and eagerly checked the listings everyday for a perfect match. We thought there was a possibility we'd meet "the one" by the November deadline tax-credit, so we enthusiastically set out into the ocean of young first-time homebuyers. There had to be a smallish fish in the sea that needed just our touch of TLC.

After a few months of retro kitchens, walls of wood panelling, a couple of french doors, and one scary profanity-ridden foreclosure, we thought: maybe a more realistic aim is to plan on meeting ours in the new year. Maybe we could still meet the extended April tax credit?

And that's when we found out who we were competing against.

THE INVESTORS.

Voluptuous, wealthy investors. Heavily endowed investors. Investors who decided to take advantage of vulnerable real estate instead of aiming their assets at the feeble stock market. Investors who could swing a hammer and make a few extra bucks with house makeovers. As I write, they're multiplying, parading their scantily clad loans--without shame I tell you!--in front of our houses and strategically forming brothels of house flippers.

They have cash and every asset we don't have.

Well, almost every asset.

They're missing one key ingredient:

love. (Sigh.)

We have an unlimited supply of love to pour into the one house that's out there--somewhere out there I tell you!--waiting patiently for us to meet and fall in love and spend every last penny we have on its maintenance and improvement. If only we could get married by April.

Some people are lucky with guys. Some people are lucky with jobs. Some people are lucky with houses.

But I live in California.

The Big Security Guy in the Sky

I was the nerdy one. I spent my high school and elementary school days stressing over both menial and major assignments, perfecting every last detail from the name at the top of the page to the alignment of bullet points. If I made a mistake on a piece of notebook paper in the first few lines, I'd throw it out and start a new one, just because crossed out words made the page look messy.

My perfectionism, combined with my fear of authority, landed me the accidental role of teacher's pet, which ruined my life. No one asked me if I wanted to be the teacher's pet. No one wants to be the teacher's pet. But someone somewhere decided that all teachers should prey on their favorite student, and so at some point some teacher appreciated my maddening inability to break the rules and made an example of me to the class that used to like me. And the cycle continued every year.

Social suicide. I am a victim.

To this day I still cannot break rules. I don't like to talk in the middle of a church service and I don't like to speed (more than 5 miles over) and I don't like to take carry-ons that don't fit in the airline's designated sizer-upper even though they accept baggage a lot bigger than that and even if they don't, you can check it for free at the ramp.

So you can imagine how the following situation almost had me running for solitary confinement.

Jonathan and I had friends stay with us in London over the summer in 2008. On the first day they visited, Jonathan informed me that Anne Hathaway and the actor who goes by "The Rock" (does anyone know his real name?) would be at the Apple store (where Jonathan worked) that afternoon. Jonathan was working that day. My friends and I got there late, so as we walked into the crowd--which was small considering there were two famous actors speaking--I took my camera out of the bag so I'd be prepared when we found a good angle. Just as I pulled the camera out of its case, I noticed a significant sign placed in front of the crowd. On it were written two significant words:

NO PICTURES

I immediately began to put my camera away. By immediately, I mean I really couldn't put it away fast enough for my liking... and as it turned out, for somebody else's liking, either. Someone else had noticed my camera. The big scary Apple security guys. They immediately headed in my direction. They were the biggest meanest men I've ever seen. The crowd started whispering and pointing. With palms sweating and voice trembling, I tried to explain that I had seen the sign after I had pulled out my camera, and had put it away immediately afterwards, but apparently they don't teach forgiveness at Security Guy School. They told me I would have to be escorted out.

At that moment, some of Jonathan's friends noticed the crowd disturbance. They nudged him and told him someone was getting in trouble for taking pictures. They all craned their necks and laughed until Jonathan said in disbelief, "That's my wife!" He was just as surprised as I was that I was getting in trouble for something--and something big enough for security guys.

Thankfully Jonathan vouched for me and I didn't have to leave the store. I got to listen to the actors respond in the question and answer session. For all of the trouble, I wasn't all that impressed. But at least my name was cleared and the red in my face eventually faded.

I could litter this blog with stories like that--stories that explain who I was and who I'm growing to be. I'm at a point in my life where I'm beginning to remember them and to analyze them for their deeper implications. For example, this story says interesting things about the way I see God. I've begun to realize recently that I like to follow rules in my faith life just as much as in other parts of my life. I've had to ask myself a difficult question:

Do I really love God, or do I obey because he's the big security guy in the sky?

I don't know the answer yet. But I'm thankful that Jesus has already vouched for me.

This. Is. Brilliant.

This is quite possibly the most hilarious scene ever.

Shackles

“[God] vanishes from our sight to do what He could not do if we could see Him. In the spiritual journey, I know of nothing so difficult to believe. But it’s true.

"Think of those long hours of darkness on the cross. Jesus screamed in agony, “God, where are You?” God said nothing. But it was during that exact time that God was in the Son reconciling the world to Himself.

"Imagine the comfort we would experience and the hope we would feel if we realized that during His felt absence, Jesus is working to cut the chain from our ankles, to remove the weight that keeps us from flying."

--Larry Crabb

Carol-line

This year's favorite Christmas carol line:

"The Word of God must learn to speak." (See below for Matt Osgood's "On Christmas Day")

Merry Christmas to you and yours! May you not miss the wonder of Christmas: the hope of a Savior, and the peace of eternal with Him.










On Christmas day, a humble girl
gives birth to hope for all the world,
this is Immanuel.
How awesome and mysterious,
the Lord of heaven draws near to us,
this is Immanuel.

The hands that once split night from day
now feebly clutch a blade of hay,
this is Immanuel.
Majestic king, now small and weak,
the Word of God must learn to speak,
this is Immanuel.

This is our God, seen by our eyes,
the love of the Father made known in Jesus Christ.
This is our God, worthy of praise,
the love of the Father revealed on Christmas day.

The shepherds come and bow to him,
the Lamb who takes away our sin,
this is Immanuel.
For God has entered time and space
to show the world his endless grace,
this is Immanuel.

Crossing the Pond

"It is desirable that a man be clad so simply that he can lay his hands on himself in the dark, and that he live in all respects so compactly and preparedly, that, if an enemy takes the town, he can, like the old philosopher, walk out the gate empty-handed without anxiety." Henry David Thoreau, Walden.

A long time ago I named this blog WordMarrow--partly in reference to Thoreau's "I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life..." and partly in reference to my aspirations as a writer. But a bigger reason was my desire to remind myself of the important things.

When I shut off all the noise--the TV and iPod and Facebook and etc.--it's easier to accomplish goals and remember my grander purposes. it's easy to see distractions for what they are: another jacket I don't need, a bigger house just for the sake of a bigger house, a film that i don't really want to watch but do just because it's there. When I turn the noise back on, I get bogged down like the masses of men who lead "lives of quiet desperation" and start listening to the ads telling me I need things and films promising distraction and Safari an escape.

In the luxury of twenty-first century United States of America, among other things, I think we've lost the gift of silence. With the gift of silence comes refreshment and reorientation of values. With it comes the ability to think clearly and rationally. (Is it just me or is there an increase of unreasonable people in this world?)

When I crossed my own pond (a.k.a the Atlantic Ocean) and I had more time to think than I had in a long time, I was a lot better off. I was healthier, happier, and more productive. I'm slowly getting that back, and I'm determined not to lose it as life gets busier.

Not Just Another Nativity

Just completed marathon week at our church, including a live nativity on Friday and Saturday night. With all the busyness, I didn't really take time out to think about the impact the nativity could have on the community. I take it for granted that Americans know why Christmas is celebrated, even if they don't want to personally celebrate it for the same reasons. Should it have surprised me that God exceeded my expectations?

In our "Journey to Christmas," event, visitors mingle in the refreshment room enjoying cookies and cider and hot chocolate, and then are led by a guide to witness various scenes around the church property from the Christmas story in Luke 2. At the very end, a narrator stands by Jesus' manger and explains the reason for Jesus' birth by pointing to three crosses that light up a few yards away.

Honestly, I thought visitors would see it as just another cute retelling of the Christmas story, and that it wouldn't have much emotional or intellectual impact. It was supposed to rain, so we had to hold it indoors. It was the first year our church put it on, so there were some minor glitches and a few rough artistic decisions. Like most churches, ours is limited in its number of volunteers, so we had some young actors, too.

Nevertheless, we prayed that the rain would stop for the three hours each night that visitors would witness the scenes, and we prayed that God would send the people and that his message would be heard.

It rained all day both days... but stopped for the three hours each night we performed.

Four-hundred and fifty people came, most of them new visitors, not members of the church.

And yesterday morning our Pastor shared with us stories from the guides who had led people through the various scenes. One woman admitted, "I finally understand what Christmas is all about..." and another man asked what the Cross meant.

It was a revelation to me that there are still people out there who don't know the true miracle of God becoming man. And I had to learn that God doesn't require innovative technology and professional acting to accomplish his purposes. We'll be much more successful if we just give it all to him.

Pillow Talk

I don't usually blog from bed, but just finished a fantastic book about the dangers of consumer Christianity: The Divine Commodity by Skye Jethani. A must-read. Refreshingly, it's not another how-to or new-paradigm type revival book. Instead he shares wise insights about Christians' relationships with the Church as an institution rather than people; on our attempt to aim for big-scale influence which can distract us from Jesus' example; and on our faulty reliance on our own efforts rather than the graceful work of the Spirit in our Church.

There's a lot of books out there... This one's worth your time.

Crawling Under Rocks Unnecessary

About a year ago I ran into an old friend at a conference. We exchanged pleasantries and small talk, and I explained that I had spent the last year in London getting my Masters degree in writing. When he found out that I had worked for a publishing company in London as a copyeditor, he immediately grew excited and began describing his recent book project. He took down my information and we said goodbye.

A few months later he sent me an email that explained his book project in further detail, and I responded with my rates and an explanation about my services. To my surprise, his final email summarized, rather curtly, that he was not asking for my editing services, as he was a very good writer and very capable of editing his material. He attached a sample of his writing as if to prove his point. Instead he wanted me to pass on his manuscript to the publishing company I had worked for. He ended our correspondence by attempting a few personal jabs at my life as a "freelancer."

I refrained from responding to him because I didn't think it was my place. If I had, I would have informed him that he was misinformed about the book business. I believe that most people who want to publish a book educate themselves about the process. But apparently there are still some misconceptions. So here's my advice to anyone who wants to publish a book. First, (and this pertains mainly to nonfiction) don't spend a chunk of your life writing a book that won't sell. Study the market. Is there a need for your book? Are there similar books already on shelves? How are they selling? How does your book differ? Secondly, find an agent. In most situations you cannot send unsolicited manuscripts to an editor, even if you know them. Most publishers prefer to work through an agent. Finally, every writer needs an editor. Regardless if you're a good writer or not, you will not be able to see all of the content and grammatical and typo problems because you are too engrossed in your own work. In fact, books go through multiple stages of editing because one editor is not enough.

With that said, I'll shamelessly plug my new website for my copywriting and editing services! Even if you're not a writer or don't need any marketing or PR materials, you might know someone who needs it, or could visit just for kicks. It's fun to see what friends are up to on the net these days, right? :)

Bumper Sticker Culture

I wonder if the people who put bumper stickers on their cars would be willing to put the stickers on their shirts and walk into a crowded room. What if they had to voice their opinion face to face with real people who had real responses? Or, would they want to be defined by a pithy sarcastic phrase and risk the chance of being shunned by the crowd?

Slapping an opinion on a car doesn't allow for dialogue. In fact, I wonder if blogging has the same problem? Sure people can comment. And on the road people can cut people off or demonstrate their disapproval in other ways... but are these really the best ways of expressing opinions? In the car or on the web you're insulated from the response of others: you don't see the effect of your method in the face's of the people you influence.

When Jonathan and I moved to London, I noticed the lack of bumper stickers on people's cars. Then I came back to the U.S. and I was bombarded with attitudes staring back at me on the road and I couldn't ignore it. I think we should be more careful about sharing our opinions--especially with the method.

On Self-Writing

"I didn’t make myself, I’m not taking credit for my existence, so what’s the difference between talking about myself and talking about somebody else?"

-From Donald Miller about writing memoirs. Read more here.