Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Oatmeal, Coffee, and Psalm 107

There you go.

The secret to a slam bang morning.

You're welcome. I like to share my secrets.

You may remember this post, where I bashed oatmeal. I officially revoke my unkind words about the nutritious, heart-healthy grain. Turns out I wasn't using the right proportions, which was causing my oatmeal to resemble the work of a preschool artist who uses way too much glue. Yummy, right? Well, after a quick read of the box and a commitment to memory of the 1:2 ratio, I am back on the bus with oatmeal.

Here are some tricks for oatmeal you should know about.

-Read the box. I mentioned this already.
-Add raisins.
-Douse with a stream of 2% or whole milk after cooking.
-Peanut butter is really tasty on top of oatmeal. (I learned this trick from a friend in college. I'm not sure if the picture appeals to you or grosses you out. Regardless, give it the ol' college try yourself.)

Oatmeal is always better with coffee. I often wish that I had a little kitchen gnome that made my coffee seconds before I stumbled into the kitchen, and there it would sit, piping hot and aromatic, not a minute too old. Sometimes I try making it the night before, and 8 hours later, I think that was a great idea. In the clear thought of mid-morning, however, I stand convinced a gnome is the very best idea.

Now I find myself in the tricky position of trying to transition from gnomes to the Psalms.

I am amazed this morning by the faithfulness of God.

I went for an early walk before oatmeal, coffee, or any of these crazy mind trails (gnomes?). The sky looked like this.

10 hours of sleep is a balm to many troubles, and waking to white cookie clouds iced with golden light is joy for the day.

I walk around the block, and the world is mostly sleeping, slowly waking. Cars with school kids roll past, a truck with a farmer on his way to MFA. Tree branches hang hopeful with the first thrusts of new life, tulip shoots creep to five inches and build toward bud.

God is in the spring.

With this walking song, I return to the couch, open Psalm 107. God is in everything. I read it and remember my own wanderings, my own prisons, my own afflictions, and my own stormy seas. It's not the best hermeneutics, I'm sure, but it is the heart melting under the heat of the logos. I see my unfaithfulness in the light of His faithfulness, and I am




The heart of man is prone to wander, but the heart of God is not. Eternal, unchanging, unshaken. There is no one like our God, who is magnified even by the wretchedness of man.

"Whoever is wise, let him heed these things and consider the great love of the Lord." -Psalm 107:43


  1. wow...this post was especially beautiful. the wording almost made me shiver. Do you ever read aholyexperience? I think you and Ann (the author) might be long lost sisters:) But you already have an awesome sister. so nevermind.

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