Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Glory, Winter, and Thoughts on Turnips

On Mondays, I work at the courthouse, which is two blocks away from our house.  Needless to say, I walk to work, especially since parking on our city square is limited to two hours, and the city employee who marks tires also writes tickets with unflagging enthusiasm.  

If you were to walk home with me, you would see the set of a small, rural town - cracked sidewalks, weeds growing in the line where the curb meets asphalt, power lines dipping to and fro across the street, low-slung cement block buildings where cars are sold and restaurants operated.  The empty cavern of the old Hallmark building yawns through plate glass windows.  The tan apartments wear black doors and one lonely white door on the end, as though someone never got around to painting it.

Last night, on my way home at 5:00, the center of the western sky was a flaming circle, smudged out from the horizon in gradations of yellow and orange.  It was glowing above streets I would not always call beautiful.  Blazing light and hope over things the hands of men have laid and built.  

Just a sunset.  But, in that moment, a message so bold.  The glory of God is everywhere.  This world decaying and fading isn't beyond His reach.  No, it's very much still His, every inch of it.  His light busts through the seams of heaven and onto the blue canvas of our dusk, and He says,

This world is mine yet.  

*  *  *

Today, the temperatures dropped into the 30s, and anyone who mentions the weather will inevitably say, "Did you know they're calling for snow on Saturday?"  It feels like blustery winter blew in today and is not going to leave for a long time.  I miss the fireplace from our old house so much this year.  I can't figure out how our current house, built in 1928, doesn't have a fireplace.  My daydreams often wander to lovely brick chimneys with wood-burning inserts.  

But, meanwhile, Anna and I layer up with boot socks and cardigans.  I am teaching her to love the cardigan from an early age.  It seems only right.  

Cardigans and food just might be my coping mechanisms for a winter with no fireplace.  I baked lemon blackberry scones this morning (if you try them, only bake for 15 minutes).  

I'm making acorn squash curry tonight, and for our life group which comes over at 7, an apple gallette.  With the last little bit of the pumpkin spice candle sputtering, we'll make the most of this winter gig.  
*  *  *

Turnips.  They were more of a garden experiment than anything.  Aaron was perplexed when I showed him the seed packet.   I was a little perplexed too, to be perfectly honest.  But who can plum the mysteries of the gardener's heart?  I just wanted to plant turnips.  They did AMAZING.  We have more than we could eat or freeze.  So far, I've offered them to a couple friends with no success, and this is what I want to know...why are turnips scorned?  They're pretty and when you roast them with olive oil, they're awfully tasty.   

So what do you say, are we going to bring turnips back? 


  1. Okay, obviously I need to make some scones today!

    1. Obviously! :) Especially obvious because you live in London!