Good Wednesday! It’s been a while since I’ve had even a moment to update you here, but today I am finally able to sit down and write a bit about something that has been on my heart to share for some time: Multiple Streams of […]
If you know me in real life, you know that I absolutely adore nut butters.
And if you’ve been in my kitchen in real life, you know that on a whole new level. I almost always have more than one type of nut or seed butter open and ready to spoon from or top with, from flavoured peanut butters to cashew, almond, and sunflower seed butter.
I also always buy nuts-only butters– ie., the only ingredient you’ll find in these jars is the nut itself. I make this decision both according to my taste buds, which are partial to the unsweetened, raw nuttiness of the one-ingredient varieties, and health reasons, as the other ingredients added to many popular nut butters not only deter their flavour in my opinion, but are usually pure junk.
So, the other day, when I realized that the almond butter I bought from my usual brand was a variety I don’t usually buy that contained palm oil and organic cane sugar in addition to almonds, I was annoyed at myself for having a bit of a freakout. I felt stupid for having made such a “careless mistake.”
Luckily, my thoughts rambled, I caught it before I’ve opened the jar. I’ll have to dig up the receipt and exchange it.
It didn’t take too long for me to stop dead in my thoughts, and question them.
Did I hate the taste of sugary almond butter? Absolutely not. It was a close second taste-wise to unsweetened almond butter. So, would a version of Cassie that had not been tainted by an eating disorder be thinking about taking a bus ride back to the grocery store to exchange sweetened almond butter with palm oil for unsweetened… or would that version of Cassie not have even noticed?
It is these kind of thoughts that I am grateful for in their opportunity to take captive and bring to Christ. If I HATED sugary almond butter, that may have been a reason to return it. But I think I can safely say that no seasoned nut-butter-lover would turn down a jar of ANY variety. So, what did I proceed to do? Grab the nearest nut-butter-dipping vehicle– on this particular day, a gala apple–, dunk a slice of it into the sugary almond butter, sprinkle-sprinkle some cinnamon and sea salt, and call it a snack well done.
Raise your hand if you were a picky eater as a kid.
(I’m raising my hand).
I was the PICKIEST of the picky. I could count the number of foods I was happy eating on both hands (well, both hands if you’ll allow me to put “Halloween candy” on one finger). I hated meats besides plan hamburgers and chicken thigh. Sandwiches were a no-go. Sweets were ALWAYS a yes, and lunch was chicken noodle soup or a Nature Valley granola bar. Bananas and apples were disgusting.
It’s funny because bananas and apples are my favourite fruits now, I’m not a fan of chicken noodle or granola bars, and I love practically every meat. I’m always so intrigued by other childhoods and ways of eating, too!
Any way, today, as I hungrily wondered to make for lunch, I thought back to childhood me, and wondered if 8-year-old Cassie might have any good ideas.
So I came up with this omelette, inspired by her, but refined for an adult (“refined,” aka vegetables).
It was REALLY YUMMY. Reminded me of childhood.
Feel free to change up the vegetables, or throw in some cheese!
I forgot how much I like ketchup and eggs– this was a real treat.
Jesus really doesn’t ask for much.
Well, yes, when we follow Him we surrender our lives from purpose for dead and meaningless, withering worldly things to the eternal purpose of Jesus’ glorification, and this may certainly be seen as “much” if we don’t know Jesus as the perfect Father, creator of the universe we were made to live for, or if we view this physical world as all there is, and death as the end rather than the beginning. But surrendering our lives is simply the way we were created to live, and when it happens, we are set free, and understand JOY AND LIFE ABUNDANT.
Recently, my reading of the Gospel of Matthew Chapter 9 caused me to dwell on just what Jesus asks of me, and how much of what comes next is just HIM.
A woman who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak. She said to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” Jesus turned and saw her. “Take heart, daughter,” he said, “your faith has healed you.” And the woman was healed at that moment.
I was urged to ask my Father in prayer for the heart of this bleeding woman. That every fibre of my being would know that one encounter with Jesus means healing.
Now, I think it would be quite easy to mistake Jesus’ words to mean that the woman’s faith, her own human strength, had the power to heal her. Rather, Jesus Himself honoured the belief that the woman had in His perfect power and ability and chose to heal her. The woman had her faith in JESUS ALONE, knowing it would take simply a moment in His presence to be healed. JESUS ALONE healed her, knowing from God the Father that the woman’s faith in the Son was right and good.
Lord, would I have the faith of the woman in Matthew 9. Would I know radically well that if I but touch You, Jesus, I will be healed. Not for my sake, Lord, but for Yours, and for the healing of others. Would my faith in who you are urge me to know you more deeply, widely, and fully every moment. To know what it is to live like You do.
If we have this radical faith, you see… the rest is done.
If we have radical faith that Jesus is who He says He is, we will live to bring Him glory. We will be healed. Worldly fears dissipate. Anger and sin and shame flea by His Holy Spirit. But we know that this is a daily step of faith, proclamation of faith, and death to self.
AND then we know that this is the only way to live.