Author Intrusion

church in the park

Lisa and Clinton wanted our community to have church at Duncan Park this past Sunday evening to celebrate their wedding anniversary.  They were married in that same park two years ago.  They promised some bbq if we all brought sides. And we brought some sides!

Duncan Park sits between Fifth and Sixth Streets inbetween Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd. and Broadway. Suffice it to say, not too many people from the county come play in Duncan Park.  But it's a beautiful park. A nice playground, open ground, an activities center, off street parking, even an old iron gate at the corner.

We set up our lawnchairs, laid out the food, and set to business. It wasn't long before some of the neighborhood kids showed up, and it wasn't long before Gwynnie and Jake were playing like crazy. Those two are really great at making friends. I wasn't like that at all when I was a kid! Tracy brought a craft for the kids and three beautiful cakes decorated with white icing and real purple and yellow pansies.

We all ate cake and drank tea. I got to feed a little two year old girl name Mira (LaMira) who wouldn't say a word to me.  Every time I asked if she wanted another bite, she shook her head "no" and opened her mouth yes. Near the end of the slice of cake I finally got a smile.  Her mother and grandmother came over and had some bbq and cake as well.

Meanwhile, somebody brought a cornhole game (never heard of it until we moved to Kentucky--hate that name) and that was going great guns. Frisbee over on one half of the lawn and a soccer game on the other half.  Lots of laughing and yelling and eating.

Yeah, it was church. It was really, really church.

We thought it was church so much we've decided to do it the first Sunday of every month through September. One of the advantages of being in a small faith community is that you don't have to move heaven and earth to serve God. You just show up at the park with some food, and watch Him move before your eyes.

cake photo

bbq pork loin, the kentucky derby, a rainstorm and a chicken

Last week, our friends Jody, Ryan and Asher Koch (all four weeks and nine pounds of him), invited us to head on out to Little Rock, Kentucky where a pig bbq was scheduled for Saturday night. The fire department was raising money to by a new engine.

Jake, Will and I set out amid some crazy down rain (Gwyn had one of her famous migraines and Ty volunteered to stay home while she slept--what a saint that kid can be!) and we drove north out of Lexington, through Paris, and another ten minutes or so into the country. It's funny how Kentucky gets such a bad rap for being this hick state, but traveling through horse farm country can made a middle-class suburbs born and bred gal like me realize just how humble her roots really are in comparison!

Having followed Ryan and Jody, we arrived as the sun began to spangle the fields afresh and the cookers were fired up, exhaling the perfume of roasted pork and, oh, Lord have mercy, is there much better than that? Five bucks for all you can eat and really, that tenderloin melted in your mouth. A big pot of beans gave up some fabulous eating, as well as a table filled with homemade desserts. Derby pie, brownies, all manner of cream pies and dessert bars. I was back at a pot luck supper and it was a most fortunate day!

yesterday at horizon

I had the privilege of speaking to two women's book clubs from Horizon Community Church in Cincinnati. One at lunch and one at dinner.  Something magical happens over food.  I don't know what it is. And if it's yummy, so much the better.

Thanks for hosting me, lovely ladies. And thanks for reading Quaker Summer. I had a great time meeting you and sharing with you. I pray that, through you, the Kingdom of God will expand.

I pray that for all of us.

IHOP: Free Pancakes!

Link: IHOP.

I'm utterly serious, folks! Check it out!

HT: Shanna

and how would you like that?

Straight Up, please. Releases today!

From Publishers Weekly

Georgia Ella Bishop's life screams "wasted potential." The daughter of a great jazz pianist and a famous news correspondent, she has what it takes to combine her mother's talent and her father's celebrity into one extraordinary life. Her alcoholism, however, thwarts these ambitions even before she can imagine them, and by the time she reaches her mid-30s, all of her chances seem to be used up. When Georgia moves from Baltimore to Lexington, Ky., to make one last attempt to straighten out her life, her social justice–obsessed uncle, her fashion-obsessed cousin and her loving but estranged husband are there to help. Samson, author of the Christy Award–winning Songbird and several other faith-based novels, pulls few punches in this sobering yet sanguine account of God's patience, mercy and eternal optimism in the face of human folly. Samson's writing is characteristically crisp and vibrant—cutting quickly to the heart of her characters and their crises with prose that is emotionally resonant but rarely sentimental. Readers may find events in Georgia's life, particularly her astoundingly bad choices and the surprising consequences she experiences, hard to believe. Still, despite the extremes to which Georgia goes, in Samson's capable hands she becomes an everywoman in whom readers are likely to see at least a glimpse of themselves. (Sept. 19)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

Lisa here: Ever know someone who just never seems to learn, despite consequence after consequence? I wanted to write a book with a character like that. And how does God feel about them? What does that kind of grace actually look like?

Of course, you'll find the gaggle of eccentrics and lots of good food. A homespun, earthy faith is prevalent and questions abound. Hopefully God shows up in a way you've never quite seen before.

peace,

lisa

FoodRoutes - Where Does Your Food Come From?

Link: FoodRoutes - Where Does Your Food Come From?.

As family and a faith community we're seeking to eat responsibly and healthily. If you researched factory farms, you'd never buy meat from the grocery store again. (I'd encourage you to do so.) Even foods labeled as organic don't have to adhere to a high standard at all. According to FDA standards, chocolate covered Twinkies would be considered organic. (I just read or heard that somewhere and have no idea where! Sorry. This is blog, not a news source!)

Our housemates, Jody and Ryan, planted a beautiful garden which I've blogged on before, we've gone in on a share from a local organic farmer, getting in fresh veggies each week from right here in KY. We know who grew it, who picked it, and who brought it to our table. Will just joined in The Sustainable Community Network here in Lexington, a group of people working to ensure that Lexington has a sustainable level of resources to carry it into the future.

If you're looking for sustainable farmers in your area, or food coops, restaurants who adhere to a stricter, more healthful standard, try this site. It's got a very cool map for you to find these resources for your family.

I don't know about you, but I'm done with eating a bunch of crap, getting tired and depressed and wondering why I'm not more effective for the Kingdom.  And isn't it nice to support farmers and folks in your community who are trying to grow and offer honest-to-goodness good food? While I never think we should be overly-obsessed about our bodies in that it takes time away from serving God and being with our families, I thinking making sure we're not poisoning ourselves is always a good idea!

lisa, who's not above the occasional donut, however!<g>

sunday dinner

I love the idea of Sunday Dinner.   One of the best movies that portray Sunday Dinner at its pinnacle is Soul Food.  Now I hope that one day, like Big Mama (Irma P. Hall), I'll have children and grandchildren congregate at our house on Sunday afternoon for a big dinner.  When Big Mama pulls that macaroni and cheese out of the oven and drops that breaded whiting into the grease, I swear I wish I could just run through the screen and into her kitchen.

Lately I've been thinking a lot about food and faith, and how the two are so inextricably intertwined.  When I was a kid we had our own Sunday rituals, slightly altering from time to time.  For a long time my mother awakened my sister and I early, we breakfasted at the I-Hop and still got to church in time for Sunday School.  At one point, we always stopped at the Italian Deli on Harford Rd. for cappicola ham, provolone cheese, or hard salami, fresh, crusty hard rolls, and maybe some antipasto filled with cheese and salami, pepperoncini, olives, tomato, and perhaps whatever the cook had around.  Sometimes she bought frozen Gnocci which she'd drop into boiling water.  We'd eat them with liberal amounts of butter and parmesan cheese.

But a big Sunday dinner?  Not really.  I keep thinking a slow roast would be the way to do this and still preserve a day of rest.  And the smell around the house when you walk in the door from church?  Gorgeous.

How about you?  What were your Sunday rituals growing up?  And have you created any of your own?  I'd love to hear about them as we're seeking to create rituals of our own.

pax Christi,

lisa