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Talitha Kum

November 7, 2013 / Michele Minehart

Yesterday’s activities included an afternoon workout, a meeting with a student, having a former student (now’s she’s just a friend) over for dinner with the family, and a meeting with my local food co-op. This all occurred post-3pm.

I actually went to the meetings and whatnot still in my workout clothes because I’d jammed too much in my schedule. At some point I recalled once living this way as a lifestyle – packing my hours full of points of connection, arriving grubby because I’d rather be present than miss out and be clean.

I felt fully alive.

It adds a bit of chaos when I want to spend so much time meeting with people and joining teams; for some, being gone 4 nights of the week sounds awful (and sometimes, it is). But because I enjoy the privilege of being home with my kids during the day, I don’t feel like such a jerk to leave in the evening.

In fact, I think it makes me a better mother. I love these kids to pieces, but I have to believe it gives them a healthier view of home and family to know that their mother has relationships, passions and dreams outside of cutting food and vacuuming the floor. And not just “later” dreams but “now” steps. I can’t do everything I enjoy, but I get to pick some of my favorites.

It can’t go without mentioning, however, that it takes a partnership. JJ comes home and after dinner takes on solo bath/bed routines, which can be nearly as exhausting as the rest of the day. I hope he finds his day job as fulfilling as I find my evening work.

He’s lived with me long enough to know that when I live out my calling, the whole house benefits. The same is true for him and the way he enjoys his time. We have to work together to make these priorities a reality or both of us feel stifled.

It becomes a two-fold process to find the ways in which your soul comes fully alive – first discovering your own passions and the things that get your blood pumping and making a commitment to leave the house and do it. Then to find those same things and make sure your partner enjoys the same luxury.

This is definitely an area where I married up.

Here’s to making sure my spouse can live fully alive, as well.

The lies your microwave tells you

November 6, 2013 / Michele Minehart

I’ve mentioned before that I can kick Monday in the junk. Hard. It’s my best day of the week. Fridays I limp across the 3pm finish line. Sundays I weep (inexplicably. I have no idea why). But Mondays? Listen to me ROAR. (Harness your inner Katy with me, won’t you?)

The most recent Monday included both dinner and a soup of the week, as is my custom. The soup came out wonderfully on a new recipe try (score!) and dinner left us licking the bowl. Well, maybe not “we.” But “I” at least. And the kids had seconds.

What were the magical recipes? For dinner it was Roasted Chicken & Veggies. I found the “recipe” on pinterest, but really it was chopping a bunch (8?) of red potatoes, snapping some fresh green beans, quartering an onion and peeling 4 cloves of garlic. I sloshed some olive oil on top and sprinkled with salt, pepper and rosemary. Roasted at 475 for about 30 minutes. And then I put 4 chicken thighs and 2 chicken breasts right on top and cooked it about 20 more minutes. I hardly qualify that as a “recipe”. It’s simply assembling and stirring, if you ask me.

Now, it was in the oven for about 50 minutes, so it’s not a walk-in ready dish. And I won’t forget the whole 5 minutes of chopping. But seriously, folks, this was an easier dish than a large percentage of what I see on pinterest if only because I use a hand crank can opener and I clock about an hour on all those crock pot dishes with the cream o’ soups.

But the Evil Monsanto (because that seems to be the face the hippies have given to Big Food Companies) wants you to believe that it’s just so much work to take 8 potatoes and 6 pieces of chicken out of the fridge and place it in a dish. Whew! Woe is me! We’re told it’s “easier” to combine 14 cans of pre-made something and call it dinner. Heck, even boiling pasta was more work than last night’s dinner.

The other lie, as my friend Kristy pointed out, is that it’s cheaper to eat the packaged stuff. Case in point: perhaps in the short term a $0.99 package of au gratin potatoes seems less expensive than the $3.98 I paid for 10 pounds of fresh (non-organic) Idahos. But the endless number of meals I’ll get from my motherload trumps the single serving of microwavable gratification. When purchased thoughtfully – with the help of a few sales, coupons or just watching for good timing – buying fresh or once-fresh (frozen) doesn’t have to break the bank.

I also used the afternoon to simmer a pot of White Chicken Chili, courtesy of the Pioneer Woman. The recipe was anything but hard: I simmered 4 thighs (same package as from above: cost saver!) in water for 20ish minutes (or until I remembered). I sauteed onions and garlic and then put the broth back in the pot with a whole pound of uncooked beans. Fact: one pound of beans is the same price (or less) as a can of beans, but you get 4x the amount. What’s the difference? Adding water. Seriously. I’ve been paying a company to ADD WATER to my beans for years. I’m such a sucker.

So I simmered the beans for a few hours, added the chicken and voila! Lunch for the week.

In the world of moms and those who dread the kitchen, it’s an unspoken belief that those who make really healthy meals “love to cook”. Not true. We don’t experience the luxury of enjoying the craft but rather the luxury of the time it takes to prepare dinner.

Cooking isn’t hard, it’s just time-consuming. Eating healthy and fresh isn’t expensive, it requires an investment. I spent far too many years believing I couldn’t cook and that I needed the help of my favorite middle-aisle companies in order to eat. I simply needed the time to learn, the patience to mess up, and the ability to measure water.

Now, for our evening of Mongolian Beef & Broccoli. Time to soak my rice in water to save a buck.

In Which I Am a Jesus Feminist, Too

November 5, 2013 / Michele Minehart

When my parents returned from their honeymoon, the found their friends had pranked them in every area of the house. Cornflakes in the bed. They dumped out all of my dad’s nuts and bolts and screws and nails into a big pile and then put them back into the tiny drawers all mixed up.

The removed the label from every canned good in the pantry. For months, mom would have to pull a can from the pantry and make dinner from whatever she happened to open. Sometimes, labels serve an important purpose.

Which is why I’m finally okay with living under a label. Thanks to Sarah Bessey, I’m a proud Jesus Feminist. She admittedly took two of the most divisive words in our social language and applied them to herself in a way that endorses love above all things – including gender.

I used to be scared of such a label. “Feminist” meant you hated men or bras or motherhood. But that’s so, so, so wrong. In her book, Sarah opens up the field so to understanding that we simply believe that women are people, too. It goes beyond the complimentarianism/egalitarianism debate and plants us firmly into the Kingdom of God. We believe women are people, too because Jesus did. We call out a system created for elevating the highest and stepping on the lowest because Jesus did.

My favorite part of the book was the chapter on “Reclaiming the Church Ladies.” Perhaps it’s because I’m waist deep in discovering and seeking out what a new paradigm of “women’s ministry” looks like in our current context. Perhaps it’s because I’m registered for the IF:Gathering in February. But mostly, it’s recognizing that women are seeking and hungering after God and imagine if we all worshiped and lived together in such a way that we encouraged and empowered and elevated one another to do the work in which we’ve been called.

Jesus Feminists aren’t just women who want to be pastors, though perhaps some are. Jesus Feminists are simply trying to create a world in which we, and all of our sons and daughters grow into their fullest callings, learning to treat one another with the love and kindness that Jesus taught us. We’re folks who don’t put a limit to the places in which the Spirit of God will move and live and dwell. We come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, backgrounds and beliefs, the most common of which is that we believe that women are people, too, because Jesus thought so.

I never sent mine in, I had trouble deciding on my identity. Sorry, friend!

Now, go buy the book. Tell her Michele sent you.

Michele Minehart

Page 100 of 312

Talitha Kum

The lies your microwave tells you

In Which I Am a Jesus Feminist, Too

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