Slowly

The rain is pounding on the roof as I type. It’s the kind of slow, steady rain that lulls you to sleep and makes you feel like there is no alarm in the morning. Summertime is creeping by and I feel like I can almost hear whispers of the next season. I won’t say it, because it seems when I talk about months passing by quickly people get antsy and anxious. But it does feel like _ _ _ _ is coming very quickly, and I can hardly contain my excitement.

Today was rough. No, today was an overload of anxiety and worry – which was an abrupt change to my normal day-to-day. I’m not going to go into the causes of those two symptoms, because they simply aren’t the focus of this post.

After work on Mondays I normally drive over to the gym for an hour and a half of sweating. Not feeling like cooping myself up in a cold concrete room with BO hanging in the air, I drove home, picked up my dogs, and went for a hike. I decided the sunshine and sweet summer air were a better choice. I parked at the foot of Kennesaw Mountain and got my overly excited pups on leashes. As we began the journey, a calming presence followed. My shoulders relaxed, my pace slowed, and I began to enjoy my surroundings.

The trail was wide and dirt covered. The tall trees stretched way up into the sky, and hung over the hikers like a protective arch. I felt like I was walking deeper into a mystery, a sweet and slow mystery that wasn’t at all scary.

I stopped every so often to sit on a bench or a rock and pray. I brought my tiny travel Bible, and I would read it often and let the words soak in like air, like life. The evening seemed to stretch out like molasses dripping off a toothpick. Two tiny fauns grazed literally 20 feet in front of me, sweetly and without a care in the world. The night was perfect, and I was beginning to feel at ease again.

Tonight reminded me that God created the trees and his creativity brought forth the mountains. It reminded me that days come and go just like seasons, and burdens are meant to be lifted off our shoulders. Soon the crackle of a fire will replace the splashes of children in a pool and we will crave hot cider over iced sweet tea. Honestly I’m ready for that time. But I can wait for now, listen to the rain, and think about how big and brooding the trees were tonight. For now. 

Cool Drinks and Summer Nights

I worked with a pastor in the Dominican Republic who was probably the kindest man I have ever known. He had the biggest and broadest white smile, with a cheery heart to match. One evening, a couple teammates and I walked over to his house with a guitar and sheet music in hand. We were planning on running through some songs for the kids’ service.

Manuel lived in a beautiful Dominican house about two blocks away from where we were staying, and it ways a great night for a walk. Manuel and his wife Patricia welcomed us into their home. We chatted and sauntered out on the back porch where we made ourselves comfortable on the chairs and white fence.

Manuel had a mischievous look on his face. As soon as we were comfortable and had run through a few songs, Manuel’s wife brought out a tray of ice-cold orange liquid.

She had made us homemade mango milkshakes, complete with buttered toast to dip them in. I know it sounds odd, but the shake tasted like a thick, juicy marmalade on deep-dish buttered toast. It was actually a very sweet combination to the palette.

He set down two HUGE pitchers in front of us and said, “I am the Pastor and in charge of this house, so I say you have to drink it all!” Needless to say, we didn't have any trouble finishing the sweet refreshment.

This is a simple recipe I’ve wanted to share and I thought it would be a perfect first food travels post. Here is the recipe:

Peel, cut and blend several fresh mangos in a mixer.

Add about a cup of creamy milk

Add about 3/4 cup sugar

Add about one part ice

Bend until thick and creamy

Try it with thick sourdough bread, toasted and buttered. Great for summer nights!