The only piece of furniture I owned when I drove into North Carolina was a 10-seat dining room table. As I left Massachusetts, my friends prayed a blessing over my new home and all who would find nourishment at this table. I can't say this place feels like home quite yet, but there is no doubt that I'm in the place where God has called me for this time.
This past weekend, I moved out of my home for the past three years. Here in Boston, living in the same place for three full years is nothing short of miraculous. As part of saying goodbye, I sat on my kitchen floor and processed through the bittersweet transition. It's basically a love letter to my quirky little kitchen.
I took a break from my blog during Eastertide (and a little time more) both for the sake of Sabbath rest, but also to celebrate a whole bunch of weddings. I'm finally back and so eager to share the recipe that has grounded me from Easter up until now. I made this olive oil sourdough on Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and as the communion loaf for a wedding last week. It is sweet, rich, and a tender reminder of the dearness of a community that holds you near.
This Lent, I saw Christ's power take over in my weakness. I found Christ pinpointing the places where I've been lazy and need to take initiative, and the places where I'm over-committed and in need of rest. For Eastertide, I'm taking a break from my online presence. After Pentecost, I hope to return rested and ready to continue my explorations of food and faith with you all.
As we head into Holy Week, I pray that we do not fall into the temptation of following the crowd. As we hear calls to violence, attempts at military domination, I pray that we hold onto our cries of Hosanna. I pray that we eat bread and wine, body and blood shed to end the shedding of blood, remembering the humility and nonviolence of him who came to save.