For everything there is a season,

a time for everything under heaven.

Remember that post I wrote a few weeks back that was a huge purge of my heart toward God and church for the past three years? Well, I had sort of a break through across the last two or three weeks. Can a break through take that long? Well the break through happened in church Sunday night but the events leading up to it happened weeks before.

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

I was sitting in church, contemplating whether or not John and I should join the church. I was alone. I felt sick of being there alone. I hate hate hate going to church by myself when I know very few people. It makes me feel too vulnerable. All my bad feelings toward the church grow exponentially and suffocate me when I go to church alone. I knew we needed to join the church, but this anxiety was paralyzing. I prayed for some peace, and God granted me some, enough to where I could sing and take communion, but I was still anxious about talking to anyone.

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.

Then for some reason, I remember a conversation I had with a new friend. She asked me what happened. As I explained how I felt about church and why I did, her reaction made me see how silly I was being. Her reaction wasn’t scolding or judgmental. There was no reaction really. No affirmation. No condemnation. Just listening. And I started listening to myself and realizing that all these feelings were too trivial to hold onto for so long. These feelings aren’t worthy of the paralyzing power I let them have over me. As evidence in your comments on that previous post, I’m not alone. There is nothing special here. This is normal, and my pity party has been long enough. It’s unfair of me to let this past prevent me from investing in a new church and new people who have done nothing to deserve my suspicion.

A time to embrace and a time to turn away.

I still think my faith’s winter season was important and good for me. It’s helped my faith get to a stronger place, a place I really enjoy being. Like Ecclesiastes says, there is a season for everything under heaven. But to wallow in this, to try to make it last longer than it should would be unhealthy. Even though its technically fall, for my faith it is spring. I am shaking off winter and welcoming the sun.

A time to tear and a time to mend.

*The italicized bits are the pieces of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 which were the most important to me right now. I’ve used the NLV translation.

The last four years in my kitchen have been one ridiculous experiment. My senior year of college I moved out of the dorm and into a house with two other girls and a beautiful kitchen. My taste buds only tolerated lean cuisines for so long, but I was terrified of the kitchen. The most I ever helped in the kitchen growing up was making instant gravy (not the instant mashed potatoes, that was always hit or miss for me) or Christmas treats. I kicked ass at box brownies, grilled cheese and heating up a can of soup though. But I soon realized that if I ever wanted a home-cooked meal consistently for the rest of my life, I needed to learn to make it myself. So I bought a cookbook (How to Boil Water, no joke), and I started teaching myself.

Since I was starting from scratch with this whole learning to cook thing, I decided I wanted to start on the right foot by establishing a habit of healthy eating. I ate a lot of chicken. I learned how to handle cooking fish. Recently, through experience I graduated from entree only meals to coordinating side dishes, quite beautifully actually if I do say so myself. In the last 365 days I have figured out how to cook fresh vegetables in a way that doesn’t make me want to gag, and they are still good for you. Reading magazines and blogs on healthy eating has helped me put together a diet that consists mostly of lean meats, fish, a whole lot of veggies and some whole grain.That took four years to figure out.

John is slowly but surely getting on board with me. He has this habit of watching documentaries on Netflix to put himself to sleep, and his favorite documentary subject lately has been food (his favorites are Food, Inc.; Food Matters; and Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead). This has led to some crazy declarations the next day:

“No more potato chips!” says the guy who’s favorite way to relax after work isn’t drinking a beer but eating an entire can of Pringles.

“No more red meat!” says the meat and potatoes boy from Arkansas. “Okay, well maybe we’ll just cut out ground beef.”

“No more milk for me!” says the man who goes through 2-3 gallons a week on his own.

Through all these revelations and all this talk, we’ve decided to pursue a locavore diet, or as close as we can come while still living on a budget. This comes from an idea of avoiding corporate food and eating as fresh food as possible. So eating local is not a strict rule, but rather a goal. I’m not one for obsessing over these things. I would be one of those vegetarians who still eats fish, and will probably be a locavore in the Midwest eating fish. But we do want to eat local when we can.  What will this look like? Buying most of our produce, meat and bread from farmers markets, local butchers (if I can find one) and bakers. And this extends to restaurants too, supporting restaurants that get their ingredients from local sources.

Of course being in a new city and trying to navigate a new food world/culture at the same time is a lot, so if anyone out there in Kansas City has any resources for KC locavores, please share! I would love to chat.

I’ve been feeling a bit homesick for Japan lately, which is weird because it isn’t home. I don’t really have a home being a military kid. At least that’s what I tell people. When they ask me where I’m from, I reply with, “Nowhere.” It’s quirky, clever and brings upon more questions. See, I was born in Beaufort, SC, but left before I could remember it and bounced around the South until I was 5, and we returned to Beaufort. That’s where I spent my childhood, and where I guess is technically my hometown. Unfortunately, my memories from South Carolina are warm, fuzzy and nostalgic, making it seem less real than the more recent Japan, California and Missouri.

Japan is where I spent middle school and half of high school. Japan is where my memories become more solid. I can remember the good and the bad, the tribulation that was 7th grade and the hope of first love.

I’m not sure why I’m pining for Japan or if I’m pining for the place at all. Maybe I’m just missing being a Marine’s dependent. It’s always held a certain distinction for me and comes with a culture that I don’t feel connected to anymore. When I’m reminded of it I miss it terribly. But in the last few weeks things have happened that make me think of Japan and my time there.

• I wrote about a new cookie product that reminded me of these filled cookies we used to watch being made Krispy Kreme style. I got a sudden craving for the chocolate filled ones that was so strong that I was about to hop on a plane just to get me some.
• The 10th anniversary of 9/11 got me thinking about where I was, which was in Japan.
• My husband recently decided he wants our Japan vacation to happen way sooner than originally planned in the far away future. I’m not complaining except now I have to decide: Europe first or Japan?
• A friend from my time there posted pictures on Facebook from that time. Flipping through them definitely takes you back. Yay awkward middle school photos on Facebook.

I’m not depressed, just living in wistful nostalgia, but I don’t know how to shake it. I wish I could go there right now and take John on a whirlwind tour of Charlotte’s childhood memories. I want to eat some real yakisoba and ramen, go to the Chicken Shack, pet the deer at Miyajima, watch a Hiroshima Carps baseball game, ring the peace bell at Hiroshima Peace Park, visit the Tokyo fish market and walk across the Kintai bridge. But I guess dreaming and saving money will just have to do for now.

Is there a place that you long for? How do you cope when you can’t go back?

I finally got back on the horse when it came to my Summer Reading List. It may be past Labor Day, but the first day of fall hasn’t come yet, so I’m still in summertime technically. I’ve managed to finish The Help (I liked it and can’t wait to see the movie) and I Capture the Castle, which only leaves two books and four days left, so I probably won’t finish the list this year. Anyway, onto the review.

I really enjoyed I Capture the Castle. At first, the story was a little slow, so it took me a little while to get into it, but once I did, I was hooked. You don’t often read a book written entirely in first person. I think that’s because of a perception that it can be limiting not having insight into other characters’ perspectives or the omniscient perspective. I think it intimidates most writers. I’m intimidated by it, but it’s so beautiful when its done well. It’s wonderful to be able to get inside the thoughts of another person and so intimately know a character in a book.

The entire book is written as a journal from the perspective of Cassandra, the 17-year-old daughter and middle child of a one-time-best-selling writer. Her family lives in poverty in the ruins of a castle, and she is writing this journal to work on her own writing. Through the journal, you read about the family’s climb out of poverty, despair, and her father breaking through writer’s block when two rich brothers’ come into their lives.

The book is similar to a Jane Austen novel, a similarity not lost on Cassandra, who is also a fan of both Austen and the Bronte sisters. Two sisters living in poverty look to marriage to pull themselves out of their situation. Somehow Cassandra and her older sister Rose’s (who completely bugged the crap out of me) scheme to make rich Simon Cotton fall in love with Rose seems less desperate and detestable than the scheming Mrs. Bennett because we know exactly how dire their financial situation is. The girls and their family have resorted to being financially supported by their servant boy Stephen. At one point Cassandra goes swimming with Simon’s younger brother Neil and realizes they don’t even have a towel to spare for a guest. They struggle to put together a meal to feed their six-person household.

The book is full of crazy love triangles between Cassandra, Simon, Rose, Neil and Stephen without the book feeling melodramatic and ridiculous. There’s plenty of unrequited love, first love and true love all seen through the eyes of a “consciously naive” girl. I’m not sure how I feel about how the couples finally shook out. I was a huge fan of Neil and Stephen. I even liked Simon, and I loved Cassandra. Rose was aggravating with her moodiness. I think its because I had such an intimate knowledge of Cassandra that everything Rose did just seemed silly even though she’s four years older. I see why the couples work the way they do. They all make sense on paper. I guess I just got caught up in the heartbreak of those who got left behind and blindsided by who eloped together. I was pleased with how the book ended for the Cassandra, open and hopeful. But I love open, hopeful endings.

Dodie Smith writes beautifully. She also wrote 101 Dalmatians, which I read for accelerated reader when I was in school. I remember her description and history of Cruella deVille terrified me so much more than Glenn Close or the animated version.

Have you read I Capture the Castle? What did you think of the ending? Sorry for the vagueness, but I don’t want to give away the couple shake out for anyone who wants to read it.

Update: I watched the movie, and I have to say, it’s a good adaptation of the book. Rose was a more sympathetic character, but I don’t feel like they strayed from the book either. I was happier about the way the couples shook out watching the romances develop, but that might have been because I knew what was coming, and I could look for clues. The ending was more sad and less hopeful even though, again, they stuck pretty true to the book’s endings. I think just watching the actors made the whole ending more melancholy for Cassandra. I highly suggest watching the movie after the book.