
This weekend Elisa and I dropped Dishon off at camp. I was a little nervous about going, actually. It's easier to distract yourself from missing camp when you're somewhere else, doing other things that are good in their own way.
It was a little surreal being on the other side of registration day, but I was warding off the nostalgia pretty well, until we dropped him off at his cabin. The four boys who were already there jumped up in excitement when we walked in. They eagerly helped Dishon choose a top bunk by the window and all climbed up, pulling his sleeping bag and pillow up for him.
“I have an idea! You should put your head this way so you can have a nice view!” drawled one of the boys, whose face reminded me of a cartoon dinosaur (the cute kind).
As we were about to leave, I heard Dishon say he wasn’t sure if he could get down from the bunk, and his cabin mates all chimed in. “Here, let me help you!”
Oh, how I love adventure campers! They may be needy and delicate, and their angelic attitudes rarely last the whole week. They pee in the wrong places and cry a lot. But the innocence and sweetness in their hearts never fails to inspire me.
So far when I’ve missed camp, I’ve been able to console myself thinking of the many blessings in my life. I'm happy to be where I am, doing what I'm doing.
But the kids...they’re irreplaceable.

I didn’t think these were unreasonable requirements. I just wanted a clean place that I could be healthy and happy in.
I was kind of excited about house hunting at first. I thought it would be fun to choose where to live. But then I started, and realized that most of the options out there were nothing like what I was looking for.
After House #15, I was getting really stressed. I started re-evaluating my priorities. I would definitely have to give up the cat, and also probably the woods, the porch, and the fireplace. I did find one house I could imagine myself living in, but the location was no good – 20 minutes away. If I wanted to be closer, I’d have to give up some of my other Must Haves. As the end of my trip approached, compromise appeared inevitable.
But then, the night before the last day of house hunting, we found it: The Ski Chalet.
Four bedrooms.
Walking distance from Southern.
Tons of kitchen counter space.
The cheapest rent I found.
And a fireplace, a huge porch, in the middle of the woods.
There were even cool things I didn’t know I wanted, like a spiral staircase.
And I can have a CAT!
Why was I so worried about finding the right house? I should have known God already had it picked out for me.
I’ve been literally writing the paper I should be working on right now for months. I hate it. I’ll do anything to avoid it. I was just now trying to avoid it by packing for my Spring Break trip to Southern. Usually packing for Tennessee is fun, but as my “study bag” started to get fuller than my “clothes bag," my heart started to get heavier.
As I was pulling books off my shelf to pack, an old To Do list fluttered to the floor. I’m a big list maker, because I love crossing things off. Sometimes I even add things I've already done to my lists just so I have more things to cross off.
You may be able to see that only one thing was crossed off this list. But I’m sure it all got done.I have a file saved on my desktop right now entitled “March Madness.” It outlines what I need to accomplish every day in the month of March. I thought breaking the big tasks up into daily bite-sized chunks would make me feel better, but no luck. Every time I look at it, I feel nothing but despair.
This old list reminded me of my last semester of undergrad. That semester I was trying to finish writing papers for my correspondence classes by an early April deadline. Writing them was sooo painful. And I felt guilty about being so undisciplined, about how I cannot make myself choose homework over sleep, even when I have to. And I felt stressed about getting everything done, but then I felt worried because I really should have been feeling even more stressed than I was, because I was on the verge of not graduating, for crying out loud.
Did someone push the repeat button on my life? If I want to graduate again, I have lions to slay before March goes out like a lamb. If I don’t finish these papers, if I don’t study hard for Comps, if I don’t do my regular homework, if I don’t send in all the Student Missionaries' paperwork, if I don’t find a place to live…
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
- Matthew 11:28-30
While it probably won’t be fancy or extravagant, I think Jamie and Daniel’s wedding is going to be beautiful. Their love and commitment won’t be buried underneath tulle and tuxes; it’s going to be the focal point of the wedding. So they've cut out some of the things that are traditionally found in weddings.
Unfortunately, everyone has an opinion about what her wedding has to include. And even though it’s Jamie and Daniel’s day, these other people seem to think their opinion matters. And apparently one of the things that you can’t have a wedding without is cake.
Now neither the bride nor the groom particularly enjoy cake; they decided they would like to eat a dessert they actually like at their wedding. But when two of the seminary secretaries found out Jamie was not going to have cake at her wedding, they were appalled. One of them told Jamie she at least needed to have cupcakes and brought her a cupcake cookbook the next day. The other thought Jamie would start loving cake if she just tasted the right vegan frosting. So she took it upon herself to go home that night, make a batch of frosting and a cake to put it on. And she brought it to work the next morning for Jamie to sample.
Sounds considerate and thoughtful, right? Except she forgot Jamie is highly allergic to cashews. And guess what the primary ingredient in the frosting was?
Cashews.
So my poor roommate had an allergic reaction to the frosting made by a co-worker who wanted to force Jamie's wedding into a cookie cutter...or cake pan.
***
I don’t really like eating cake either, but I like baking cakes because they’re so pretty and fun to decorate. There are a few untraditional cakes that I like eating though. My favorite is medovnik, which means “honey cake” in Czech. It’s made of lots of thin honey flavored wafers interspersed with cream filling, which soaks into the layers and makes the whole thing moist and rich and delicious. And there’s no real frosting, which of course is the worst part of cake.
So Dylan is coming to visit next weekend, and he suggested we make some Czech food, possibly including a honey cake. But then I found out Elisa is coming too, and baking for Elisa is like preaching a sermon in front of Dwight Nelson or John Nixon. So I decided I should bake a practice cake before they got here.
I’ve made a honey cake once before in Prague with Emily. It didn’t look that pretty, but it was pretty tasty. Unfortunately, I lost the recipe. So I scoured the internet for recipes and picked the one that was written in the best English. Here is the finished product:
Looks pretty good, eh?
The problem is…it doesn’t taste very good. Not only is it dry, it also doesn’t have much flavor. I even tried drizzling caramel sauce on top, but it still felt like I was eating spoonfuls of flour and sweetened condensed milk. Gross.
***
What you say goes, God,
and stays, as permanent as the heavens.
Your truth never goes out of fashion;
it's as up-to-date as the earth when the sun comes up.
Your Word and truth are dependable as ever;
that's what you ordered—you set the earth going.
If your revelation hadn't delighted me so,
I would have given up when the hard times came.
But I'll never forget the advice you gave me;
you saved my life with those wise words. -Psalm 119:89-93
I tried another recipe tonight. This one was written in Czech, so I thought it might be more legit.
Oh, how I love Google Translate! Check out these gems from the recipe:
If you looked very thin, just let him rest a little longer.
Cream download sites for painting the top of the dough, but do not care!
If-because of the children you give rum flavor, be sure to put more water.
We will fight pancakes with syrup.
We will be with him, then well handled. Thus all bake cakes.
That's how prepared we can eat honey cake in 24 hours, but of course you can have longer to ripen.
The cake doesn’t look as pretty as the last one, but I think it’s going to taste better. And making it was such an adventure!
***
Lessons Learned from Cake:
1. When your opinions cause allergic reactions in others, maybe you should keep them to yourself.
2. Looking good is no good unless you taste good too.
3. Some Instructions are hard to understand, but following them is worth it.

I have a new appreciation for the idiom "it's been a roller-coaster ride."
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