Thanksgiving for Integration

Dearest Readers,
Please forgive me for so rudely abandoning you for the last two weeks.  I promise I'm not mad at you.  I hope you are not now mad at me...

I was in the midst of composing a post about the underside of in-between times, but then over the last couple weeks I ended up getting to spend lots of great time with several interesting people whom I love.

So, instead of depressed musings, here is a short reflection on the wisdom of creation - namely, the interconnectedness of our beings.

I have had my moments of discouragement this summer, with their varying levels of intensity and duration.  One's experience of in-between times depends a lot on the perspective we have at the moment.  For example, when I think of this time as an opportunity for reflection and to transition from the input of school to the output of work, my outlook is fairly positive. On the other hand, when I emphasize to myself the fact that I'm in my mid-twenty's, unemployed, and living with my parents, my outlook is not so positive.  Sometimes I am able to choose which perspective I take, and other times it seems more like it chooses me.

Anyway, I was in the midst of a more extended period of not-so-positive-ness when several people's schedules converged to line me up with multiple reunions with friends.  I will tell you right now, that was exactly what the doctor ordered... or would have ordered if I had gone to see her.  Speaking of which, I should probably try to do that one last time before my insurance runs out...

This fantastic picture from 2008 contains several of the people I got to see recently.

Everyone needs friends.  They're good for the soul.

I speak mainly from my own emotional experiences, but as I challenged myself to think more deeply about this claim, I have confirmed that this fact is compatible with my scientific research and reasoning as well as my theological convictions.  In the following I will attempt to highlight my most significant observations:

Communion: The Other Side of the Elements

Today I got to assist with Communion at my home congregation!

Before anyone gets too worried, I checked the Book of Order and it's apparently fine for a non-ordained member to assist with or serve Communion (we're not talking Words of Institution here) as long as they have the approval of Session.  I checked in with our pastor, George Dakin, and he assured me he'd run it by them and make sure everything was official. (Anyone who wants to check my polity please see W-3.3616d)

While today was not the first time I had assisted with Communion, it was the first time for me to do so for my home congregation.  For that matter, it was my first time to do so in a church setting; the other times prior to this were in the Princeton Theological Seminary (PTS) Chapel services (same polity situation as above).  It was really neat to have my supporting congregation/community acknowledge their awareness of where I am at on this journey and express their continuing support in this way.  It was also neat for me to have an opportunity to serve them as well.

Chocolate Decadence

It was my mother's birthday a few days ago, which was a perfect reason to explore new dessert options.

My brother introduced me to the Epicurious app, which I think is great.  It has a variety of helpful search options, and my favorite part, it usually has pictures.

My mom loves chocolate.  (I do too, though I didn't used to - I've since acquired that stereotypically female trait.)  So chocolate was a given.  We also had a bunch of raspberries (probably more on this in another post).  Chocolate and raspberries go well together, so the raspberries were in too.  Of the options Epicurious presented, the Chocolate Decadence was most intriguing.  Seriously, how could I pass up on a name like that?!  But the recipe looked interesting too, and like it had a chance to live up to its name.

This is also a flour-less recipe for my friends who are gluten free, though that's not an issue in my family, as I'm sure upcoming posts will make quite obvious.