| ISSUE 11 // NOVEMBER 2021 . by the sea . We recently returned from a holiday by the sea. It was the first time in four years we've been able to get off the farm as a whole family to rest and relax together. My parents were able to join us part way through and it was truly glorious to see them again after so many months apart. I cannot describe the joy I felt to sit beside my mum on the warm sand, to feel her arms hugging me. I brought a copy of "Gift from the Sea" with me. It had been years since I last read it and so became the perfect book companion as I listened to the waves in bed at night. Anne Morrow Lindbergh's thoughtful words around shells, womanhood, mothering, faith and being alive, are best savoured slowly. She writes: “The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.” By the sea I delight in the variety of seaweed that could be discovered, washed up and enmeshed to rock pools in low tides. The boys help me collect shells - red abalone, scallop, urchin, limpet, cockle, whelk. I carefully clean and arrange them in a platter on the table for all to see. I hold the largest shell to my ear and hear faint echos of waves rumbling. I know it's really the shell's wondrous ability to amplify ambient sound - to take what our naked ears are deaf to and swirl them around and around until we hear something faint and familiar. Yet holding a shell to my ear reminds me of listening to God's voice. That still, small voice, so easily drowned out in the clamour and busyness of everyday life. Its always there of course, when I slow down and lean in close enough to hear it. To catch whispers of truth, spoken continuously, swirling around and around, I love you with an everlasting love. Each night of our holiday I go for a walk by myself while it's still light. I begin by exploring the sleepy back streets of the town, flanked with coastal teatree, banksia, flowering gum and bottlebrush. I pass so many grand, silent beach houses, and every so often glimpse the tangle of orange nasturtiums and wattlebirds chattering. I like to walk through the cemetery and read the names of people passed, before cutting down to the ocean and walking along the sea path. Each day a new seascape embraces me - gentle, foaming or thrashing waves, clear or hazy skies, wind whipping my hair, stillness around my feet. I breathe in that salty air deeply, and feel it refreshing everything. In the day I can sit on the sand with my back against the seawall and watch my sons playing in the waves. Their bodies diving, skipping, floating, frolicking, riding, exploring the sea as it meets the shore. "This is the best time of my life!" my six year old cries. Sometimes I wade into the water with them, feeling the cold prickle my skin, toes sinking into the sand. When I finally push my whole body under, I feel giddy with happiness, with salt water immersion. I think of how I was baptised in the ocean when I was nineteen, but that's a story for another day. Salt. We sprinkle it liberally over fresh squid and scallops we bought from the fishmonger. We taste it on our skin, in our blood when we cut our fingers. We need it. To be alive and well. To soak our wounds. To bring the flavour out. For preserving. For flourishing. Jesus said his followers were to be like the salt of the earth - that they had the ability, or the gift really, to bring life and nourishment into community and creation. When I picture him speaking, I imagine tiny earthen clay bowls at the table filled with flakes of sea salt, and hungry fingers pinching off and sprinkling it over fish and olives and tomatoes and bread. Salt of the earth. It is a delicious and encouraging invitation. With Advent now upon us, I wonder how we can be like salt this season. How can we hold space for others to flourish and relationships to heal? How can we share love and joy at our tables, in our homes, communities, conversations with strangers? Can we be bold enough to say no to excessive busyness, to believe that less is better and that our presence matters more than perfection. Can we choose kindness over pretense, to say: I have all the gifts I need in Him. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you." John 14:27 . To CoNTEMPLATE . Read To The Sea by Philip Larkin. Listen to the inside of a seashell if you can find one, close your eyes, and catch those tiny reverberations of sound. Contemplate the words of Proverbs 2:2 "Tune your ear to wisdom, apply your heart to understanding". You might like to print a copy of this colouring in page I drew in response to it, and meditate as you colour it in on how we might tune our ears to the wisdom of God's voice and leading. Consider these words of Anne Morrow Lindberg in her book, Gift from the Sea : “I am very fond of the oyster shell. It is humble and awkward and ugly. It is slate-colored and unsymmetrical. Its form is not primarily beautiful but functional. I make fun of its knobbiness. Sometimes I resent its burdens and excrescences. But its tireless adaptability and tenacity draw my astonished admiration and sometimes even my tears. And it is comfortable in its familiarity, its homeliness, like old garden gloves when have molded themselves perfectly to the shape of the hand. I do not like to put it down. I will not want to leave it.” . from the recipe book . Mango, Avocado + Prawn Salad Growing up this prawn, avocado and mango salad was prepared and savoured with delight on Christmas Day, a family favourite. It is perfectly light, summery, sweet and colourful. Completely luxurious. We make it every year and I feel like a small child again. . 3 ripe avocadoes 3 ripe mangoes 1kg freshly cooked prawns 1 red capsicum small head of iceberg lettuce handful each of fresh dill, chives and coriander ---- for the dressing: juice of 1 lemon 2 teaspoons seeded mustard 1 teaspoon runny honey 1/4 cup olive oil salt and pepper to taste Cut avocado in half and remove the seed, carefully score cubes into each avocado half and scoop out of shell into a large bowl or platter. Repeat with remaining avocados. Cut the two "cheeks" off each side of the mangoes and do the same scoring action as the avocado - making small cubes that you can scoop or cut out of the mango when you push the flesh away from the skin. Prepare cooked prawns by removing shells, heads and devaining them. Add prawns to the bowl. Slice capsicum into very thin slices and add to the bowl along with finely shredded iceberg lettuce. Next chop fresh herbs and add to the bowl. Place dressing ingredients in a small jar and shake vigorously to combine. Toss through salad and serve immediately. Zimtsternes: Cinnamon Stars I love to make are these cinnamon stars or “zimtsternes" as they are called in German. These are especially lovely with the addition of citrus zest and juice and ground cinnamon. Delicate, fragrant and spicy. They are often covered with white royal icing or meringue but I prefer them adorned simply with a thin brushing of egg white and a sprinkle of raw sugar... You will need: 250 grams or 2 cups ground almond meal 1 pinch sea salt 2 tablespoons rice flour + 2 tablespoons tapioca starch OR 4 tablespoons of GF plain flour 1 cup crystallised or raw sugar 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon 2 tablespoons lemon or orange zest 2 tablespoons lemon or orange juice 2 fresh egg whites, beaten until frothy ----- 1 egg white, beaten and frothy, for brushing on top Mix dry ingredients in a bowl. In a separate bowl beat egg whites until frothy but not stiff. Add egg whites to dry ingredients and mix. Next stir in citrus zest and juice. Using clean hands knead dough into a ball. On a lightly floured surface (lightly sprinkled with crystallised sugar too) roll out dough to 1cm thickness and cut into desired shapes. Arrange cookies on trays lined with baking paper and air dry for 2-4 if possible before baking (I have skipped this step many times before and they have worked out fine). Preheat oven to 180'c, brush cookies with egg white and bake cookies for 10 - 15 minutes, careful not to brown them - they will harden as they cool. Store in an airtight container for up to a month. (Find more gluten free Christmas sweet recipes here ) I am delighted to be taking part in the 2022 Faith & The Arts Festival early next year. It will be held online so it means anyone can join in from around the country (and indeed the world). I will be facilitating a 4-day afternoon elective called "Savour the Seasons" which will guide you through times of contemplation, creative reflection, journalling and movement. There are still places left! Visit the FATA website here for more info. Last year I created a workbook with my local church for those wanting to explore the beauty of Advent at home. This PDF workbook contains reflections, scriptures, poems, activities and recipes for the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day along the themes of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. It is free to download. Download The Exploring Advent Workbook . On the blog . Eight years Farming The grower of trees, the gardener, the man... Read More cake and flowers November has... Read More ( A blessing for Christmas ) May all God wants to bless you with come to be, and may your inner mangers, fresh with hope, hold wonders of His love, and splendors of His world, and wisdoms of His word May peace surround you, behind and before you, your words and work, your hearth and kin, and all the friends you haven't seen, in your heart speak: the prince of peace And as the trees of the field clap their hands, may you sing joy - marvel in the clouds bees and sprouting seeds full plates and grubby chins, jolly abandon for all begins with love Missed issue 9? Click here to read |
ISSUE 11 // NOVEMBER 2021 | |
|
|
We recently returned from a holiday by the sea. It was the first time in four years we've been able to get off the farm as a whole family to rest and relax together. My parents were able to join us part way through and it was truly glorious to see them again after so many months apart. I cannot describe the joy I felt to sit beside my mum on the warm sand, to feel her arms hugging me.
I brought a copy of "Gift from the Sea" with me. It had been years since I last read it and so became the perfect book companion as I listened to the waves in bed at night. Anne Morrow Lindbergh's thoughtful words around shells, womanhood, mothering, faith and being alive, are best savoured slowly. She writes:
“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. To dig for treasures shows not only impatience and greed, but lack of faith. Patience, patience, patience, is what the sea teaches. Patience and faith. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach—waiting for a gift from the sea.”
By the sea I delight in the variety of seaweed that could be discovered, washed up and enmeshed to rock pools in low tides. The boys help me collect shells - red abalone, scallop, urchin, limpet, cockle, whelk. I carefully clean and arrange them in a platter on the table for all to see. I hold the largest shell to my ear and hear faint echos of waves rumbling. I know it's really the shell's wondrous ability to amplify ambient sound - to take what our naked ears are deaf to and swirl them around and around until we hear something faint and familiar. Yet holding a shell to my ear reminds me of listening to God's voice. That still, small voice, so easily drowned out in the clamour and busyness of everyday life. Its always there of course, when I slow down and lean in close enough to hear it. To catch whispers of truth, spoken continuously, swirling around and around, I love you with an everlasting love.
Each night of our holiday I go for a walk by myself while it's still light. I begin by exploring the sleepy back streets of the town, flanked with coastal teatree, banksia, flowering gum and bottlebrush. I pass so many grand, silent beach houses, and every so often glimpse the tangle of orange nasturtiums and wattlebirds chattering. I like to walk through the cemetery and read the names of people passed, before cutting down to the ocean and walking along the sea path. Each day a new seascape embraces me - gentle, foaming or thrashing waves, clear or hazy skies, wind whipping my hair, stillness around my feet. I breathe in that salty air deeply, and feel it refreshing everything.
In the day I can sit on the sand with my back against the seawall and watch my sons playing in the waves. Their bodies diving, skipping, floating, frolicking, riding, exploring the sea as it meets the shore. "This is the best time of my life!" my six year old cries. Sometimes I wade into the water with them, feeling the cold prickle my skin, toes sinking into the sand. When I finally push my whole body under, I feel giddy with happiness, with salt water immersion. I think of how I was baptised in the ocean when I was nineteen, but that's a story for another day.
Salt. We sprinkle it liberally over fresh squid and scallops we bought from the fishmonger. We taste it on our skin, in our blood when we cut our fingers. We need it. To be alive and well. To soak our wounds. To bring the flavour out. For preserving. For flourishing. Jesus said his followers were to be like the salt of the earth - that they had the ability, or the gift really, to bring life and nourishment into community and creation. When I picture him speaking, I imagine tiny earthen clay bowls at the table filled with flakes of sea salt, and hungry fingers pinching off and sprinkling it over fish and olives and tomatoes and bread. Salt of the earth. It is a delicious and encouraging invitation.
With Advent now upon us, I wonder how we can be like salt this season. How can we hold space for others to flourish and relationships to heal? How can we share love and joy at our tables, in our homes, communities, conversations with strangers? Can we be bold enough to say no to excessive busyness, to believe that less is better and that our presence matters more than perfection. Can we choose kindness over pretense, to say: I have all the gifts I need in Him.
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you." John 14:27 | |
|
|
Read To The Sea by Philip Larkin.
Listen to the inside of a seashell if you can find one, close your eyes, and catch those tiny reverberations of sound.
Contemplate the words of Proverbs 2:2 "Tune your ear to wisdom, apply your heart to understanding". You might like to print a copy of this colouring in page I drew in response to it, and meditate as you colour it in on how we might tune our ears to the wisdom of God's voice and leading.
Consider these words of Anne Morrow Lindberg in her book, Gift from the Sea:
“I am very fond of the oyster shell. It is humble and awkward and ugly. It is slate-colored and unsymmetrical. Its form is not primarily beautiful but functional. I make fun of its knobbiness. Sometimes I resent its burdens and excrescences. But its tireless adaptability and tenacity draw my astonished admiration and sometimes even my tears. And it is comfortable in its familiarity, its homeliness, like old garden gloves when have molded themselves perfectly to the shape of the hand. I do not like to put it down. I will not want to leave it.” | |
|
|
 | Mango, Avocado + Prawn Salad
Growing up this prawn, avocado and mango salad was prepared and savoured with delight on Christmas Day, a family favourite. It is perfectly light, summery, sweet and colourful. Completely luxurious. We make it every year and I feel like a small child again. .
3 ripe avocadoes
3 ripe mangoes
1kg freshly cooked prawns
1 red capsicum
small head of iceberg lettuce
handful each of fresh dill, chives and coriander
----
for the dressing:
juice of 1 lemon
2 teaspoons seeded mustard
1 teaspoon runny honey
1/4 cup olive oil
salt and pepper to taste
Cut avocado in half and remove the seed, carefully score cubes into each avocado half and scoop out of shell into a large bowl or platter. Repeat with remaining avocados. Cut the two "cheeks" off each side of the mangoes and do the same scoring action as the avocado - making small cubes that you can scoop or cut out of the mango when you push the flesh away from the skin. Prepare cooked prawns by removing shells, heads and devaining them. Add prawns to the bowl. Slice capsicum into very thin slices and add to the bowl along with finely shredded iceberg lettuce. Next chop fresh herbs and add to the bowl.
Place dressing ingredients in a small jar and shake vigorously to combine. Toss through salad and serve immediately. | |
Zimtsternes: Cinnamon Stars
I love to make are these cinnamon stars or “zimtsternes" as they are called in German. These are especially lovely with the addition of citrus zest and juice and ground cinnamon. Delicate, fragrant and spicy. They are often covered with white royal icing or meringue but I prefer them adorned simply with a thin brushing of egg white and a sprinkle of raw sugar...
You will need:
250 grams or 2 cups ground almond meal
1 pinch sea salt
2 tablespoons rice flour + 2 tablespoons tapioca starch OR 4 tablespoons of GF plain flour
1 cup crystallised or raw sugar
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
2 tablespoons lemon or orange zest
2 tablespoons lemon or orange juice
2 fresh egg whites, beaten until frothy
-----
1 egg white, beaten and frothy, for brushing on top
Mix dry ingredients in a bowl. In a separate bowl beat egg whites until frothy but not stiff. Add egg whites to dry ingredients and mix. Next stir in citrus zest and juice. Using clean hands knead dough into a ball. On a lightly floured surface (lightly sprinkled with crystallised sugar too) roll out dough to 1cm thickness and cut into desired shapes. Arrange cookies on trays lined with baking paper and air dry for 2-4 if possible before baking (I have skipped this step many times before and they have worked out fine). Preheat oven to 180'c, brush cookies with egg white and bake cookies for 10 - 15 minutes, careful not to brown them - they will harden as they cool. Store in an airtight container for up to a month.
(Find more gluten free Christmas sweet recipes here) | |
|
|
I am delighted to be taking part in the 2022 Faith & The Arts Festival early next year. It will be held online so it means anyone can join in from around the country (and indeed the world). I will be facilitating a 4-day afternoon elective called "Savour the Seasons" which will guide you through times of contemplation, creative reflection, journalling and movement. There are still places left!
Visit the FATA website here for more info. | |
|
|
Last year I created a workbook with my local church for those wanting to explore the beauty of Advent at home. This PDF workbook contains reflections, scriptures, poems, activities and recipes for the four weeks leading up to Christmas Day along the themes of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. It is free to download. | |
|
|
 | | The grower of trees, the gardener, the man... |
|  | | | |
|
|
( A blessing for Christmas )
May all God wants
to bless you with
come to be, and may
your inner mangers,
fresh with hope,
hold wonders of His love,
and splendors of His world,
and wisdoms of His word
May peace surround you,
behind and before you,
your words and work,
your hearth and kin,
and all the friends
you haven't seen,
in your heart speak:
the prince of peace
And as the trees of the field
clap their hands,
may you sing joy -
marvel in the clouds
bees and sprouting seeds
full plates and grubby chins,
jolly abandon
for all begins with love | |
|
|
| |
|
