The Lemonyist-Lemon Muffins

This recipe is adapted from Martha Stewart.

I’m convinced these muffins will herald in spring. The zest, the juice… they’ll fill your kitchen with a delightfully cheerful scent. And just wait until you taste them!

2  1/2 cups flour

1 3/4 teaspoons baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon salt

1 cup sugar

Juice of 2 large lemons

2 large eggs

1/4 cup milk

1 stick butter, melted and cooled

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Coat a standard muffin tin (or an oversized six-muffin tin) with spray oil. In a medium bowl, whisk together dry ingredients. In a separate bowl, mix the sugar, eggs, juice and milk. Whisk in butter. Stir wet ingredients into dry ingredients until just combined. Divide batter into muffin cups.

OPTIONAL: Mix together a half-cup each of flour and sugar. Add half a stick of cold, cubed butter and mix with fingertips until the butter is pea-sized. After your batter is in the muffin tin, top with a generous sprinkle of the flour mixture and a little lemon zest.

Bake until the tops spring back when lightly touched, about 20 minutes. Cool before serving.

Kingdom Restoration in Progress

That Sounds Fun has captivated my thoughts recently. The host, Annie F. Downs, is the author of several books and the inspiration behind the tremendous podcast. She’s successful and highly regarded, not to mention hilarious. But she’s also ordinary; you can just tell.

This afternoon, I listed to Annie’s conversation with Jamie Ivey. They talked about what it means to be a Kingdom-builder. “I ask myself,” Annie said, “Is this Kingdom-building? And if it isn’t, I stop doing it.”

I heard those words, and my fingers hesitated on the keyboard; my eyes stopped skimming the website on my monitor. Was this Kingdom-building? Yes. I was doing my job just then. But what about the rest of my life?

We’ve all been told to do the right thing, make the right choices, pursue what honors God. Those things are all true, and we certainly need to hear them. But they’re also stale, and that’s why Annie’s comment gave me pause. Somehow, the mental image of building a Kingdom is so different than choosing to do the right thing… and yet it isn’t, at all. They’re one and the same.

Years ago, my dad renovated our first-floor bathroom. While the project was yet complete, he taped a sign to the door: “Kingdom restoration in progress.” Sure, he was referring to the bathroom. I know my dad, though; he intended a double meaning. The sign was a visual reminder of the very real work all Christians are called to: Stewarding our corner of the earth while we’re here… which translates directly into heavenly Kingdom-building.

Somehow, Annie’s off-hand comment and the memory of my dad’s bathroom renovation fill me with fresh zeal. I can choose to be a Kingdom-builder each day, from the first cup of coffee to the afternoon meeting to the late-night phone conversation with my mom. I can use my strengths to further a team effort at work, cook dinner for friends and enjoy the sunset while I take a walk.

And what about when the project goes down in flames, plans change, and it’s pouring down rain? The goal remains the same. Build His Kingdom; allow Heaven and Earth to touch by obeying God. For me, that means choosing patience and taking a step back from the problems to find a solution. Or simply allowing myself to be disappointed, but not utterly discouraged.

All of these things are Kingdom-building because they all amplify God’s glory. I’m doing my utmost to restore and steward the bit of life God has blessed me with, no matter the circumstances. That’s the right response to His daily grace. (Kingdom-building is very closely tied to the hope of Heaven, actually. Go read Ephesians if you want to see for yourself.)

Be a Kingdom-builder today, my friend. Restore and steward what He has given you.

Weekend Blips

It was a couple layers in on the shared drive, a folder of miscellaneous news items and photos and documents. It made me laugh. “Blips?” I asked, pointing to the file.

“Yeah,” my mentor smiled. “You know, just little clips of things that don’t fit in anywhere else.”

Hence, Weekend Blips. These posts will feature a handful of my weekly favorites. Things that peaked my interest, made me laugh or think. Enjoy.

Chocolate Peanut Butter Sprinkle Cake – My Name is Yeh

This lady is a hoot, and her recipes are fantastic. If you have a sweet tooth (or someone you know does) be sure to browse her site before your next baking venture.

That Sounds Fun Podcast – Annie F. Downs

Do you love podcasts? I love podcasts. Annie is an author and speaker, and you won’t be disappointed by the conversations she hosts. For an uplifting, laugh-out-loud listen, try That Sounds Fun.

Up and Vanished

OH. MY. GOODNESS. This podcast. I can’t overstate how exceptional Up and Vanished is! Payne Lindsey, the creator and host, is an exceptional videographer-turned-investigative-journalist. If you like nail-biters, cold cases and real-life stories, you need to check this out. I won’t give anything away; just trust me. Start listening here; you can thank me later.

Blueberry Coconut Scones

The lady who did announcements at church called it “Narnia.” And I would tend to agree. Although the thermostat has once again dipped below 32, the winter wonderland outside my kitchen window is truly beautiful.  Our town has cloaked itself in white, completely disregarding the fact that it’s February and cardinals and finches are singing.

So what better to do on a snowy (SUPERBOWLGOEAGLES) Sunday afternoon than perfect my scone-making skills?

I’m particular when it comes to scones: They must be buttery, almost-airy, have layers, be sweet-but-not-too-sweet. I’ve been trying out recipes for several weeks. One dough was too dense, another too dry, a third to heavy on the baking powder. No matter what I tweaked, nothing ended up quite right.

My quest ended this afternoon. I have struck baking gold.

These beauties originated from Sarah Kieffer at the Vanilla Bean Blog. Her recipe is a real winner as-is. And it’s still a winner, even after I adapted it to fit my pantry! (Keep scrolling to see the version I devised.) Buttery, melt-in-your-mouth, with just the right touch of sweetness. Did I mention they’re also photogenic? Nailed it.

I highly recommend you give these a try! I sprinkled coconut shavings on mine, but that’s entirely optional. You can also substitute the blueberries for most other fruit. Or, if you prefer a savory scone, fold in thinly sliced jalapenos and fresh cilantro. Top with cheddar cheese before baking.

Taken from Sarah Kieffer at the Vanilla Bean Blog

2 ¼ cups (320g) all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
2 tablespoons sugar, plus more for sprinkling
½ teaspoon each: salt and cinnamon
1/2 cup coconut milk (you can also use crème fraîche or sour cream)
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
1 large egg
12 tablespoons (1 ½ sticks; 170 g) unsalted butter (I used margarine), cold and cut into ½ -inch pieces
Egg white (or heavy cream) for brushing

Adjust an oven rack to the lower middle position. Preheat the oven to 400°F. Stack two baking sheets on top of each other and line the top sheet with parchment paper.

In a large bowl, whisk the flour, baking powder, 2 tablespoons sugar, and salt. In a medium bowl or liquid measuring cup, whisk the crème fraîche, vanilla, and egg.

Add the butter to the dry ingredients and use a pastry cutter to cut it into the mixture until the flour-coated pieces are the size of peas. Add the wet ingredients and fold with a spatula until just combined.

Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and knead until it comes together, 4 to 6 times, adding flour as necessary, as the dough will be sticky. Pat the dough gently into a square and roll it into a 12-inch square (again, using flour as necessary). Fold the dough in thirds, similar to a business letter. Fold the dough into thirds again, making a square. Transfer it to a floured sheet pan or plate and put it in the freezer for 10 minutes.

Return the dough to the floured surface, roll it into a 12-inch square, and fold it business letter style. Place the dough seam side down and gently roll it into a 12 by 4-inch rectangle. With a sharp knife, cut it crosswise into 4 equal rectangles, then cut each rectangle diagonally into 2 triangles. Transfer the triangles to the prepared baking sheet.

Brush the tops with a little heavy cream, making sure it doesn’t drip down the sides and sprinkle the tops generously with sugar. Bake 18 to 25 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through, until the tops and bottoms are light golden brown. Transfer the sheet pan to a wire rack and let the scones cool 10 minutes before serving.

At the Intersection of Passion & Purpose

“Passion is not a plan. Passion is a feeling, and feelings change.”

Terri Trespicio

When we seek “God’s calling,” are we seeking what we’re passionate about… or what we’re made for?

Every freshman at my college is required to take the “freshman core.” It’s comprised of four classes, one per every eight weeks, for the duration of the school year. The second in  the series is essentials of behavioral science, more commonly referred to as “Essentials.”

That class sticks out in my memory for many reasons. My break out group (a cohort of maybe eight opinionated freshmen guided by a laid-back upperclassman) was particularly vocal. Our discussion time regularly dissolved into debate, and Essentials provided plenty of material.

One of the people who lectured, a professional counselor or something similar, spoke about self-actualization. In short, each person has two versions of themselves: the current version and an idealized version. The two circles slowly overlap as we grow and mature and all the rest. In the end, we should strive to have them overlap completely, so that our current self is identical to the idealized version.

Our professor meant no harm. She was simply sharing a key concept as it pertained to our subject. She never touted it as gospel.

But self-actualization unsettled me. It seemed so self-centered, so driven by personal gain. I was repulsed by it; and believe me, so was my break out group. We were all happy to share our thoughts on the subject, post-lecture.

At its root, self-actualization is the desire to attain full potential. It’s also a common first-world approach to life. “Are we really seeking God’s calling? Or are we desperately seeking importance and fulfillment?” asks Julie Roys, author of “Redeeming the Feminine Soul.” Passion is self and pleasure-oriented, but purpose is quite the opposite. It looks outward. It is others-oriented. And it tends to be long-term. It “gives more weight to meaning that pleasure,” one author noted.

Although passion can inform and fuel purpose, it cannot be its replacement. Although it’s often the inspiration for positive growth, passion is fickle; it “is a feeling, and feelings change.” For instance, I’m passionate about ending human trafficking. But what good would I do if I charged into Wellspring International and demanded that I be sent to the worst red light district in India? That decision would be driven by self-gratification… and the sense that I can end trafficking faster and more effectively than someone who is trained to do so. The people at Wellspring would tell me to go home and support them in a different way. A way that allows purpose to command and capitalize on passion, and direct both to the desired outcome.

Passion is healthy. Care about what matters, and care deeply. But purpose is what we all should invest careful time and thought into: Purpose that’s acted upon changes our world and the people in it. It’s Kingdom-building. In fact, I believe our purpose is identical to God’s calling; passion only fans that flame into a voracious, powerful fire.

Portraits: Mitch Randall

You know those people who make class discussions interesting, dinnertime more delightful, game nights hilarious? Yeah, that’s Mitch.

Mitch is equal parts sunny and insightful. He greets people by name and remembers facts about their lives. He has a knack for engaging in lighthearted conversation with professors and staff and peers and whoever else he meets. And I’m grateful to call him friend!

Money and the Soul’s Necessity

Superfluous wealth can buy superfluities only. Money is not required to buy one necessity of the soul.

Henry David Thoreau

I’ve spent much of the weekend pondering my financial future. It doesn’t look particularly bleak; nor is it staggeringly bountiful. It’s par for someone of my age and job and season.

But I’m sick of all the numbers. They try to tabulate and quantify my happiness. Satisfaction. Contentment. In reality, those numbers are just that: numbers. My happiness is to be found elsewhere, like a walk on a glowy evening with the people I like best. Or a hot cup of coffee from the best cafe in the Village. Or the joy of cooking a meal for a group of two or three.

Sure, those things require money to some extent. But the payback is much larger than the cup I pour my coffee into or the roast I bake in my oven. My investment is returned in hours of conversation and the simple, delightfully homey scent of micro-roasted coffee.

There’s sense in savings, though. As I balanced my budget this weekend, I also detailed a list of 11 items I would like to eventually own or experience. Top of the list is a down payment on a house. For instance, if I squirrel away $100 per month for 150 months (or about 6 years) I’ll have enough to purchase a small home in a nice neighborhood. (Or a larger fixer-upper in the proverbial “west side.” I’ll take either, thanks; I speak fluent ghetto.)

That yet-to-be home is important to me. I want a house of my own; therefore, I’m going to save until I can purchase one without shooting my financial future in the foot.

Starting now, I plan to steward what I make in the wisest way I know how. God has been exceedingly kind to me: I enter adult life sans college debt and with a shockingly small monthly rent. I have the freedom to sort through my wants and needs and plan for both without worrying. I know not everyone starts life this way, but we all have the option to budget well and plan for the future. The key is to work with what we have, not what we wish we had.

On a related note, I highly suggest this post from Desiring God Blog. Maybe it will inspire your decisions as it has inspired mine.

Warning: No Temporary Fixes Found

Note: This post marks the advent of a new style of blogging, a style I hope is more true to my mindset and lifestyle. Alongside my usual photo session sneak peeks, I’ll post musings about life as a young adult in the professional world. I’m glad you’re along for the ride.

Scrambled weather. Lightning forecast. Earthbound way to start the day: buttered oatmeal, fresh berries, river of thick cream. So soothed.

Ruth Reichl (@ruthreichl)

I hesitate to type my thoughts into existence. My degree and career are tied to connection and communication; I know how many people can access and judge what I write. Simultaneously, writing (even to an unknown audience) is my best practice, my outlet, my balm. I must write, or else cease to think in a straight line.

I can guess what sort of people will read this: my parents, grandparents, cousins, friends and acquaintances from high school. I welcome each of you. Maybe my lessons-learned will help you along your own journey.

Developing a Voice

My name is Abby,  and I’m a young professional. I manage all outbound and internal communication for a small-but-growing non-profit.  In my spare time, I read books, take pictures, help lead a young adults ministry at church and feed home-cooked meals to my friends.

At least that’s the go-to bio. The one I recite when new people invariably ask. That’s what I do. But who I am is another matter.

For some time, I’ve felt disconnected from my own voice. You could’ve hung an “Under Construction” sign around my neck for years. I wrote first for my mom, then for professors, now for my boss and the public at large. But writers are artists and they are known in the same manner as photographers and painters: by their style. Their voice. My voice.

This isn’t another self-help blog to make you feel better about your situation or find a temporary fix. There are no quick cures for a broken heart or rerouted plans, no time-turners to mend the past, no TARDIS to manage the future. Here, you will only find real stories.  Real stories from a real person who is fed up with social constructs and misplaced priorities and empty promises.

I draw inspiration from Kristen Morris, Hannah Martin, Ellie B and more… these ladies are truly special. They know what it means to be genuine.  And that’s what I’m reaching for, too: A Jane Eyre complex, if you will.

So let’s get started. Hello, friend; welcome to my corner of the internet, where truth isn’t relative and kindness is a premium.

The Mind of an Actor (2/3)

This is part two; read the first post here.

There are layers of complexity in “Measure for Measure” that require an incredible amount of effort. For instance, because there are only five AFTLS members, each is required to play three-to-four characters. Gerrard plays Duke Vincentio, Froth, Barnadine and a friar. “It’s really fun,” Gerrard said. “You have your major roles- mine is the Duke. We discovered that 30 percent of the play is the Duke talking.”

Sometimes these characters overlap in a scene. The actors are, in effect, talking to themselves. And yet, the audience is entirely convinced there is more than one person on stage. This happy trick is played on the mind throughout the whole of “Measure for Measure.”

But the overlapping roles are not a handicap. In fact, it is a welcome reprieve and challenge. “I swap from the Duke to the friar and Froth,” Gerrard explained. This style of acting is difficult but satisfying: He gets to play more than one character. “But it’s the audience that makes it work,” Gerrard added. “The Duke and the friar are the same person, and you want the audience to know that.” When these characters overlap within a scene, the audience must imagine that they are, in fact, different people; otherwise, the scene falls flat.

Gerrard paused in his explanation to smile and wave cheerfully at someone over my shoulder. “It’s Peter,” he said. “Here he comes! You can interview both of us.”

Peter Bray is tall and broad-shouldered. His smooth, chiseled face, wiry hair and dark eyes are a striking combination. He also wears a polo, though his is dark grey. Like Gerrard, Bray’s eyes communicate an abiding, although more reserved, passion for theatre. I ask him the question I had posed to Gerrard: What is it like to play more than one character, especially when they overlap in a scene?

“It’s really exciting,” Bray said, animation in his deep voice. “There’s extreme demand. At the drop of a hat — literally — you have to have rapid access to a different character; you have to step into a mask.”

Before “Measure for Measure,” neither Bray nor Gerrard had assumed several characters within the same scene. Drama school prepared them to access the level of required ability, but it was never directly addressed. Both agreed that there is a level of mystery involved. They get to “let the audience in” on the secret. The audience feels as though they understand something about the characters and the actors themselves; that is what makes “Measure for Measure” so compelling.

“It’s an ongoing process,” Gerrard continued. He leaned forward, eager for me to understand. “We’re still getting better. You never really finish it, and nothing really prepares you.”

“It takes more than time,” Bray nodded. “It takes extreme attention and brain fuel.” After even an hour of practice, Bray said, the team is exhausted.

But what role is the audience play in a performance? Much more than you might assume; it goes beyond laughter and facial expressions. The third and final installment will be this Friday!

Mikel Family | The Steadiest Love

“There is no doubt that it is around the family and the home that all the greatest virtues, the most dominating virtues of human society, are created, strengthened, and maintained.” – Winston Churchill

I’ve known Betsy for years. She was my first friend in college and remains one of my closest. Today, I got to photograph her beautiful family.

The Mikel family is steady and calm. They’re gentle with each other, and deeply loving. (The littlest one is especially treasured.) And yet, there’s an undercurrent of humor: Mr. Mikel jogging to stay warm, Mrs. Mikel playing peek-a-boo with the baby, Nate and Abe sandwiching Betsy in a hug and making faces.

Family is such a gift!