Eggs Borgogne

Yesterday, my dad and I made eggs borgogne, which is basically the snotty way of saying poached eggs in red wine sauce.  We tried the recipe (found here) last fall and found that we cooked the sauce down way too much.  This time the results were much better.  We ate them with the same red wine we used for the sauce.  Next time, we're going to try the sauce on beef tips with polenta.  Already drooling thinking about it!    

Mmm, chopped veggies

Chopped veggies in red wine 

Eggs poached in red wine on top of fried bread called croutes.

 

Pouring the sauce on top

I Can Do All Things But...

“I can do all things through Him who strengthens me...”

But I’m a pair of scissors trying desperately to be a spoon. 

How many times have I read this verse?  As a child the surface level alone sunk in; I could trust the Lord, over come my fear of the dark, pass a test I hadn’t studied for (and then, as my old pastor would say, would receive a ‘D’), be nice to the kids who made fun of me for my Texas accent and wild imagination, win the half mile race I’d trained so hard for…

 

…as a youth group kid, so convinced of my own “inbred” righteousness, (I’d always known I needed a savior, and I knew all the scripture memory, and I never did what those kids did) a slightly deeper meaning began to take hold, prompting feelings of disgust at those who used it for encouragement for athletes and for myself at having once mistaken it to mean that I could do amazing things by some magical power Christ had given me.

…as a college kid, faced with a clearer reality of my own sin and a stronger dose of humility, this verse began to take hold as I understood the deeper meaning in my heart and not just my head…I could survive depression, insomnia, anxiety…I could go to another country and be a missionary…

And then comes adulthood.  My grasp on this verse hits me today like a big sledgehammer of guilt to my gut: I can do a job I don’t particularly enjoy without grumbling and complaining, to the absolute best of my ability, rejoicing that God has called me to this specific place in His kingdom for however long, even if that means twenty, thirty, forty years; I can rejoice in singleness and childlessness, knowing He can use me in ways He won’t use a wife or mother whose loyalties lie with children and husband, knowing my individual call is not insignificant just because I am not married; I can face absolutely anything, sickness, want, conflict through Him Who strengthens me.    

Sometimes it hurts; sometimes I mourn and that’s ok. God never told me not to mourn, never told me to put on a fake smile; but He did command me not to grumble or complain, He did tell me that He would be my strength, and He’s now demanding my repentance.  He allowed a beloved job to be taken, has continued to allow me to remain “unattached”, and it is for the absolute best, at least for now.     

So I ask forgiveness for my grumbling, my sour attitude, my failure to do my best; I pray for renewed strength and a willingness to throw myself entirely into my work when I’m there, to be a witness, an encouragement…to stop insisting I’m a spoon when at the moment I’m supposed to be a pair of scissors… 

“Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.  I can do all things through Him to strengthens me.”  Philippians 4: 11-13