Not Quite Ordinary

Pretzel Crust Pizza

Posted on April 5, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Today I have no inspiring thoughts. No lessons learned. I have only food. Pretzel crust pizza, to be exact. It is our family’s celebration pizza. No, it’s not healthy AT ALL. But it’s fun, and sometimes we just want to have fun. I blame Little Caesar’s. They introduced pretzel crust pizza as a limited time only product. And when it was gone we missed it. So, we started experimenting with our own homemade version, and now my family would rather have mine than Little Caesar’s, even when they bring it back. So, today I thought I’d share that fun with you via the recipe.

Time: Approximately an hour to an hour and a half, start to finish. May take a little longer if you only have one pizza pan.
Yield: Two 12-15 inch pizzas.

INGREDIENTS:
Crust:
2 1/4 cups lukewarm water (I usually use the electric kettle and heat to around 104, but warm to the touch is fine)
3 1/8 tsp active dry or instant yeast (roughly 1 1/2 packages)
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 1/2 Tbsp sugar
5-6 1/2 cups flour (we’ve used all-purpose, bread, or pizza flour for varied textures)
1 large egg, beaten with a tsp of water
pretzel salt or course sea salt
corn meal

Topping:
1 can Frito Mild Cheddar Cheese Dip (9 oz)
pepperonis
shredded cheddar cheese (we like sharp cheddar)
Optional: 8-9 mozarella sticks, if you’d like a stuffed crust

DIRECTIONS:

(Note: I like to use my stand mixer for this, so that will be what the instructions are based on, but I’ll add in mixing notes along the way to help differentiate between hand and stand mixing. If you have a hand mixer with a dough hook, lean toward the stand mixer instructions.)

Preheat oven to 425°. If you have a quick-preheating oven, you can wait on this until you’re ready to knead the dough.
Dissolve yeast in warm water and stir with a wooden or plastic spoon until fairly well mixed. It’s okay if there are still yeast lumps. I stir for about a minute.
Add salt and sugar and stir until mostly dissolved.
Slowly add 5 cups of flour, one cup at a time on speed 1-2 until the dough is thick. Continue adding flour until the dough fully separates from the mixing bowl and stays pulled away for 30-60 seconds of mixing. If hand mixing, keep adding flour until the dough isn’t sticky. When you poke the dough with your finger and it bounces back, it’s ready to knead.
Knead for about 3 minutes (speed 2 on mixer or by hand), then shape into a ball.
Cut the ball into two even pieces and reshape each piece into its own ball. (Keep in mind that when you are shaping balls of dough, you need to do it in as few motions as possible so as to avoid additional kneading motions. It doesn’t have to be perfect, just a good starting point for rolling out the dough.)
On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough into a 15-17 inch circle – or just slightly larger than your pizza pan.
Lightly sprinkle your pizza pan with corn meal to reduce sticking, then place the dough on the pizza pan. The edges of the dough will hang off.
OPTIONAL: If you want stuffed crust, now is the time to place your mozarella sticks around the edge of the pan.
Fold the edges of the crust over as evenly as possible to create a nice pretzel ring around the edge. You may want to moisten the crust a little before folding it, just to help it seal as you press down, especially for stuffed crust.
Using a fork or a pizza crust docker (so much fun!), poke holes across the crust for even baking.
Brush egg wash over the entire perforated portion of the crust. Next, brush the egg wash across the pretzel edges, about a quarter of the edge at a time. Sprinkle the moistened edge with the pretzel salt. Repeat until the entire edge is moistened and salted.
Bake for 10 minutes.
While the first crust is baking, repeat steps 7-11 with your second crust if you have a second pizza pan.
Remove crust from oven and use a spatula to make sure it is completely loosened from the pan. This is easier to do before the pizza is topped.
Place the second crust in the oven and bake for 10 minutes. (If you only have one pizza pan but you have a pizza peel, you can remove the first crust from the pan, place it on the peel for topping, prep the second crust and get it in the oven, then top the first pizza while the second one is baking.)
Spread half a can of cheese dip over the baked crust. Top generously with pepperonis, then sprinkle the shredded cheddar on top of that.
Once the second crust is done baking, set the oven to broil and place the first topped pizza in the oven. Broil for 3-5 minutes, depending on preferred crispiness. You can put the pizza directly on the oven rack at this point, if desired.
While that pizza is under the broiler, top the second pizza, then broil 3-5 minutes.
Place pizza on a cutting mat and let it rest for a couple of minutes. Then slice and enjoy!

Personal Superhero

Posted on April 3, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

People who write for a living are superheroes.

I enjoy writing. It is nourishing to me to take the thoughts in my head and turn them into tangible concepts. And I have long had stories floating around in my head that I’d love to get out someday.

I also do want people to read what I write, mainly because I feel that writing is my strongest avenue for drawing people to Truth. I’m not always right and I know I don’t represent Christ with perfection by any stretch of the imagination. But if it is at all possible for me to help others see Him more clearly through the practice of writing, I want to do it!

In our society, though, to truly make an impact as a writer, you have to “sell” yourself. You have to draw attention and make people want to read what you have to write. That’s the part I’m horrible at. I don’t push my writing. I don’t make sure that my content is right there in front of everybody, encouraging them to see and read. I prefer to be behind the scenes in real life, and that’s no different in writing.

So on days like today when the thoughts just aren’t flowing and the writing hits roadblocks, I can’t imagine having to both write and promote myself as a competent writer. It makes me wonder what the point is. Why do I even write, anyway?

I don’t think I’m alone in thoughts like these, and not just about writing, either. I think there’s a lot of stuff we just never do in life because we go down the “why bother?” trail. We hit a bad day and suddenly see all of the things we’re not good at. So, we decide we shouldn’t bother even with the things we are good at (probably because we no longer feel good at them).

Because living life — truly living it — is scary. That’s just the reality.

I don’t like scary. I like safe. I like confident. I like to know that something I start is going to work out from beginning to end. I don’t like to invest in things that may not succeed. (For the record, some days are overwhelming enough that this even involves investing in mundane things like cooking lunch. Yes, I’m weird. Yes, today is one of those days, and it has shown in my utter lack of productivity. I’m not sure how I’m even forming coherent words at all! But I digress.)

Today is one of those no-flow, roadblock kind of days. And I almost just didn’t bother, which is honestly my typical response when I hit days like today. I almost didn’t write. I put it off for a while, filling my time with piddly, unproductive things instead of moving forward well with my day. Which means I not only wasn’t writing, I also wasn’t doing anything else good and productive and useful.

Because that’s easier and safer than diving in and trying to do something that I may not be able to complete. It’s easier than failing. It’s easier to just not do than to question whether or not doing it is worth the effort.

I didn’t punt today, though. I sat down and did. It took me a lot longer than it should have, and I wasted most of my morning in the delay. But I did it. (Oh, and lunch worked itself out, too, but that was because my wonderful hubby jumped in with an awesome suggestion. Thank you, Hubby!)

It makes me feel just a bit like a superhero. Not a superhero who can tackle the battles of the world but one who can persevere over my own struggles. An ordinary but very, very personal superhero.

I have a feeling you have days like this, too. But you’re doing life anyway. You’re pushing forward. You’re tackling the scary. That makes you a superhero, too. One who is victorious over the ordinary that feels so overwhelming.

The results don’t have to be great. Goodness knows this blog post isn’t great. But I’m doing it. And I’m publishing it before I can talk myself out of it. And I’m encouraging you to go ahead and do, too.

Be a superhero for yourself today.

Thoughts from Kids, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Others

Beautiful Ages

Posted on April 1, 2024March 26, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

A picture popped up in my Facebook memories. One of my all-time favorites, actually. It pops up every year and I think I reshare it every year, even though it’s now well over a decade old.

The setting is a small town where we used to live. We lived on one edge of town and the post office was at the other end, but the town was small enough that even our littlest could make the trek with us.

On this particular spring day, he didn’t have to. His sisters decided that they wanted to give him and our life-sized stuffed emperor penguin Napoleon a ride in our son’s beloved little red wagon.

In the picture, my precious girls, aged 9 and 7 at the time, face away from the camera, one pulling the wagon and one pushing. (The joint effort wasn’t necessary, but that’s where they wanted to be.) Their 4-year-old brother sits in the wagon facing the camera, proudly holding Napoleon and grinning from ear to ear.

The picture is a beautiful representation of those days. My children fought and argued like any siblings, but they also adored each other. And the girls absolutely loved doing things for their brother. The image didn’t capture a rare sweet moment like some pictures do. Instead, it captured that season of our family’s life. Each year it pops back up in my Facebook feed and reminds me of the beauty of that season.

And yes, some days I miss it. It was not always easy. It was not always glorious, and there were days I wanted to move forward or move on or just be in a different place. But it was still good, and I loved my children being that age.

Here’s the thing, though. I love my children now, too. They are grown. That littlest one in the wagon is now the tallest and is joining his sisters in the adventure of adulthood.

All three of my children have hit some really, really hard days, and my heart grieves the pain they’ve had to journey through. But even though I wish I could protect them from the pain, I still cherish what they’ve learned to make them who they are today. And even though I sometimes miss the baby days or the wagon-pulling days or the lap-snuggling days or the read aloud on the couch days, I wouldn’t give up the grown-up days I’m enjoying now just to go back to the old times.

They are all beautiful ages.

Interestingly, there are some other posts that have popped up in my social media feeds that have also shared the glory and beauty of past ages. They are the posts that talk about how wonderful and beautiful childhood was for this generation or that. They accomplish this by declaring the current age to be ugly. They declare that children today will never be good enough or fulfilled enough or healthy enough or happy enough or whatever enough because they live in the wrong age.

Here’s the sad part about this perspective. It would be just like saying that my children are not good enough because they aren’t still 9, 7, and 4. They aren’t still pulling, pushing, and riding a little red wagon through a town they haven’t lived in for years.

This mindset declares that, because of things outside of their control, my children aren’t enough.

As parents, we tend to verbally mourn the loss of the “little” years without celebrating what we’ve gained in the “big” years.

As generations, we talk about how wonderful we had it when we were kids without celebrating the wonderful things that the new generation has that we didn’t.

Yes, I had a freedom to be outside and unrestricted. But I also lost connection with some potentially lifelong friends because I moved and they moved and we lost track of physical mailing addresses. My kids have more restrictions in some ways, but they have friends all around the globe that they interact with every single day.

They will never truly grasp the beauty of my childhood, but I will honestly never experience the beauty of theirs. And it’s okay. Good even. Because there are positives and negatives in every generation. There is beauty in every single age.

Infancy. Childhood. Teen years. Adulthood.

The 50s, the 80s, the 2020s.

Instead of bemoaning what is gone and belittling what is present, what if we were to extol the beauty of it all? What if we were to spend as much time exploring the good as slamming the bad?

We might just find that there’s a whole lot more beauty than we ever imagined possible. Yes, even today.

Thoughts from Life

5 Simple Steps

Posted on March 27, 2024March 26, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Recently someone I knew recommended an article as “good” and “helpful.” It was on a topic of interest to me, discussing an area where I have been seeking to grow, so I went ahead and clicked the link. And I was immediately deflated and reminded why I don’t typically click such links.

Oh, the suggestions in it were accurate. They were all things you should do. But they were all the most basic suggestions imaginable. The obvious. The starting point. They weren’t suggestions for those who were actually struggling to find encouragement and guidance in the work itself.

Imagine it this way.

You are trying to give someone guidance on how to learn to cook, so you give them these five pointers:

Gain access to a kitchen.
Make sure the kitchen is stocked well with pots, pans, sturdy cooking utensils, and a good set of knives.
Always have salt and pepper on hand, and consider a few additional spices.
Find a recipe you want to prepare and go grocery shopping.
Make sure you set out all of your ingredients and supplies before starting to cook.

All of those tips are accurate, right? But, do they really teach someone to cook? Even if you were to add a paragraph under each point, ensuring more clarity about what it meant to be “stocked well” or what to pay attention to when seeking recipes, there is still so much lacking. This doesn’t teach someone how to cook. At all. In fact, an individual who had never cooked before would probably be headed for disaster if this were their sole source of encouragement and instruction.

And yet, this is what we have to offer, not just for beginners but also for those veterans who find themselves stuck and in need of help. Five quick tips to ensure success in parenting, marriage, other relationships, business, ministry, homeschooling, political engagement, job hunting, navigating menopause, battling mental health…you name it. These are the suggestions handed down by the people who are successful. The people who have “made it.”

People are floundering because of it. They are discouraged and frustrated. They feel like failures because they’ve tried all the best tips and still can’t seem to figure things out. They have believed the lie that they can never be successful simply because they can’t take these five simple tips handed out by the “experts” and produce a five-star meal.

I’ve been guilty of writing these articles just to produce content. But I’ve also been on the side of frustration and failure when the articles do nothing to really help me figure out solutions.

So, what is the solution?

Relationship. Community. Real hands-in-the-dirt work and partnership.

You see, the problem with the cooking suggestions is not that the guidance is wrong. It is instead that we have decided to give people a witty 400-800 word article instead of instruction and aid. We have chosen to keep our distance and offer our brilliant, simple points rather than walk through learning with someone. Because if we were to do that, we know we would inevitably hit upon some uncomfortable truths.

We’d see that not everyone has what we had when we were learning the same lessons. Some people are coming from very different circumstances. Others have different strengths and talents. Different skills. Different manners of thinking and approaching life.

And that makes training messy. It means that it’s not a one-size fits-all proposition. And it means that sometimes we have to admit we don’t know all of the answers. It means that we have to recognize our own need to keep learning. We haven’t actually “made it” after all.

We don’t like to be put in that position. The 5 Simple Steps approach is so much easier.

And never successful.

We have so much more to give. Will we make the effort to build the relationships and invest the time necessary to give it?

Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Scripture

He Didn’t Know

Posted on March 22, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

John the Baptist is a well-known biblical character, but he is also surrounded by mystery.

We experience his life from divine announcement through birth, and then catch a glimpse of him again in adulthood. We know that Mary, mother of Jesus, knows his significance. And we know that Elizabeth, his own mother, knows that Mary’s child is the promised Messiah. She knows that her son John will be the herald for Jesus the Messiah.

But when we get to John 1:31, we discover that John “didn’t know him, but…came baptizing with water so that he might be revealed to Israel.”

John’s mother and father knew Jesus was the Messiah, but they didn’t tell John for some reason. Perhaps, given their advanced age when he was born, they died before he was old enough for them to tell him. Or maybe they just trusted God to handle the details.

Mary knew who John was and what his job would be, but she didn’t tell him either. Again, we don’t know how the relationship between Mary and Elizabeth played out over the years because the Bible doesn’t explore those details. Maybe in the process of traveling to Egypt and then back to Nazareth she lost connection with Elizabeth and never interacted with John after his birth. We just don’t know.

All we know is that John didn’t specifically know that his distant cousin Jesus was the Lamb of God. The “One.”

Not until this moment in John 1 when God reveals the truth to John.

And yet…

John acted anyway. He taught anyway. He preached anyway. He baptized anyway. All he had was this strange compelling, this command to “prepare the way.”

The idea of a herald preparing the way was not an uncommon one in John’s day. The people hearing his message of repentance would have understood John’s role. Heralds came early to declare the king’s coming. The people were then supposed to literally make the roads smooth and straight for the king’s arrival.

The difference between John and these other heralds was that they’d met their kings. Or at least seen their kings. They knew, without a doubt, who their kings were and what they were about.

John didn’t.

He just knew the King was coming, and he was the herald.

The Pharisees and other Jewish leaders had a lot of questions that he couldn’t answer. I can imagine the doubt that must have seeded in his mind, leading to his later questioning whether or not Jesus really was “the One.” But it didn’t change his work, even when he couldn’t exactly answer the questions other than to say, “He’s coming!”

What about me?

Is there anything I am refusing to start because I don’t have all of the details yet? Or am I walking forward in obedience despite all of my unanswered questions? In what areas do I need to just obey, trusting that the information I’ve already been given is enough? Trusting that the fullness of the story, the complete information, will come in Almighty God’s timing, not mine?

Jesus is coming. May I be bold enough to prepare the way, leaving the details to Him.

What I Do, Work & Life

Should I Say That?

Posted on March 20, 2024March 19, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Years ago, I started writing because random thoughts would hit my brain and I’d want to flesh them out. Then I’d want to share them. There isn’t always a lot of consistency to those thoughts. Sometimes they are triggered by my morning Bible reading. Other times relational interaction give me pause.

There are responses to events around me, random mental pictures that I want to flesh out, new habits and practices that work for me that I want to share, and just general thoughts or ideas that come to mind.

Sometimes these ideas flow faster than I can process them. Other times it can be a disturbingly long time between ideas. But that’s another discussion for another day. (Yes, I have notes on it already!)

For today, though, the thought is this: should I really write about everything that comes to mind?

You probably already know the answer to that. It’s a resounding NO for a wide variety of reasons. But I’m not always incredibly wise about how I invest my writing time. So, I need to set myself some guidelines and boundaries to help me process what to say. And that’s what I have to say today…a glimpse into those guidelines!

Does it stick?

The best ideas are those that have staying power. The ones that I can set aside and then come back to and still know how to flesh out — and maybe even have the ability to flesh them out better than when I first had the ideas.

Now, this doesn’t mean it just floats around in my head. I’ve lost a lot of great, “sticky” ideas by not writing them down! But, if I can jot down a few notes (a brief theme or title followed by 3-5 sentences or bullet points to serve as reminders) then come back a few days, weeks, or even months later and flesh it out, it’s definitely an idea that has stuck. That makes it worth considering.

Does it grow?

Mental images of The Blob aside, good ideas really need to grow and evolve. What starts as a brain tickle needs to develop substance if it’s going to be useful for myself or anyone else.

Even a “sticky” idea can prove to have little more substance than those brief notes I jotted down. While the lack of growth doesn’t mean it never needs to be shared, it’s really not worth it to take those few bullet points and just add fluff without substance. There’s enough of that floating around. I don’t need to add to it. There are other avenues for sharing those thoughts. After all, if we would all share a few more brief, positive thoughts on social media, it might be a more encouraging place to hang out!

Does it relate?

This is a big one. I have written a lot of things that have never seen the light of day. They stay on my computer or in my journal. Why? Because they aren’t relevant to anyone other than me. That’s not to say that there aren’t other people processing the same things. But, there are certain things we shouldn’t throw out into the wild. If we share them, they should be shared privately with individuals for the purpose of encouraging and strengthening one another.

While nothing I write is relevant to everyone, it’s important to have wisdom to know when what I write is not really relevant for public sharing at all.

Does it honor Christ?

Not everything I write is a Bible thought. It doesn’t always have a spiritual theme or express ideas of faith.

And yet…

I am a Christian. That means I am a citizen of the kingdom of God. My number one priority in life should be allegiance to the Lord Jesus Christ and God the Father. Period. Even if I am writing a random tip about life, it should never, ever contradict that allegiance. My writing can’t be neutral. It is either nourishing others in their lives of allegiance — or sparking the interest of those outside the kingdom — or it is an act of rebellion. Treason. There is no middle ground.

That can sound harsh, but when you swear allegiance to something, it’s an all or nothing reality. You are either for or against. No one is ever truly neutral.

So, the things I write should reflect that I am growing in the fruit of the Spirit, even if I struggle in that growth, and that I hunger to serve my Lord.

Am I always diligent to answer all of these questions before I write or publish something? No, I’m not. But when I look back on what I’ve written over the years, the things that fit all of these are the ones that still hold true (and that I still like even after all this time). I hope that in the coming years I will become increasingly faithful to hold to these guidelines, confident in the words that are pouring forth from my fingers.

Meditations & Meanderings, Perspective, Thoughts from Life

Sharing the Good…AND the Bad

Posted on March 18, 2024March 19, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Some days I look around and feel like everything is bad news. The reports of depression and anxiety overwhelm me the most. It’s like an epidemic, and I despise it.

It’s especially disheartening because of how many teens and young adults are buried under the weight of anxiety and depression. The number of moms who can identify with watching their children suffer is devastating.

But we don’t want to talk about the suffering. In fact, we often speak badly of those who actually share their struggles while glorifying those who never speak a negative word, no matter their suffering. I recall when one such man passed away from cancer, much was made of the fact that he never spoke of his own pain and suffering but was always quick to pour life and joy into other people. Even when he was asked about himself, he deflected and poured positivity into others.

Don’t get me wrong, this particular man was amazing and he deserved every good word spoken about him.

But I also remember feeling the weight of condemnation pour over me because, just a few hours before, I had been asked a question about how things were going and I answered honestly. We were struggling, and I knew this person would understand. And pray. And support. So, I answered instead of deflecting. I was raw instead of oozing positivity.

But it suddenly seemed like that had been the completely wrong response.

And boom. Instead of being encouraged because I was able to share my struggle with someone who understood, I was once again buried in the epidemic of anxiety and depression.

So, what’s the answer?

Should we share and try to draw strength from one another? Or are we just dragging each other down when we share our struggles? Should we refuse to say anything negative or admit to any struggle just so we can make sure that others only see positive? Or are we actually causing more grief and harm by making one another feel guilty for honestly sharing our struggles?

I recently had an epiphany about all of this after a fellow mom shared with me the struggle that mornings were with her depressed teen. The conversation returned to me as I was having a hard time getting started myself the next morning. I was suddenly aware and cognizant of why MY mornings had been so bad recently.

Because someone else shared, I saw myself.

Because someone else was honest, I became aware.

Because someone else didn’t sugarcoat, I gained understanding.

Not condemnation. Not a beat-down for not being enough. But a realization of where I was. Reality. Clarity. Honesty.

It didn’t solve my problem. But it did move me forward. It made me see a purpose in my actions throughout the day. It provided a minuscule boost to my tiny allotment of will power. All because someone else shared a struggle instead of oozing positivity and denying the negative.

There’s a time and a place for the good. A time to radiate joy and strength and positive. A time to say, “I’m going to focus on your beauty rather than my hurts. I’m going to nourish you and allow that to comfort me in the process.” In fact, this should be our priority. It should be our aim and goal.

But there’s also a time to be real. Honest. Raw, even. A time to let others know that we’re not okay. That the suffering is getting to us.

Because in that honesty, we reveal that we’re human. We need. We don’t always handle hurt with grace and joy. Sometimes we just hurt. Others around us need to know this. They need to know that they aren’t condemned because they feel their pain and suffering. They’re not less-than because they can’t radiate joy all the time.

They need to know they’re not alone. They need to be awakened to realizations of, “Oh! That’s how I feel! It’s real! It’s legitimate! And maybe…just maybe, it’s solvable.

We need to share the good. Without a doubt. But we also need to share the struggles. The pain. The bad. Because in doing such, we just might find that we save a life simply by letting someone else know they’re not condemned. They’re not alone. They’re not done for.

They’re just real.

Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life

On Puzzles and Noticing

Posted on March 15, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I love puzzles. Fortunately for me, I also have a daughter who enjoys puzzles, maybe even more than I do! Over the years, we’ve loved sitting down to puzzles together, working on them for Sabbath rest or in stolen moments here and there.

The summer before she headed off to college, we started a rather complex puzzle. With 1500 pieces, it wasn’t an abnormally sized puzzle for us. We frequently tackle 1000-piece puzzles without a second thought, and a 500-piece puzzle isn’t even really a challenge at all. So, there wasn’t anything extraordinary about this 1500-piece puzzle in its size.

It was the image itself that caused us to wonder about our sanity as we dove in. This particular puzzle was constellations. A dark background covered in tiny words and dots and details. Several times I wondered if my eyes weren’t just a bit too old for this heavily detailed puzzle.

We started the puzzled over the summer. Then my daughter headed off to college. I tackled a couple of things here and there — parts that I knew wouldn’t be too challenging because I could see the patterns easily. But I didn’t make a lot of progress.

My daughter came home for Christmas, and we decided to spend some time puzzling. That first day back on the “job” I noticed something I had never seen before, even after months of having the puzzle out. I noticed blue lines and patterns connecting the stars in the middle of the puzzle. Images. Patterns. Designs with coherent flow.

I had expected the center to be almost impossible to figure out systematically because of the teeny tiny dots and numbers. But what I found was a series of patterns that would make the puzzle much more easy to solve. Connection points. Anchors.

These had been there all along, I just hadn’t noticed them.

Oddly enough, I’d just finished a book a few days before that talked about noticing. Sitting patiently with art or other aspects of beauty to observe and gain awareness that a glance — or even a long look — will never provide. The idea of sitting in front of a single painting for minutes, much less hours, seems so very hard to me. And yet, I’ve caught myself lingering at times before a snippet of beauty only to find that I could hardly tear myself away. So much to see and take in that a lifetime couldn’t possibly be enough!

I’ve long argued that we need to approach Scripture this way as well. Sitting with it, reading and rereading it, discovering what we can’t see quickly. This approach was pressed into my heart and mind by a college class. Our professor would hand us a passage and have us list all of our observations. When we felt we’d gleaned all we possibly could, he would tell us to go and do it again. We’d moan and groan, thinking there was nothing else to be seen. We’d get ornery and list blatantly obvious, seemingly ridiculous details, only to discover that those details would awaken us to a whole list of things we’d missed before.

In recent years, this concept of lingering and observing that once was as natural as breathing has become foreign to me. In some ways, I’ve been afraid to linger because lingering isn’t always happy. Sometimes it’s simply overwhelming, producing unexplained emotions that leave me with more questions than answers. Lingering can mean dealing with painful things. Things that I can’t fix. Things that only hurt.

Little observances have been awakening my heart. A lakeside sunrise so incredibly beautiful that I couldn’t bear to pull my eyes away. A pattern than stirred thoughts and made me want to create despite the fact that art is not in any way a gifting of mine. A puzzle that seemed so challenging because of all of its apparent sameness, only to reveal itself to be full of patterns and nuances that, once discovered, made it almost easy to complete.

Noticing stirs thoughtfulness. Thoughtfulness stirs emotions. Emotions stir connection. And connection breathes life back into parts of me that have been, at best, dormant and, at worst, dead.

Fortunately for me, I serve a Lord, Savior, and Master who not only awakens the dormant but can actually bring the dead back to life.

Sometimes with something as simple as a puzzle.

Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Prayer

Who Are You?

Posted on March 13, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

We love superheroes. Even if we aren’t Marvel or DC fans, we still find ourselves drawn to the stories of heroes of fantasy, history, and everyday life.

There’s an interesting thing about heroes, though. Many of them don’t really want to be known. The motivations vary. Some are truly humble, and they want to be able to do for others without the restriction of having their every motive and action questioned.

Others simply cling to being mysterious, either through alter-egos or staying in the shadows. This is a common theme throughout mythology and story-telling. You never really know the true identity of the hero, and the hero doesn’t really want to be known. Mystery is part of their success.

We kind of idolize that, don’t we? And sometimes we think we want to imitate it. But then it gets lonely and we discover that, truthfully, we want to be known. We want to be seen. Maybe not in a cocky or self-important way, but in a relational way. We’re tired of isolation and desire relationship. We want people to see us. To know us.

All of this went crashing through my mind recently as I was pondering my Scripture and devotional readings for the morning. I don’t know that any of it specifically related to the reading; it was more connected to a heart desire. A desire to truly get to know more of God through His Word, His actions, and His presence in each day.

I strayed to the thought of mythological gods and demigods, our foundation for superhero stories of today, and realized that few if any of them ever wanted to be known by mere mortals (unless there was romance involved — those stories get a bit crazy!). They wanted to stay lofty and mysterious.

The same has been true of religions throughout history. The relevant gods all remain mysterious and distant, unknowable by mere mortals.

But our God is different. He, by nature, is too great for us. He isn’t truly knowable. Yet, what has He done throughout history? He has created ways for us to know Him, even going to the extreme of sending His Son to give us an avenue for knowing Him. Think of how many times Jesus indicated to His disciples that if they knew Him, they’d know the Father! What an amazing concept!

Here’s where the thought gets really mind-boggling.

We want to be known, right? We want to be seen.

What if that desire to be known is actually one of the signs that we are made in the image of God? What if that very craving, that very desire, is a reflection of God in us?

On the surface, that can seem a bit heretical, I know. It makes God seem self-centered and egotistical, especially considering that our desire to be known usually has selfish motives.

And yet…

God walked in the garden with the first humans so that they could get to know their Creator. He revealed Himself throughout the Old Testament through awesome works, the law, and the prophets.

Then He sent Jesus.

The Almighty God, Creator of the universe longs to be seen and known by us! This infinite, unknowable God reveals Himself in ways that make sense to our finite, limited minds.

What if we were to seek to know God in the way that we truly want to be known? Seek the truth of His heart? The depth of His desires? The vastness of His love?

He wants to be made known. He wants us to know Him. And He wants us to help Him be made known to the entire world. What an overwhelmingly profound reality!

Lord, who are You? Who are You really? How can it be that You want little, insignificant me to know You? How is it that You, the Almighty God of all existence, can be willing to take the time to not only know me but to reveal Yourself to me? Personally. Intimately.

Help me desire to know You even just as much as I want to be known. And may that ultimately change. May my desire morph into being fully about knowing You, trusting that I am always known by You.

Reveal to me who You are!

Perspective

A Quarter of a Tank

Posted on March 6, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I like word pictures. They help me take abstract thoughts and ideas and turn them into practical realizations.

Recently, something I read or heard about mental health filled my mind with a word picture that overwhelmed me with stark awareness. I don’t remember what exactly triggered the image, but I remember how powerful it was. Our society is becoming more open to discussing mental health and the impacts of anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. Even neurodivergence is garnering more positive discussion these days. But, those who have never personally interacted with neurodivergence or mental health issues still have a hard time grasping what the challenges really look like.

That’s where word pictures can be incredibly helpful. Shall I share mine with you?

Imagine you own a car that looks great and sounds/runs fine once it’s started. But, the simple act of starting it uses up three-quarters of a tank of gas. Every. Single. Time. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve never owned a vehicle that uses that last quarter of a tank of gas as efficiently as the first quarter of a tank. So, you can’t do as much on that last quarter of a tank as you could with the first quarter of a tank were you starting from full.

Some people, especially those living day-in and day-out with depression, anxiety, or other such quiet, nearly invisible challenges are like that car. It takes 75% (if not more) of their supply of will power just to get out of bed. Then, as with a car that has to stay idling all day just so you don’t have to restart it (since you don’t have enough gas to do so), much of what’s left is consumed with trying to figure out where to even begin with the rest of the day.

It’s easy to look at that person and say, “If you would just do _____ or have _____ attitude, it would help you and you’d feel better.” But, there are a lot of ______s to do, and they add up so quickly. And that “easy” attitude adjustment requires so much energy, will power, and discipline. All of those things that should be simple are not. A healthy person can do those things and barely use up an ounce of gas. Not so for someone running on that bottom quarter of a tank. It might cost them a gallon, an incredibly high cost.

Someone in your life operates on that quarter of a tank day in and day out. Everything expected of them is extraordinarily costly. And they’re afraid that tomorrow it will take 80% of their allotment to get started, maybe even 90% by next week. So, they’re hoarding. Protecting.

I wish I could say that there was an easy fix to help them eliminate the start-up consumption, but there’s not. Eventually, some of them can find ways to improve their car’s efficiency or even get a new car. But for now, they’re just doing the best they can, and they’re doing it with the assumption that their struggle is not going to be understood. That they’re just going to be handed “simple” solutions from a society that wants them to pull it together and just be “normal.”

Maybe there is a better option. Maybe instead of feeling like someone who needs to be fixed, they simply need to feel seen and understood. Who knows what that simple act of understanding can accomplish?