Surviving Lent with a Rebellious Sweet Tooth

Confessions of a sugarholic, featuring handy steps to lessen the cravings:

Step 1: Pray. Pray without ceasing. Ask God to curb this withdrawal that is making life miserable for another 16 days.

Step 2: Eat frozen fruit with abandon. Grapes are a personal favorite.

Step 3: Drink gallons of tea with lots of milk and a spot of honey, just this once. I highly recommend Chai. A pretty teacup is an absolute necessity - it makes everything taste better.

Step 4: Find friends who will join you in cultivating a savory tooth. Enjoy cooking and movie nights featuring dishes like Cape Cod chowder, Red Lobster cheddar biscuits and buttery homemade popcorn.

Step 5: Pick specific things to pray about instead of eating sweets. Intercede for those things while at birthday parties, surrounded by ice cream and cupcakes.

Step 6: Adapt favorite dishes for a sugarless alternative. Top decadent, impossibly fluffy Belgian waffles with a strawberry sauce made from reduced berries, vanilla and the tiniest smidgen of sugar to draw all the juice from the berries. Result? Better than syrup.

Step 7: Do strenuous physical activity to take your mind off your cravings. Train for a half marathon, and relish the weightless feeling of a sugar-free body.

Step 8: Repeat sugar fasts as needed throughout the year. They're no fun, but invaluable in practicing self-control and cultivating a healthy lifestyle.

Now, go eat a cookie. For my sake.

A Weekend in NOLA

For the 85th time I begged to know where we were going. Nathan refused to budge and even made me close my eyes whenever we passed a telltale road sign. Finally, my internal compass kicked in and I realized we were driving east. To New Orleans. Unbeknownst to me, my love had planned an entire weekend seeped in Cajun culture, complete with sightseeing, live music and more seafood and French pastry than I could dream of.

We pulled up to a breathtakingly beautiful hotel, a white jewel set in the midst of high rises and bustling streets. A gloved, tailed and top-hatted doorman took my hand and helped me from the car. We dumped our luggage in the room and immediately took off exploring, like two five-year-olds racing each other down silent, brocaded hallways. The elegance was magnificent. Heavy draperies, fresh flowers and hand-painted details adorned every inch of the place. We stumbled down forbidden stairwells, danced to the thrums of wedding reception music vibrating through every floor, and feasted on complimentary PB&J and hot chocolate in our jammies.

Every night at 10 pm a bedtime snack of sandwiches, milk and cocoa is laid out in the lobby, and guests have a PJ party.

There was even art on the ceiling!

Such an exquisite elevator

 Our weekend was packed, mostly with food. We breakfasted at a delicious French bakery, where Nathan died and went to heaven over the raspberry tarts.

We spent an afternoon at a fabulous WWII museum, spellbound in a Tom Hanks 4D film that literally transported us into the streets of Berlin. Then it was off to a dinner of crawfish and goat cheese crepes, a stroll through the French Quarter accentuated by spurts of live jazz and the lively bantering of locals at a moonlit market, and unbelievable cafe au lait and beignets at the famed Cafe du Monde. We walked home through Bourbon Street and barely made it out alive, and that's all I'll say about that.

Muriel's for dinner

6 pm, and the party begins.

Perfectly cast musicians.

Nate's beignets and chocolate milk

On Sunday I convinced Nathan that seafood is just as good at breakfast time. Cheddar grits and seafood omelet? There are no words.

He played it safe with steak. 

NOLA's most popular form of transportation

The party never ends.

I love New Orleans. I love the architecture; whole neighborhoods in rainbows of color where no two houses are alike. I love the festivity and the beauty and tradition. I especially love the food. And I love my husband who, after nearly three years, has never let the honeymoon die. 

A Lesson in Laughter

"To laugh at yourself is maturity."

- William Arthur Ward

Last weekend Nate and I threw towels, linens, Bibles and thrift store gems into one medium-size suitcase and boarded buses headed to the middle of nowhere. We spent three days in cabins with these rockstars:

Let me tell you a little about these kids. Our church is split into three campuses, of which the Clear Lake campus is the newest, smallest and least-known...kind of like an overlooked stepchild. Surrounded by hordes of shouting teenagers from the other campuses, we felt minuscule and a bit like a proverbial David facing Goliath. Except, in real life David defeated Goliath. Enter Recreation Time. Our motley crew found ourselves face to face with a dozen fully grown boy-men, full of muscle and zest to win. We played them in every. single. game. We were defeated terribly, insultingly. At one point in dodgeball they gave us every ball, and we still got creamed. I, ever a champion of justice, fumed at the outrage of it all. 

And here's where the Clear Lake kids taught me a bit about maturity. They never once complained. They never stopped having fun. When we were trounced and destroyed at every turn, for every single competition all weekend, they somehow found it funny. And they laughed and joked and made memories without a second thought about actually "winning." Clearly, in my book they're all winners - at a game much more important than sports. They lost with grace and good humor, focusing on building relationships rather than being the best. I realized just how competitive I really am, and learned to take things down a notch. After all, who cares about eating a can of Vienna sausages faster than anyone else, or winning the moonwalk competition or human Foosball, when we can look stupid and laugh about it and pray together and have amazing conversations about stuff that really matters?

I love y'all. You taught me a lot last weekend. Thanks for not being afraid to laugh at yourselves, and having a blast even though we were in last place. And Nate, thanks for being the best youth leader on the planet. You modeled a good attitude to these kids even when I couldn't. You inspire me (and you're a ridiculously good-looking 80's throwback).