Cookies and kindness for "weary travelers"

From the beginning, my association with chocolate chip cookies was built on love.  In my grandmother’s kitchen, she and I would make the Toll House cookie recipe right on the Nestles chip bag.  To thoroughly mix the butter and sugars, Grandmother Jewel would use her hands, and I suspect my hands got in on that before I was very old.  Going to spend the night with her at her one bedroom apartment usually meant there would be cookie baking, Frito munching and fun.  Although she lived only five minutes away from my house, these overnights were something I looked forward to.

I’m sure cookie baking and eating were woven into my years growing up, and I did develop an interest in baking myself as a teenager.  “In the olden days,” as my grown daughter calls them, there were no specialty cookie stores in nearby malls.  The cookies, cakes and pies eaten at our house were baked in somebody’s kitchen.  Even in the 50s and 60s there were bakeries, but I don’t remember purchasing our “sweet tooth” items at them or even in the grocery stores.  Something I do remember is buying some outstanding chocolate chips cookies in the high school cafeteria; perhaps this is when my discriminating appreciation for thicker, gooier versions was born.

Nothing stands out in my memories of cookie baking and eating until after I began teaching in high school (the same one I attended) and got married.   My husband and I were back in touch with two of my high school friends who married each other.  Jan and I had become very good friends in junior high; she and Randy moved to an apartment very close to the neighborhood we lived in.  Randy had a younger sister who had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and had declined rather quickly.  Her parents had remodeled their home in a small town not far from St. Louis to accommodate her increasing disability.

On a visit to Randy’s parent’s house, a brownie-like version of chocolate chip cookies made its entrance into our family narrative of Toll House affection.  By this time, Randy’s sister, now in her twenties, was bedridden, and it was clear that her parents greatly welcomed loving friends and visitors coming to their country home.  I have no idea what our lunch was that day, but the dessert, gooey chocolate chip brownies, was a hit from the first bite.  Of course, I asked for the recipe.  To this day, I never bake the brownies without thinking of this day spent with people so overwhelmed with difficulty.  Their daughter died not long after our visit.

After teaching four years, I moved into a full time homemaker role with the birth of our first child, Bonnie.  After she and her little brother were settled in, I continued in the spirit of both of my grandmothers really, baking cookies and brownies as before now adding sourdough bread making to the baking routine.  That little jar of starter in my refrigerator needed to be fed every week and also used to make bread.  Definitely, my baking repertoire had expanded but my attention was quickly turned back to those wonderful brownies in a rather public way.

Before the demise of suburban journals in our area, every week the North County Journal featured a local cook, running a picture, story and recipe.  I still have a copy of the picture taken in our backyard of me holding a pan of chocolate chip brownies.  A part time writer about my age had come to the house to interview me for the story section of the feature.  As I shared some of “my story” with her, she shared some with me.  She, too, was a young mom home with children about the same age as mine.  She thought of herself as a writer whereas I thought of myself more as a teacher.  However, she encouraged me to check into doing some “stringer” work (freelance writer) for the journal.  And thus my writing “career” (very loose use of the word career) was born—partly because of that delicious chocolate chip brownie recipe.

I did eventually interview with the Journal editor who said her gut told her to “take a chance on a former English teacher” for some human interest stories even though her experiences hiring English teachers had not been positive ones.  Fortunately for both of us, covering some stories went well, and I even stayed in touch with the lady who had interviewed me.  Again, trailing behind a chocolate chip recipe shared in the community, more of a narrative of my life as a teacher continued.

It was actually through a Journal connection that I found out I had a chance for employment at the nearby community college.  I hadn’t even considered looking for part time work there since I did not have a master’s degree.  Another former English teacher working as a stringer for the Journal passed along some materials to me as she handed over her regular feature highlighting various churches in the area.  She was also teaching GED classes at an auto factory nearby through the Continuing Education program at the college.  Following up her tip to seek work opportunities at the school led to my getting an adjunct job teaching developmental English; doing this required only a bachelor’s degree. 

Our children were growing up and life became busier with working and caring for parents with health difficulties.  Baking anything was much lower on the list of priorities.  The sourdough starter bit the dust early on.  But always there were opportunities for those chocolate chip creations, and a very special one evolved after my father had been placed on hospice care and was spending what would be the last few months of his life at a skilled nursing facility.

Dad had retired about 15 years before this, and he had become the chief cook and shopper for my mother and him.  He was not a baker, but he was an appreciator—and lucky recipient—of some of the baking I still did.  So, when I visited him at the nursing facility, I would keep a steady supply of homemade chocolate chips cookies in his room for him to snack on.  Soon he began offering cookies to his hospice nurse, Lana, a wonderful and kind caregiver who had just started working as a hospice nurse.  It became a much-enjoyed ritual for the two of them to have a cookie at the beginning of her frequent visits. Many cookies later, I think they truly came to love one another over the course of those few months.  They were both special people.

Between this time and the next major chocolate chip event some years passed by.  Our daughter graduated from college and came back to St. Louis to work on a master’s degree.  After completing that, she got a job teaching high school history and moved into an apartment with a friend who also got her first teaching job.  Both of them liked to bake and entertain friends and family, and it wasn’t long before Bonnie had breathed new life into the chocolate chip brownie recipe.  She served it to guests and often took it to pot luck gatherings.  This brought the recipe front and center in my life again, and I, too, started making the brownies—always a hit—more often.

Even before looking up the origin of Tollhouse cookies, I was aware that their beginnings were just by chance.  What was first constructed in 1709 as a toll house was purchased by Kenneth and Ruth Wakefield to become a lodge.  The Cape Cod style construction was built as a place to pay tolls, change horses, and enjoy some home-cooked meals for those traveling from Boston to New Bedford, Massachusetts.  The Wakefields thus called it The Tollhouse Inn, and Ruth’s Butter Drop Do cookies became a favorite.  One day she added some bits of a semi-sweet chocolate bar, thinking the chocolate would melt and flavor all the dough.  However, the chocolate didn’t actually melt, thus becoming distinct bits of chocolate in the cookies.  Since people liked them, she kept making them, and the recipe eventually was published in a Boston paper.  Ruth, a clever business woman in her day, brokered a deal with Nestle to put her recipe on its chocolate bar in exchange for a lifetime supply of this now much-in-demand baking item.  In 1939, Nestle started producing the chocolate in chip form for ease in handling.  What began at an Inn now numbers up to 7 billion cookies annually, half of the cookie consumption worldwide.

In a broader sense, the real tollhouse was built with a very important purpose:  in effect, it was a haven for weary travelers.  From its beginning, I would be willing to bet that there was a large portion of love in the service of offering relief for tired folk in days of far more difficult travel.  I would not have called myself a weary traveler in those first encounters with mixing chocolate chip cookies at my grandmother’s.  That identification has come later in life.  But just as love threads through the narrative of chocolate chips in my own life experiences, I imagine hospitality and simple kindness, wonderful and ageless Christian virtues, were offered with those necessary services at that early tollhouse which later became The Tollhouse Inn.

"Hearing" the rain

            Several years ago, my husband and I went to St. Louis’s Shakespeare festival in Forest Park, site of the 1904 World’s Fair.  Honestly, I do not remember which play was to be performed that night, but what I do remember is the terrible storm that hit about 7:55 pm, just minutes before the main attraction of the evening was to begin.  We had attended previous productions at this wonderful outdoor setting, but on this night, we had brought an orphaned teenage girl who struggled with some serious problems and lived in a group home not far from our house.  She definitely had not been to anything like what this evening would present to her.

            The weather forecast for the night had not looked promising, and the coming storm loomed ever closer.  Still, we sat on the grass waiting until the wind started blowing rather fiercely, and the threatening skies began to pour rain.  We raced for the car and watched the impressive lightening display fill the skies all the way home.  I had not been “caught” in a storm of that severity for quite some time.

            That night, it didn’t require psychic abilities—or arthritic symptoms-- to know that rain was on the way; the evidence of the coming storm was all around us.  However, the approaching rain was not something we heard until it actually started pouring.  This seems to be the way rain works; once it begins in small or large quantities, the sound it makes announces its arrival.

            Something different is described in the story of Elijah, the prophet, in the Old Testament.  God had informed Elijah before the dramatic encounter with the prophets of Baal that there would be rain in Israel:  “Go, present yourself to Ahab, and I will send rain on the earth” (1 Kings 18:1).  After Elijah won the “contest” with the false prophets, he turned to King Ahab and said, “Go up, eat and drink; for there is the sound of abundance of rain” (1 Kings18:41).  Continuing with this assurance, the prophet prayed, asking his servant to go check the sky for clouds seven times.  God had revealed his plan about three years of draught and then rain coming, so Elijah had no doubt as to what God’s will was in this matter.  Still, he had to pray seven times, and he had to believe the rain would come just as God had told him.

            Recently, in this tale of Elijah and his expectation of God’s promised rain, I have become aware of another insight into the work of God and the faith that “sees” the end God has in mind before the physical manifestation of that end actually comes to pass.  Nearing the part of the chapter describing the persevering prayer for rain by this very tested and proven man of God, Elijah says that he hears “the sound of an abundance of rain.”  This must be a profession of faith—there are no clouds, there is no real sound of any rain falling at the moment he makes this remark.  In effect, Elijah is saying, “I believe God will do what He has told me about His plans.”

So, the question for us today seems to be, “Are we listening, are we seeking God and wanting to know what good plans He might have to work in our own lives in our own times?”  Surely, we live in a world that very much needs to see miraculous demonstrations of the compassion and love God has for all of us.  If God has not changed—and the Bible clearly states He has not (“He never changes or casts shifting shadows” James 1:17 NLT)—then we should expect Him to reveal glimpses of His good plans and then supernaturally give us the faith to believe these things will happen just as He has said they would.

            About 300 prophecies of the coming of Jesus, our Savior, can be found in the Bible.   For example, He was “born of a virgin;” He “carried away” our iniquities and infirmities, thus becoming the promised Messiah.  God is, indeed, the same, revealing to listening hearts the good He would like to do for each one of us.  May God help us to be better listeners and to be more earnestly prayerful people who persevere in our petitions until the expected answers arrive—just as Elijah persevered until God’s words became rain-producing clouds.   May each of us take the time to seek God and “hear” His plans and promises, and then, to truly believe.      

It's in not with

               Despite the fact that I am the former English teacher, it is my husband who can still recite a list of prepositions he learned in high school.  What a show-off!  No matter how many we can list, it is important to know that although prepositions are usually small words, they can make a big difference in the grammar of the sentence and its meaning.

               As I did a lesson for a Bible study group that explores how Christ is “in” us, I was reminded of the importance of trying to more fully appreciate His living presence as described in the New Testament.  According to John’s account, Jesus told his disciples that it was to their advantage that He would be going away.  He spoke of “the Helper” and promised them this:  “I will pray the Father, and He will give you another Helper . . . the Spirit of truth . . . for He dwells with you and will be in you” John 14:16,17).  Note two different prepositions and two different verb tenses for us to pay attention to (spoken like a true English teacher). 

               In the Old Testament, God presented Himself as the presence that would be with His people.  In Exodus 33:14, God made an important statement and promise to Moses, saying “My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.”  A source of encouragement, comfort and guidance was revealed to Moses, and God was faithful to “speak” His word.  Sometimes, people, even His chosen people, were not as good about listening.

               When Jesus referenced this living presence as already dwelling with His people, it was very significant that He added that this same God who had accompanied them and led them would now come in some new way to live “in them.”  I’m sure I would have been wondering what Jesus meant by changing those little prepositions.

               At meal time, we often ask one another, “What do you want to drink with dinner?”  Once a choice is made, that beverage is placed next to our plate.  We might be having water or soda or perhaps a more potent liquid, but whatever it is, it becomes what we are having with our dinner.  For the drink, especially water, to do us any good nutritionally, it must be consumed, thus getting in us.  Only in us, can it possibly nourish our physical bodies.  In fact, we cannot live too long without drinking water.  It is part of our very life once taken in.

               For many Christians, communion offers a way for Christ’s living presence to be taken inside of us.  It happens by faith when we purposely anticipate and receive the life this sacrament makes available to us.  In my own life, I have been trying to be more focused on taking in Christ as the “living water” and “bread of life” when I have prayer time.  I think part of anything in the faith life is about wanting and seeking God, earnestly desiring in some way to take more of Him inside our spiritual beings. 

               One of the questions in my Bible lesson asks, “What does it mean to you that Christ lives in your inner being?”  My answer, which I didn’t carefully think out, actually caught my attention with its simple wording.  “It (His presence) is a well of living water, an immeasurable resource above all others.”  May we all more purposely and frequently seek to partake of the living nourishment of the Holy Spirit that God has so richly provided for us to dine on.  It is to be in, not with.   

Keys, Freely Given

            Let’s just say I wrote a “self-fulfilling prophecy” into an email to our son right before    we made the recent transition to a new cable provider.  My exact words were, “I hope the change does not become a big hassle.”  May I suggest you avoid such statements, written or spoken, on the verge of any changes. 

            The cable technician told my husband and me that we could keep the old email address, so we did not send out emails about any coming change.  The old account worked for about a week, and in the short space of five minutes, Jim successfully used the account, and then I could no longer get into it.  Suddenly, we had no access to what we needed.

            A few weeks ago, Jim and I visited a weekly worship and prayer gathering here in North County.  The speaker talked about a well-known text, focusing on what Jesus says about building His church and giving his followers the “keys of the kingdom” (Mat. 16:19).  He then talked about keys and what they provide to us, emphasizing that keys give us access.  Despite the fact that I am familiar with this passage, I know there is more to understand and learn here.

            The word “access” and how it works popped into my mind the minute I could no longer get into our old email account.  Not having access disabled the account for our use, and we could not, in any way, “get to” the emails therein.  On the other hand, having access had provided immediate use of the account and the features it provided.   

            I have found more to consider on this subject of keys to the kingdom.  On a recent Sunday at our daughter’s church in Illinois, I heard a message referring to Jesus’s directions in Luke 12:31,32:  “But seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added to you.  Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”  These words followed Jesus’s discussion on what his listeners worry about having, things like food, clothing, and even our lives.  His words move us toward what is really important as He says “seek first the kingdom of God.”

            In Jesus’s secret meeting with Nicodemus, He tells him that “unless one is born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3).  Jesus explains that we can’t “see” this kingdom of another realm than our worldly existence and what our human senses tell us.  Just two verses later, he adds,  “unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.”  Just like we are born physically, we must be born spiritually to have “access” to (enter) this kingdom.  And then Jesus makes our entry into this kingdom even clearer when He says, “I am the way, the truth and the life.  No one comes to the Father but through Me” (John 6:6).

Our world today is flooded with “how to” books, messages, and exhortations on many subjects.  It is appealing to think we can follow three steps or more to reach some desirable end.  Many book titles even begin with the words “How to . . . “ and thousands of books are probably purchased every day by people wanting to obtain whatever the book examines.  Even Christian books and teachings present steps and how-to’s, including what I am presently reading,  How to Experience Revival,  by Charles Finney.  On its cover, Finney is described as “the most noteworthy nineteenth-century apostle of revival.”  I expect to learn about Finney and his times and experience by reading this book, but surely bringing revival will require more than reading a book.  

Jesus gives us these keys to the kingdom.  To build His church, we need to discover what they actually are and how they are to work in the lives of Christian people—or perhaps more accurately, how they are supposed to work in our lives .  Considering Jesus’s own ministry, I see He did not deal uniformly with people asking for His help.  Sometimes, He blessed them by commending their faith and telling them to go and be well.  Sometimes, He commanded demons out of some poor tormented soul.  Sometimes, He even prayed more than one time for the healing needed, such as for the blind man whose vision was progressively restored (Mark 8:22-25).  There is not a step- by- step or “one size fits all” in Jesus’s ministry, and there is not supposed to be in ours, either.

Jesus talked about being born again and gaining access to His Father’s kingdom through faith in Him.  Often He spoke of the Christian life as being one of searching and seeking and having constant union with Him and His life-giving Spirit.  He credited His Father with working in and through Him to accomplish the Father’s work--real kingdom work--and He points us to the same dynamic, a living connection with a living Lord who will lead us and guide us “step by step” and day by day.