A GREAT READ: THE SHACK by William P. Young

Mackenzie Allen Phillip’s youngest daughter, Missy, has been abducted during a family vacation and evidence that she may have been brutally murdered is found in an abandoned shack deep in the Oregon wilderness. Four years later, in the midst of his Great Sadness, Mack receives a suspicious note, apparently from God, inviting him back to that shack for a weekend.

Against his better judgment he arrives at the shack on a wintry afternoon and walks back into his darkest nightmare. What he finds there will change Mack’s world forever.

In a world where religion seems to grow increasingly irrelevant THE SHACK wrestles with the time less question: Where is God in a world so filled with unspeakable pain? The answers Mack gets will astound you and perhaps transform you as much as it did him.

Blurb on back of the book

Lynelle’s thoughts:

If you never go to church but have a bone to pick with God then this book is must read for you.

Very few people live without grappling at some point with an experience that brings great sadness. Your sorrow may be similar to Mack’s or totally different. If you are still struggling and held captive by your great sadness you will find help in removing it forever.

I personally relate to Mack’s amazing journey because long ago God took my sadness and began turning it into joy. It isn’t a done project but I know who holds my hand during life’s storms.

Mack’s delightful encounters with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are presented through relationship stories that are lively and unforgettable.

I especially enjoyed Mack’s closeness to Jesus and his difficulty in accepting God. The portion of the book where Jesus interacts with children is priceless. I draw strength for the intriguing way he shares with the Holy Spirit.

Water, water everywhere!

You know it rained…a LOT. We continue to be amazed at the volume of water that runs through River Myst Haven during this time of year. Our year-round spring and small creek becomes a torrent, and rock-lined drainage ditches become mini rapids. Even more impressive than the volume is the force the water exerts on the earth—temporary “springs” and seepage spots pop up throughout the grounds, and new contours are cut into the earth, with soil and rock being shifted here and there.

But it’s also very beautiful, and the sounds of the flowing water are (of course) wonderfully calming.

The lesson for me is the power of nature and the need to be patient. It’s very difficult to stop the water, and sometimes as quickly as we clean up after it, it’s raining again.

So, the mindful thing to do is to respect these forces as part of the natural processes that surround us and remember that things are refreshed and revived, ground water is replenished, and the flora thrive.

Wolf moon…

Picture credit goes to: www.space.com

I do love the cycles of the moon, and I have become obsessed with the names and mythology connected to the moon at different times of year. The full moon that we just had at the end of January is known as the “Wolf Moon” —and was biggest and brightest full moon of the year. The name is connected with Native American culture and the belief that hungry wolves howled at the moon on cold winter nights. Each month brings another full moon name.

Though cloudy and overcast, the brightness of the moon gave a wonderful and ethereal glow that night.

Signs of transition, emergence…

I did take advantage of the clearer weather this past week to work outside a bit—weeding, cultivating, seeding wildflowers, reworking bulbs, harvesting winter veggies (slow grown chard & kale greens have a wonderful, intense flavor that is remarkably satisfying).

Exceptionally rewarding. The remarkable thing to me is seeing up close how much life the soil has at this time of year. So many plants are beginning to sprout and emerge, the trees are forming buds for flowers, bulbs are breaking through the soil (some flowering already!).

I can’t help but realize that even during the seeming dormancy of winter, there is so much happening around us. It helps me keep important perspective—even when things seem slow moving or barely changing, there is much happening, and new potential and rebirth, re-emergence is occurring all around us.

I’m so excited to be connected to this though the beauty of RMH, and I love nothing more than helping other’s connect with it also. Soon it will be time to get the seed starts going for early spring veggies and flowers, and, in honor of Ingrid (now in Argentina for three months), I’ll be trying tomatoes in the green house.

It’s still the new year!!!

~Timothy

Southwest Cooking Experience at RMH

I recently heard someone say, “You people in San Francisco would eat a plate of spiders if someone said it was organic, local and humanely raised.” That’s probably true, and we’d pay a premium for it. But this “food movement” is more than pretension, for me and my dear friends and chefs, it is a deep commitment to respect our part in a complex, dynamic world. Organic is good for all of us, when it makes sense. Animals deserve to be treated with respect, particularly when we are going to use them as a food source. But what I often disdain amidst the fervor of foodies is the loss of joy in joining around food in celebration and gratitude. As a wise acupuncturist said to me once when I turned up my nose at his suggestion that I need to eat meat, “All food is God’s food.”

In December at RMH, we the Two Sisters taught an eager crowd of cooks and eaters how to concoct a New Mexican feast for the holidays. As the rain poured and the resident peacock hovered closely, a dozen people crowded around bubbling yeast and scorching oil, whirring blenders full of sauces and spicy peels of chile flesh to create a meal that warmed our bellies with food and laughter. We went local, we attempted organic, but most importantly we set our intention on celebration and gratitude.

My sister Kristine wowed the crowd with a demonstration on how to build Enchiladas Christmas. I shared my passion about New Mexican cooking and how it differs from TexMex or Mexican food—“It’s the chiles,” I told them. Our eager students learned how to make both red and green chile sauces—equally as central to New Mexican food as butter is to French food. The teams of student cooks masterfully laid out three pans of Enchiladas Christmas (chicken and cheese enchiladas with red and green chile sauce) and put them in the oven until they bubbled and browned. Others rolled out the dough for sopapillas, the puffy fried bread traditionally served with the spicy food of New Mexico. We mixed batches of delicious red and white sangria made from wine grown next door at Moshin Vinyards.

As we sat at the table amidst piles of enchiladas and warm honey and sopapillas, I stepped back and took a moment to recall and thank all those that made this possible: the cows, the chickens, the farmers, the truck drivers that move it all around, the magic of RMH, the bugs that add their own special touch, and that most important organic ingredient—love. It was a truly magical New Mexican moment!

~Ingrid

Editor’s note: Ingrid is our dear friend and a delightful and warm person, and we were honored to have her and her sister Kristine at RMH for this class. We’re posting this blog entry well after the class as she wrote it in the midst of whirlwind preparations for travels to Argentine for 3 months. By her own admission, she is truly a gypsy of travel. We will miss her but look forward to her return in May with stories of wonderful experiences and culinary adventures. We wish her well and safe travels. You can catch up with her at her blog.