29 of 101: chaff and beans

jenn was the one who opened our eyes to this possibility: of roasting one’s coffee at home. the brilliance of this idea seemed self-evident: it’s thrifty, it’s a unique hobby, and it’s product is delicious. so, after reading up about it a bit at Sweet Maria’s, we decided to give it a go, which is why i put it on my 101 in 1001 list.

a little while later, while browsing at St. Vinnie’s, i came across THE recommended air popcorn popper for home-roasting coffee. so, for $6.50, i bought it home and set it on the shelf next to the ice cream maker.

but it was months before i finally ordered the green beans. they came on friday afternoon, and all day saturday and most of today we thought with wistful romanticism about what it would be like to roast our first batch of beans. but, i felt nervous. would i burn it or otherwise mar it? would it stink up the entire apartment? would the colander i had on hand for cooling work, even though it’s not aluminum?

but because we were completely out of coffee, and i couldn’t bear the thought of starting my monday morning san caffeine, i decided i had no choice but to take the plunge.

tim hovered nearby, the delight of a fascinated child dominating his facial features. we watched as the fluffy beige chaff separated from the beans and floated into the bowl under the popper’s spout. we marveled at the spinning beans, propelled by hot air alone. and we were amazed to see the color turn from pale green to deep brown in under 6 minutes.

now, these beans are cooling in the colander in the open kitchen window. and in the morning we will have what is perhaps the freshest cup of coffee we’ve had to date.

8 of 101: family in the pitt

t’s closest [in age] brother ben and his wife lisa live in pittsburgh because ben is a ph.d student at carnegie-mellon. last year they gave birth to their first child, sophia. and because we were so sad that we had not been able to come when she was born, we decided that to come for the occasion of her first birthday was absolutely necessary.

we splurged on a pair of plane tickets out of milwaukee, which got us to pittsburgh in a small fraction of the time it would have taken to drive.

i love pittsburgh. i love how, after passing through a mountain tunnel, you emerge on the other side to see the tangle of rivers and bridges and buildings spreading between and up the edges of towering hills. i love its gritty facades, and its unpretentious awesomeness. i love its history and its comeback. i loved it then, and this trip confirmed that i also love it now.

and being with ben and lisa in their home, their neighborhood, their friendships, and their church, was a delight. over the course of the weekend, we:

• attended sophia’s first birthday party
• had a walk at frick park
• went out for ethiopian food
• ate delicious vegetarian cuisine on the patio
• sunned ourselves in the backyard
• saw sophia dedicated to God at church
• had long talks on cozy couches
• visited the phipp conservatory

i have said it before, and i will probably say it again: i hit the jackpot with my siblings-in-law. ben and lisa are objectively wonderful people; i don’t have to say that simply because i married into the family. and having them, and the others, as my brothers and sisters means years of delightful family vacations and holidays to look forward to.

ps: for more photos, you can visit this album, or this one.

baby cake

december 28, 2009 — we get pregnant while home in michigan for christmas.

january 16, 2010 — we find out that we are pregnant, in our bathroom, in the morning.

march 2, 2010 — i endure a miscarriage, in our bathroom, in the evening, when i am 11 weeks along.

this is not a long time-line, but it doesn’t require a very long time at all to start to love a life, no matter how tiny and incomplete, once it has been planted in you.

we named our unborn baby “Cake,” as in “babycakes!”, an expression we often use. besides, everyone loves Cake.

deciding to conceive a baby was a response to an invitation that we sensed God was offering, through the tugs on our heart-strings, a few prophetic words, and a desire to throw ourselves on Him for provision. so, when we got pregnant after only one “try,” i wasn’t surprised. it seemed so consistent with the speedy way God has worked in our shared life thus far; and such quick conception seemed like confirmation that we had discerned rightly in deciding to make a baby.

so, naturally we started to plan, and to work out health care concerns and save for maternity leave. we found a midwife and decided on a home birth. we told our nearest friends and family that we were expecting and enjoyed the genuine celebration that ensued. i ordered and faithfully took prenatal vitamins.  i even bought a couple small items of baby wear. my mom sent a Belly Book for me to keep a chronicle of my pregnancy. i ate more than usual, and more protein, even when i didn’t feel like it, to feed Cake. and many nights we would lay our hands on my womb and pray for our baby. at some point, i started to write letters to Cake, too, about what was going on, about what i hoped for her life, about how much i wanted for her to know jesus. i started being a mama.

i guess that part of the reason it is so painful to lose a baby, even this early, is precisely because you’ve already started to be a mommy to that baby. you change your diet, cut off certain commitments in order to get rest, and begin to plan out a life that will be safe and warm for that little one when she enters the world. you start to make all your decisions based around how she will be effected. so you fight for her. from day one.

which makes you pretty invested.

so we grieve. yes, we grieve for the lost life of a would-be baby, even as we grieve for the loss of one who has breathed. and this is not silly or irrational. it is very real.

and that grief, for me, has swallowed my entire body. in fact, it was physical before it was emotional or cognitive. a weariness, an aching emptiness, and a lack of interest in eating or doing much of anything else. and some days i keep repeating silently, “i am not pregnant. i am not going to have a baby. my baby has died.” and this feels more miserable than i know how to say.

i have lots of unanswered questions, about the physical and spiritual aspects of why such a sad thing happens. there is a high level of mystery around this that i deeply want to unravel, but never can. this will have to be okay.

but here is what i know: the Father is very, very near. it’s hard to say things like this without them sounding trite, but in all sincerity, He has let me FEEL His nearness in this in a very special way. even at the worst moments of the miscarriage process, i simply knew that He was there. i was not alone. and this has made more difference that i even suspected that it could.

and t… he has been perfect in comfort, companionship, and co-grieving. i love him approximately 3x more than i did before all of this. and that is a lot. Cake, in her fleeting existence, made us into a mother and a father, knitted our hearts even closer together, and turned our eyes to jesus.

and we are so grateful.