Grooving with The Groves

It was a cold, blustery night in Portland exactly one year ago. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, which threatened my dinner plans because of the little grape of a Dodge Neon I was driving... but I made it. Over the river and through the 'burbs to the southeast side I went for a pho-licious dinner with a new(ish) friend.

Before I continue, I'd like to take a moment to back up and give you some history. For the sake of brevity (and trust me, this could be WAY longer), I'll limit it to bullet points. Paragraphical bullet points... and I promise they eventually tie together.

• In 2008, I met the above dinner date friend (Sunia) and her husband (Paul) on recommendation of another friend (Lori, who I am sure will be highlighted in blogs to come). My previous knowledge about them was 1) They were musicians 2) They came to Portland from the midwest to plant a church and 3) I'd really like them. It was kind of like a first date in the sense that you're trying to get to know the person in a very limited amount of time and all the while wonder if that other person likes you.
• Also in 2008, I started getting involved with a Portland community Bible study. (the same community group that led me to baking my first wedding cake, holla!)
• Fast forward to the very end of 2009. God started stirring things in my heart (as He does quite often). This time it was a sense of major change... and as you might have read from a previous post, I hate change. Especially change in a lifelong thing, like the place I attend church. I had been attending the same wonderful place my whole life, and while it's no big thing for a lot of people... it IS a big thing for me. It's hard to understand why a good thing needs to come to an end... and it would take an act of God to move me. So while it was uncomfortable, I started visiting other churches once every six weeks or so in hopes that God would show me the way. It kind of felt like going to the doctor. I didn't really enjoy it, but I knew it was the right thing for me to do.
• 2010 rolls around and as a result of my community group, I decide to organize a coffee shop concert in March to raise funds for Convoy of Hope's relief efforts in Haiti... appropriately entitled Hope for Haiti. I found a mix of local musicians, including (wait for it...) Paul & Sunia! They, along with two other musicians from the church they had planted, graced the shop with skillfully crafted tunes of hope, love & justice. I liked them. A lot... but from afar.
• Fast forward to the end of the summer, and I got a facebook message. (You were waiting to see how long it would take for me to start name dropping social network sites, huh?) It was from Sunia and she was asking me how I felt about putting together another benefit concert, this time for Pakistan. We called it Portland for Pakistan (I like alliteration, don't judge me) and set it for October. I was intrigued by this and decided I was interested in these people.
• Labor Day rolls around and of course that means BBQ time! Lo & behold my worlds collide and my Bible study people fuse with the people from this church plant (as a few of the Bible studiers overlapped with the church). I had a good convo with Paul about the church and what they were all about. I'm not sure if he knew I was secretly interviewing him. Heck, I don't know if I knew I was secretly interviewing him! After that I decided it was high time I checked these people out.
• So began my church dating relationship. We (me and the church) would "see each other" every three weeks or so. I was totally crushing but never would admit it. Come on now, I'm a lady! Plus, like I said, it would take a big thing for me to make a real commitment. I would bring friends with me every once in a while too to get their opinion (I guess you could equate it to having friends meet a boyfriend in hopes that they'll give you insight on whether he's a keeper or not). While people gave me the green light, I still wasn't convinced. And I guess that's okay. This is just how I am. My prayer life regarding this matter often would include questions like "God, I know You're moving me somewhere. Where?!" Aside from when I visited the Sunday service, I feel like I often would run into the church peeps at events & celebrations. Until one day, Sunia suggested we actually hang out. This brings me back to the beginning of this post... (goodbye, bullet points!)

We sat there slurping away and sharing bits about one another, vision, purpose, Portland, Jesus and how it all meshes... and stuff. Halfway through our dinner, Sunia said something to me. Something she promises she'd never said before. "I want to you pray & consider being a part of our church community". I am pretty sure I didn't really have much of a response, because I like to try and keep my thoughts and emotions at a simmer. But something sparked in me. Later that night and in the weeks to come I prayed harder and considered what was spoken so blatantly. I'd ask God "That's so strange! Why would she say that?" or "Can you believe that? God, that's so weird!" and I almost feel like God was looking back at me with eyebrows raised, like "Child, please. Are you serious?". But thank God for His patience and grace. If I were God, I'd have slapped my face. But He worked with my timing issues. He spoke sweetly to my soul and surrounded me with the right people to help a sista' out.

All that to say, I go to a church called The Groves. This post isn't even the "why" it's the "how", and seriously... even if I'm the only one, I'm amazed. Because it's totally not in my nature to be here. And there's no doubt in my heart and mind that God made this happen. God took randomness and made sense of it. The places I've been and the life I've lived are all a part of where I am today, churchiness and non-churchiness. The church I came from is a beautiful part of the story and where I go will be part of it as well. He took the bullet points of my days, the seemingly disconnected things, and brought them together. He does this with everything in our lives. He takes what we have, what He's given us... He takes what we see and can't see... and weaves it into a lovely little piece of art, which is our lives.

People say "when you know, you know"... and I guess it's not just true for lovers. 'Cause this is church... and while it took a few good God-nudges, I knew. God knew. He has me right where He wants me. He brought me here.

Treasures & Transformation

Change is not something I embrace, to say the least. It's been traced all the way back to me in the womb, as I was two weeks overdue. I mean, really, who naturally wants to leave the comfort and warmth of familiarity? So this way of being has carried through most of my entire existence. When changes come, I hold on for dear life. (I'm sure you'll see this echoed in blogs to come.) And while change isn't what I gravitate towards, I've learned that there are times when I just can't help but move. Why? Well, simply put. Because of God. He guides me... and while it's still tough, it gets easier as I come to grips with the fact that my life, in fact, is not my own. You know what else? Just because we move on from something, doesn't mean that what we left was necessarily a bad thing. It simply means it's time to move on to something different. Holding onto something that needs to be released is kind of like holding onto a banana. It's great at first and serves a purpose... but after a while, it gets rotten.

I wrote the following a year and ten days ago... and little did I know, the next year of life would prove, yet again, that this is truth! I thought it would be appropriate to re-publish it (and then some) on this newly formed bloggeroony.

One Man's Treasure, Another Man's Trash

One man's treasure, another man's trash-- I know, what a negative thing to say! But it's really it's not all that pessimistic, instead it's a matter of pride & perspective. 

Sometimes we cling to things that are kind of worthless. We pull a "Smeagol"... walking around and guarding our own little "precious" and all the while destroying ourselves. Then reality hits. Yes, the God-send of a person (or people) we have in our lives who is not afraid to let us know that our jewel is actually a cigarette butt. 

We hoard things... things that are actually quite useless. I might see a person, possession or situation through the prettiest of all  lenses. In reality, I have no business holding on to even the thought of it. I see a hotdog covered in relish & all the fixings. Blinded by my desperation for something... ANYTHING... I think it's the best thing for me when really there's a fabulous rib eye just beyond that silly little wienie. Why am I holding onto something that has no real value for my life?

OR!! What about this? One man's treasure is another man's treasure. "Whoa!", right? But I should say it more like "one man's "treasure", another man's TREASURE". We all live different lives and because we're human, nothing's perfect. A lot of times we think we've got things figured out only to have our world rocked. Can I get a witness?

We hold onto things that do not belong to us. Sometimes we live vicariously through someone else... whether it's realized or not. Holding onto the thought of something affects everything about us. The moment we look at another and wish their circumstances were ours, we've made their treasure our faux treasure. Do you see the problem? It's not ours! Or perhaps at a point in time, these things used to be our own. I wish I knew why things come and go... good things! God only knows the reason why people and circumstances ever enter the picture of our lives, and we have to be okay with not ever knowing the answer to the ever-haunting "why".

Every plan I made for me is gone in light of Him... Holding tightly onto these things, its worth now fades when I see all that He does. I've had enough of me; I give up. I want this to be my mindset. Giving up control is the first step. Change is something that will happen... voluntarily or not. How we react and proceed will determine the rest. I want to embrace the changes God brings my way and run in such a way that makes Him glow. 

Living in the treasures of yesterday will do us no favors. We've got to move ahead. I've got to move. And as we take those steps towards change, we'll be transformed into something even more beautiful. 

It's hard, but I believe totally possible. 

Oh Crepe!

I've literally had a crepe three weekends in a row. I know! What the crepe?! The first was with two lovely ladies at a yummy creperie on 23rd. The second was with two new friends at the carts at the Saturday market (on Sunday... yea I know, what?). The third was this morning with a sweet peach of a friend at Chez Machin. All three were pretty much a delight!

I mean come on, what's not to love about a crepe?! It's the perfect ratio of starch to filling. And I just love the fillings... oh the possibilities! Savory... sweet... veggie... meat. That rhymed. It's neat how something with the same "shell" can taste so different when the insides are changed up a bit here and there. A dollop of creme fraiche turns it into a luscious treat. A sprinkle of feta takes you to the mediterranean. Really, I could go on... however I'll spare you (but, just know, that in my head I'm still going).

I was pondering the crepe and all it's goodness. And God spoke to me.

If you look at a crepe (pre-filling) they all are the same. They're thin little pancakes made from the simplest ingredients... cooked to perfection by a watchful maker. Now let's just say all plated & filled crepes came unadorned. Well then, in such case they all look the same from a distance. But once you cut into them and take a bite, you see what they're made of. I imagine crepes have the capability of tasting gross too. There are not many foods that I dislike, but what if I filled a crepe with mayonaise, mustard & jam? It might look pretty with all the bright colors happening, but the moment you sink your chompers into that... oh man. And no, this is not an Iron Chef Challenge to see how good you can make those things taste when combined. Just take it for what it is. Here's a hint... it's gross.

I think humans are a lot like crepes. We're born into this creperie of a world. But as we grow, we're each filled with our own unique fillings. We're all walking around, doing our thing, living our lives. We experience things that shape us. Not every situation is in our control, but at the same time our reactions are! These reactions to what we live through produces fruit in us. These are the things that make us either a savory cheese filled wonder, a hearty bite of goodness, a berry sweet treat... or a mayo-mustard jam of disgust. Our "filling" is what gives us our flava'... and we either taste good... or the alternative. But trust me when I say that there is hope for the MMJ crepe out there... 'cause there's always the possibility of doctoring & transforming any mess of ingredients to make it much more palatable!

Yup. We're totally like crepes!

What's In A Name?

It's no secret that my sisters and I have nicknames for one another. Emphasis on the pluralization. There are some nicknames that are used merely a handful of times, and others that are used with quite a bit more frequency. The derivation comes from various sources, whether it's a middle name, a play on a first name, an event, a rhyme, or even a high school crush. The possibilities are endless! I'll give you some real-life examples.

My sister, Shauna, has a plethora of nicknames. In a given sentence I might call her a couple of the names. On a regular basis, I will refer to her as Shauncy... this came from a little preschool boy my mother used to teach Sunday School to a long time ago. Another is Nazanene... a long form of Nazzie, which came from Lazzie, which is the nickname of Shaunc's twin sister... and well, they're twins so matching nicknames are where it's at, right?? Nikko is also a name you'll hear her being called. Where did that come from? I'm not exactly sure. But the unspoken rule with her nicknames is that if starts with an "N" it's usually her nickname.

But more important than a nickname is a person's name name. A name is like a given birthmark... it's  a part of who a person is! Almost like the label that goes on a package.

When I was little, I didn't like my name. I thought it was weird. It was different and I didn't understand its meaning. To a little girl, what does "Of Good Character" mean anyway?! All I knew about the word "character" was associated with Disney or looney toons. I remember wanting a "normal" name like my friends at school. I wanted cool name plates & pencils with my name on it. Plus, it's not the most fun thing in the world when nearly every person you meet can't pronounce your name. Role call at school was pretty much the same year to year. The teacher would go down the list and I always knew when my name was about to be called, because there was a bit of a pause as the poor teacher (who was used to Saras and Joeys) had to attempt this new name. And yes, it carried into college. As I grew older, I got used to it and stopped correcting people. I allowed them to call me whatever interpretation of "Sunita" they could pronounce. It was kind of like a little game... for my entertainment only (I must say, one of my favorites was a guy calling me "Santini"... I'm still confused as to how he ever came to that pronunciation... in such cases, I just smile & nod).

I used to work at a bank, and that was certainly an experience in the name game, especially since I started out at a branch that was in a retirement area. Lots of Ethels & Henrys. However there was a sweet little old woman that would come through the drive through every now and then and make conversation with me. One day she asked me my name. I told her and she asked me to write it on her receipt. I think a month went by and she came through again. At the end of the transaction she handed me this...

I was pretty amazed. First off, because she found something with my name. Second, it had a radical, fresh take on the definition of my name. And thirdly, the verse is seriously something that I need reminders of daily... hourly... minutely. That was about six years ago. And as you can see, I still have it. It's by my bedside.

I don't know that I live up to my name as much as I should. But I do know that God has allowed me to have such a name for a purpose. I hope and pray by His grace that I can do it justice. Thanks to mis padres for giving me a unique name. They actually thought they made it up... and it turns out to be a real name... a real Indian name! I can't believe they did that! I'm the only one in my family with a really Indian name. Isn't that crazy?! Good crazy though.

I don't have kids, but I imagine one day the task of naming my son or daughter will be one of the greatest (and kinda freaky) honors EVER! After all, I'm essentially "branding" my baby!

What's in a name? A lot. Truth. Power. Identity. What does your name mean? And what does it mean to you? Like with products, the brand describes the product... but the product also helps define the brand. Your name not only shapes who you are... but you essentially shape the meaning of your name as well!

That's a big responsibility... a really beautiful one.

I Dream of Wedding Cake

I am a list person. I make lists almost everyday. Sometimes I make multiple lists in a day. I love outlining and planning and most of all checking things off! There's just something so satisfying about placing a check-mark beside an accomplished task. Sometimes I'll even write down something I got done that wasn't originally on my list, and then check it off with added flare, simply 'cause it feels so good!

A few months after the initial shock of turning 25, I decided to make a list of things I wish to do in the next 25 years of my life. The list holds monumental goals (like getting married or something craaaazy like that) as well as more fluid & continual goals (like growing in my artistry & such). One of the things I added to the list was one I envisioned happening in the latter part of my next 25 years. Make a Wedding Cake.

Little did I know, my goal would be reached over the course of my next year... three fold! (side note: I enjoy seeing how a couple's cake reflects them in some way, shape, or form... or taste!)

The first time I was asked, I was pretty amazed. Heck, all three times I was shocked. But the first time was like a punch unaware. A really sweet punch. Like a fruit punch!! It was for a fellow & his fiancee-to-be (for they had not even gotten engaged when I was asked!) in my community that I had grown to love and appreciate very much over the years. It was during my time with this community that my baking really flourished, so it was very fitting that my first wedding cake was for someone within that group. 

Now I don't know how you feel about it, but making a wedding cake is kind of a crazy experience... at least to me. It's not your typical easy-bake-oven-40-minute-stress-coping-mechanism. It's a process. A long one. I am still surprised that I said yes. More often than not, if a task seems even the tiniest bit beyond my capabilities, I treat the offer as though someone's offering me drugs and I just say no. But I think it was a combo of the list I had recently made along with the encouraging community I was surrounded by that compelled me to say yes.

So after hours and days and months of research I decided this puppy needed a trial run. So I had an open house shindig, which I appropriately dubbed "Let's Eat Cake!" I literally invited everyone on my facebook friend list to come over and eat cake. And the people came!! I was only left with a few pieces left, which were consumed by more cake lovers the following day.

("Let's Eat Cake!" Party... Bottom- chocolate peanut butter, Middle- cookies & cream, Top- champagne with raspberry and french butter cream)

Once I had my practice round, I was ready for the real deal. And let me just say that the toughest part about making a cake like this is the transportation. Every bump makes me wince and when I open the box at my destination I hold my breath. This one made it all the way to the coast... thankfully in one piece (well, technically three tiers... but later put together in one piece!)

 (I know it's a ghetto pic, but I really wasn't thinking to take a picture of it until I was already seated far, far away. Champagne cake with raspberry... so festive for a wedding!)

After checking that off my to-do list, I felt pretty good. But then!! Dun, dun, dunnnnn... I was asked again by another friend. This time double the guests. So this baby popped out (along with a sheet cake).

 (My first baking endeavor with foliage... their colors were fun! Plus we used their family's homemade raspberry jam in one of the fillings!)

And while this task was a bit more exhausting, physically... I was so excited to be a part of my friend's celebration in a yummy way!! That's pretty much the only thing that kept me going. And the fact that I couldn't really just show up without the cake. What kind of wedding would that be?!

Just when I thought it was time to hang up my baker's hat, a life long friend married his bodacious bride... and I got to make their cake!! Had you told me as a child that I'd be making the wedding cake for the boy who played Moses in the church musical, I probably would have stared at you and then laughed nervously (like I always did as a shy Indian child... I still do).

(I love the ribbon that the bride chose for this cake! Plus the pumpkin cake & cream cheese filling and dark chocolate mocha filled cakes... yum!)

The gifts & skills we have may not make a whole lot of sense at a given time, but every now and then the desires of our heart paired with our abilities super-align with the life surrounding us and things happen, almost out of the blue. We don't realize what's going on until we're in the thick of it. We take pictures because it's our passion and people smile at our work. We bake 'cause we love it and enjoy sharing it with those we love. We dance because we can't sit still. As long as we're using what we have, I think we're in a good place. You can't move forward unless you're moving to begin with. So move! Use those gifts. Bake that cake! Sing that song! Paint that wall! And when more opps arise, refrain from discrediting yourself immediately... ponder it, and if it sits right with you... DO IT! You never know what will come of it all.

I often joke about "how old" I am, but seriously it's so neat that I was given such an opportunity in the baking realm so early in life. The really cool thing is that I actually said yes and did them. That is a big deal. I'm glad it happened.

I'm super thankful & humbled by it all. Viva los pasteles!!