Time. Focus. Carrots.

Part of my weekly responsibilities at PCC include listening to the message as Brian works on it during the week. We film for the Westchester campus in the middle of the week, and I try to always be present for that; it gives me a better feel for the direction Brian will go and how we can best arrange the service.

So...I had already heard today's message twice before Sunday morning. It's been rustling around in my brain for a few days, but today, it was even more powerful. (I do believe that the corporate experience - listening, singing, praying together - allows for some "secret sauce" that expands the impact of the elements).

I am one of those people who seems to exist at the mercy of her calendar, which seems to be controlled by someone else. Brian's words hit home today, and I felt convicted to change my ways, shift my paradigm, be more intentional.

If you read my blog with any frequency, you might see that I enjoy cooking. It's a creative process for me; although I never get very inventive (I'm a meat-and-potatoes, basic soup and stew sort of girl), I do enjoy the act of creating a meal from scratch. Lately, I have been more compelled to cook creatively, and I've made time. And I've found it more fulfilling and rewarding as well; it's a bucket filler for me.

Today, as I poured over another new recipe and set about browning the onions and garlic, chopping carrots and peeling a turnip (a turnip? What? I have NEVER cooked with a turnip in my life - EVER!), it occurred to me that perhaps this new-found love of cooking represents a subconscious desire - or a need - to slow down. Here's the thing: when I'm cooking, my phone is close by (in case I need to take a picture! In case one of the kids calls!) but I'm not on it. The computer is often in the room and playing music but I'm not using it.

I'm disconnected, and I'm focused on what's in front of me.

Like carrots.

Lately, I have happily been bypassing the cute little pre-packaged, peeled baby carrots and purchased the old-fashioned, real ones. Not that baby carrots aren't real, but you know what I mean.... I clearly recall the deliberate choice I made several years ago, to spend the extra money on the baby carrots because they would save time. Because I always need more time.

Because there's never enough time.

Like my life is scheduled so intensely that I need the extra five minutes it takes to peel and cut five carrots.

What?

I'm not judging anybody who is buying and using baby carrots; I'm just saying, for me, that simple, most basic root vegetable has become a metaphor.

I have time to peel carrots.

I just need to remind myself, and choose wisely.

And focus on what's in front of me.

To see the message, check out our Ustream channel. The actual teaching begins at about 29 minutes.

And here's what I made today: Sunday Night Stew, recipe courtesy of the Pioneer Woman. I'm a fan. In fact, I've yet to make anything from her archives that hasn't been awesome. Find the recipe here.