Woodlands (35 page)

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Authors: Robin Jones Gunn

BOOK: Woodlands
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“So you two are heading back to Glenbrooke tonight?” Collin asked.

Seth and Leah both nodded.

“Is there anything I can do for either of you?”

Seth said, “No, thanks.”

Leah was about to echo the same answer, but then she had a thought. “Actually, Collin, you could do one thing for me.”

“Name it.”

Twenty minutes later, Seth and Leah were on the road in his Subaru station wagon, heading south for Glenbrooke.

“Ready for this?” Leah asked.

Seth nodded. Leah held Seth’s portable CD player in her lap and inserted the CD she had borrowed from Collin. Into the air floated the rich, romantic voice of an Italian tenor, singing his heart out.

Leah pulled the paper insert from the CD case and told Seth, “This says the title of this song in English is ‘I’ll Go with You.’ ”

Seth smiled at her. “It’s true, George. I will go with you.”

“And I’ll go with you,” Leah said, reaching over and slipping her hand into his.

Leah leaned back and closed her eyes. She could clearly picture a charming cottage tucked away in the clearing of a certain woodland where the sunbeams shot through the trees like bronzed javelins thrust from the heavens. She reveled in thoughts of Seth’s kisses in the golden light of those woodlands. Bungee would have a yard to play in.

Leah looked over at Seth, wondering what he was thinking. She couldn’t keep back the smile that had broken out as she studied the profile of the man with whom she knew she would spend the rest of her life.

“I was thinking,” Seth said, glancing at Leah.

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to say anything right away. Take all the time you want to think about it.”

“Yes?” Leah waited for Seth to finish. She felt as if the Gondolier was steering their course home to Glenbrooke, and she and Seth had fallen together into this pocket of grace. As the soaring notes of the Italian love song showered over them, Leah whispered under her breath, “Oh, Lion of Judah, keep singing over us. Sing over us with joy!”

“I was wondering,” Seth said. “What would you think of a honeymoon in Venice?”

Dear Reader,

During my teen years, which were spent in southern California, every Fourth of July my family visited friends at the beach. The summer I was fourteen, I was sitting on the beach watching the waves when “Uncle” Bob leaned over and said, “You do know, don’t you, that the Lord sings over you?”

I had no idea what he was talking about. I did know that Bob was full of surprises. He wrote clever poetry, and his wife, Madelyn, decorated their beachfront home with his original oil paintings of their favorite Hawaiian locations. He had hung a swing from their vaulted ceiling for their three children. And he was one of the first God-lovers I ever met.

As the summer sun poured over us that July afternoon, I squinted at Uncle Bob in response to his remark. He added with a nod, “It’s true. The Lord sings over you, Robin. It’s in the Bible so I know it’s true.” He quoted Zephaniah 3:17, “He will joy over thee with singing.”

I felt as if I had been handed a secret key that unlocked one of the mysteries of God. The Lord sings over me!

That knowledge became sweeter than just knowing that God loved me. It was deeper than believing Christ had died for me. It was more promising than trusting that one day Christ would return and take me to be with him.

The Lord sings over me! God takes delight in being with me!

My soul’s response was to promise to always take delight in him. His singing over me became evidence that God liked me. He was the eternal romancer. The relentless lover. The one who always wants me back.

As I wrote about Leah, I felt she represented so many women I know who haven’t yet realized God takes delight in them simply because they are his daughters. I wanted Leah to
discover this truth and to realize it wasn’t up to her to direct her life down each “canal” she came to. I like the way she yielded to the Gondolier and finally settled into his pocket of grace. I want to live like that every day.

My friend, you do know, don’t you, that the Lord rejoices over you with singing? It says so in his Book so I know it’s true.

Always,

W
OODLANDS
R
ECIPES

My son decided he liked spinach when he was in third grade. The school’s cafeteria served spinach once a week, and none of the other kids could believe my son actually ate it. He came home one day with a story about how he not only ate all his spinach, but he also powered down most of the other kids’ servings. They hailed him as having performed some kind of inhuman feat. (In third grade, I guess we all take whatever fame we can get.)

I asked my son what made the school spinach so good, and he said it was “all mixed up with cheese in in.” I began to experiment with a spinach soufflé recipe until he said it was just as good as the cafeteria spinach. It’s still his favorite. I make it every Thanksgiving, Christmas, and a dozen other times during the year. And, I have to say, it doesn’t feel like a feat at all to pack away a considerable amount of spinach—even if no third-graders are surrounding you and cheering you on.

I think Leah would have come up with the same recipe, which is why I call it “Leah’s Spinach.”

I must tell you I really goofed on this easy recipe once. We were having company for dinner, and in my haste, I bought frozen collard greens instead of spinach. It wasn’t until our poor company dug in and took the first bite that I realized something was wrong. I’ll never forget the look on that poor guy’s face! So whatever you do, don’t substitute chopped collard greens. It makes for a bitter surprise.

L
EAH

S
S
PINACH

6 boxes frozen, chopped spinach (10-ounce size)

6 large eggs

1 cup monterey jack cheese, grated

3 slices bread, crumbled into crumbs

few pats of butter

salt and pepper

Thaw the spinach and drain excess water. Place spinach in oven-safe soufflé bowl (or casserole dish). Mix in the grated cheese. Add a few shakes of salt and pepper. In a separate bowl, beat all six eggs and pour over spinach and cheese and mix together. Cover mixture with breadcrumbs and dot with a few pats of butter. Bake for 30 minutes in a 350-degree oven.

I
DA

S
L
EMONADE

Berries are plentiful in the Northwest each summer so it’s easy to think of creative ways to include berries in our summer menu. Here’s a recipe for fresh lemonade with berries, one of Ida’s secret ingredients.

1 1/2 cups berries, washed and hulled

1 cup fresh-squeezed lemon juice (about 6 lemons)

3/4 cup sugar

4 cups cold water

Combine the berries, lemon juice, and sugar in a blender or food processor. Blend until smooth. Pour into a large pitcher. Add cold water and squeeze half a lime over the top. Stir well and add ice. Ah, the joys of summer!

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