What do you write when it’s been 3 months since you’ve written anything? It’s been an unusual season for my family. And it feels like we are now in an “in-between”.

I was already behind on blogging- I had a few batches of photos from foods I had made that were awaiting the day when I could write and post. January had been filled with some good eats: yummy Mustard Greens with Hoppin’ John from New Year’s celebrating, a lovely Chocolate Cake (via Barefoot Contessa) for MLK day, and homemade donuts from my Lucy’s birthday and a few other snacks and goodies.

And then one Wednesday afternoon at the end of January we came home from work/school to find that our house had been robbed and ransacked.  It was a watershed moment.

You know, the moments that then mark time.

So we have been picking up the pieces, literally and figuratively.  We have been doing the logistical, spiritual, parental and psychological work of the aftermath of something like this.  Through this, though, we have been given a chance to reevaluate things- what is important, what’s not, where we are “storing up treasures”, the limits and illusion of safety, the complexity of life, the comfort of loved ones.

Sadly, the loss included my computer and my camera.  So my photos of those January foods I mentioned are gone.  And I have just now been able to buy a computer and camera to replace the stolen ones.  I’m still waiting for the wind in my sails to motivate me to blog-on.  It hasn’t seemed to return yet.

It seems like we are in a place of liminality.

Li·mi·nal – of or relating to a sensory threshold;  being in an intermediate state, phase, or condition. (Merriam Webster Dictionary)

An artist that spoke at Belmont several years ago, Makoto Fujimura, spoke of liminality and its challenge and opportunity.  About liminal spaces, places of threshold, he said,

These are dangerous places, filled with struggle.  Uncomfortable.  But places of unique perspective; fertile with creativity.  One who is courageous enough to live there can be a harbinger of truth.

It feels like that space between right now- not quite spring, but not quite winter.  Not quite settled after the break-in, but not in disarray; still replacing stolen items and awaiting another update from the detective, yet trying to find resolution without yet having reconciliation.

So, for this Liminal Space- I share these two recipes.  A great cold buster smoothie recipe that was passed along to me that I have been loving the past few weeks (a good any season breakfast) and an oatmeal cookie recipe that I find comforting.

(And my cold was busted!)

• two fists-full of fresh Spinach leaves
• a peeled whole orange
• 1/2 of peeled lime
• a small slice of fresh ginger root
• 1/2 banana OR frozen mango– for creaminess and vitamins
• frozen pineapple– a handful
• brewed green tea-(I brewed a pitcher and kept it in my refrigerator the week of my cold) some mornings I just use water instead of green tea
• honey– if you need a little sweetening

Oatmeal Golden Raisin Cookies
adapted from Smittenkitchen.com
(makes about 2 dozen)

1 stick (1/2 cup) butter, softened
2/3 cup light brown sugar, packed
1 large egg
1/2 tsp vanilla extract
3/4 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1/4 tsp. kosher salt (or a little more if you are using unsalted butter)
1 1/2 cups rolled oats (old fashioned oats)
3/4 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped (optional)

In a large bowl, cream together the butter, brown sugar, egg and vanilla until smooth.  Add in the flour, baking soda and salt and mix together.  Stir in the oats, raisins and walnuts.  CHILL the DOUGH.  (You can do this in the refrigerator for an hour or more, or in the freezer for 20 minutes, or you can scoop them into balls and freeze them for future baking.)

Once dough is chilled, scoop them out and place on parchment lined baking sheets.  Place in preheated 350˚ oven for 10 minutes or until golden brown.  Let sit for a few minutes on the pan and then slide them off with a spatula to cool on a rack.

As we wait for winter to pass and the spring to arrive, for seasons of liminality to pass, I want to courageously embrace the unique perspective and fertile ground that is the present.