Signs of Complication

It’s been over 10 years now since I received the once-coveted high school diploma, and five since I earned my bachelor’s degree.  In that time, I’ve been employed in more positions than I care to admit.  Among them are homeowner manual editor, youth director, administrative assistant (three times), receptionist (twice), financial analyst for a defense contractor, volleyball coach, and my current calling: barista.

That is a lot of full time jobs in a short amount of time.  No, I’m not yet thirty years old.  And I can only think of two experiences in the lot that were mainly positive, both for me and my employer.  Was I a terrible employee?  No.  Was I your favorite employee?  Probably not.  And I’ll tell you why.

Until recently, I’ve had a tendency to take any position that was offered to me.  And when I say tendency, I mean I did it 100% of the time.  If I was looking for employment (or not) and got an offer, I took the job.  Every time.

This is not to say that I’m a quitter.  To the contrary, I usually found myself in this position because I held on too long.  Good Americans don’t quit.  Overall, I think this is an extremely positive cultural value.  The problem is that many of us don’t leave even if it’s stupid to stay.  A sure way to complicate your life is to continue to work (or begin employment) at a job that is not a good fit.

Why do we stay on when we’re miserable at work?  Because we fail if we quit?  Because it shows some kind of spiritual fortitude?  Because we’re scared?

This is not a recommendation for unemployment.  Pay your bills.  Don’t do it on credit.  This is a recommendation for looking for a better fit at your FIRST sign that your current situation is not a good fit.  Don’t wait until either you or your employer can’t take it any more.

So here, partly in humor, but mostly not, is a list of signs, if you find it helpful, that I wish I had paid attention to early on in my various places of employment.

Signs that staying at your current workplace doesn’t make you a hero:

1.  You were offered the job because they “need somebody now!”, and they made no bones about it.  (High turnover, anyone?)

2.  Your commute is longer than your lunch hour.

3.  You can’t get through a staff meeting without the HR guy making some kind of inappropriate sexual comment.  That’s right, the HR guy.

4.  Your boss is a phenomenal gossip.

5.  When you let your supervisor know that you are all out of work to do, they respond with, “That’s fine.  Just make it look like you’re working.”  Regularly.

6.  You continue to hear from your boss that your personality (i.e. extroversion/ introversion, left brain/right brain) needs to change.

7.  Someone anonymously put a sign over the doorway to your department that says, “Death Row”.

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.” An old and dear friend of mine, Beth, gave me this quote from Annie Dillard, and I cannot get it out of my head.  Currently I spend my days as a barista at Espresso Royale on campus at the University of Illinois.  I work with many students and recent grads, people with no intention of doing this for very long.  I remember feeling the same way.  More money and/or greater fulfillment is on the way, I thought. But having a degree did not make me love my job.  I love my job because I have a fantastic manager, hard-working co-workers, and grateful customers.  Most days.  But it has taken me just as long to get here, to being a barista, as it took me to get that Bachelor’s degree.  Painstakingly, job after job, I have found that I am not built to spend this part of my life wearing uncomfortable office shoes, with more face time with my computer screen than with my husband.  (This is, of course, particular to me; many people who would read this and think, “well, thank you, but I am not built to sling shots all day for minimum wage to come home coated with a thin layer of sugar and coffee grinds.”)

My point is not that all people should be baristas.  Some of us make fantastic receptionists and teachers and executives and full-time parents.  But don’t ignore who you are in order have something to say when one of your volleyball player’s parents asks what you “really do”.  (When this happened recently, by the way, I learned that it is surprising and disturbing to some folks that a college grad is now working at a coffee shop.)  But this is exactly the kind of question for which I do not want to spend my life miserably producing a socially viable answer.  I want to spend my days, which, of course, is how I spend my life, building positive and meaningful relationships with the people around me, doing my job to the best of my ability, and, for now, slinging shots and syrupy milk for twenty-somethings and professors.

 

Brrrrringing in the New Year

The holidays.  The busiest time of year for most of us, and Jaron’s busiest season at work, possibly tied with Easter.  In the past we have mainly endured the season.  Little decorating at our own home and even less time together than in the regular day-to-day.  Christmas 2007 was the most painfully memorable.  Jaron led five services in four different styles in two towns in two days.  Yikes.

This year, we were intent on simplifying.  Jaron’s work for church services may have been busy like every other year, but we eliminated holiday travel.  It was painful to be away from family all gathered together to celebrate, to miss my niece and nephew wearing the same pajamas on Christmas morning that my mother made for us as little ones.  The truck my dad made for JP and the puzzle he made for Mary. But, in all honesty, it was worth it.

I come from a fairly jet-set family.  Half of my dad’s business is in Hilo, HI, my sister and I are now in the midwest, and my extended family is almost entirely in San Diego.  We’ve made a habit of flying to see each other several times per year at any cost.  Even credit cards.  But determined to “act our wage” this year, we settled in for our first Champaign Christmas.

So, Christmas Eve night, after the church services were finished and the presents wrapped, we set up a mattress next to the fireplace in the living room and camped out for the night with Banjo.  Next morning brought one of my favorite Christmas celebrations to date.  With the economic downturn there is much talk about rediscovering smaller, deeper joys.  That was exactly what our day was this year.  Jaron and I exchanged gifts, read by the fire, made Rick Bayless’ seafood soup , listened to Handel’s declaration of the birth of the Savior, and took Banjo for a snowy walk in the woods just east of here.  Our first Christmas as just an immediate family.  It was perfect.

Another unexpected gift this year as a result of our plans to stay home was that we were able to attend the wedding of our dear friends, Holly and Todd, on New Year’s Eve.

Now, I have to admit that we were cheating just a touch, because we were well-aware that we would be visiting San Diego mid-January, when flights are one third the cost of Christmas-time. We are so ready for a dose of sunshine.  It has been bitterly cold the last week, consistently below zero with wind chill.  We’ve been spending a lot of time like this, hands and feet tucked in, trying not to think about the massive heating bill headed our way just to keep it a chilly 62 inside.

This visit will be another new experience in our effort toward simplifying.  We are staying with my parents rather than couch-hopping with as many dear friends as possible.  We have no extra entertainment budget and plan to eat as many meals as possible at home, much like we do in Champaign.  I’m looking forward to a slower visit this trip.  Time to sit on the swing with my dad and enjoy the weather.

We will be squeezing in the fun opportunity to lead worship at my hometown church, Emmanuel Faith, so if you are there please find us and say hello.  Saturday night at 5:30 or Sunday morning at 11 in the main worship center.  We’d love to see you!

 

March 2008

At the end of 2007, Jaron began to selectively apply for jobs as a full time worship director.  He had been filling part time positions, as a volunteer and on staff, for a couple of years and felt ready for more responsibility and investment.  In January he found what sounded like an awesome fit and applied for his current position at First Presbyterian in Champaign, IL.  I won’t lie.  We were pretty scared of the midwest.  The midwest was always my “Africa”.  The place that sounded like the scariest option and often where you end up feeling called to go.  Upsides were that we would be able to afford a home, that it was only a three hour drive from my sister, whom I hadn’t shared a state with in twelve years, and of course, that we believed so strongly in the work the church described.

So, after a few months of application process, we found ourselves with two weeks to move across the country.  It felt fast, like having a band-aid ripped off.  We said good-bye to an incredibly supportive church community and family in San Diego and took off with our dog to drive the 30 hours to Illinois.  ”Lincoln Land.”  (He’s everywhere.)

Fast forward almost two years and here we are, in an entirely different situation than we expected, which I’m learning is the way things go with big decisions.  Some things are exactly as we hoped.  We have a beautiful home, dear friends, more time with my niece and nephew, and Jaron gets to do what he loves full time.  But the most unexpected things about living in Champaign may be the most permanently life-changing  for us.  This is where we learned what we love.  Personally I had one big career failure since arriving.  It was heart-breaking and 100% necessary for me to go through it.  I know much more about myself now and what I can and want to do than I ever did before.  Success after success would never have taught me that.  It was failure that made it painfully clear.  And brought me eventually to something that was never on my radar before: coaching.  It has meant more than I can say to be able to build relationships with young people in a team context.  I hope to continue coaching volleyball for a long time.

As is clear in this blog (I swear I never planned for it to have so many recipes) we have rediscovered food.  How miraculous, vital, basic, and dignifying good, nutritious food is.  What a wonder is God’s provision through the Earth.  What a scandal it is to deprive fellow humanity of this gift when we have the power to share.  And how much our generation and the one younger than us is being cheated of good health and gratitude for food in America, one of the wealthiest nations in the world.

We’ve also been amazed at the progress our little band has made.  Jaron and I wrote a handful of songs in California and since moving less than two years ago we’ve been able to form a band with extremely gifted musicians and have played almost 15 shows in 2009 in three states.  And met some really great people along the way.

So as the thankfulness holiday is upon us and I’m compelled to think thankful thoughts, I think of my best friend and husband, the provision we have of health and housing, of a supportive family.  But most of all I’m struck by the provision of successes and heartbreak and the surprises they bring.  The past two years have felt a bit of a refiner’s fire.  I’m confident it was the only way we would find the things we value most.  The things we want to take into our adulthood and establish as we someday raise a family.  I could not have guessed the life that was waiting for us in Champaign.  But I am so grateful for it.

 

Irish Thanksgiving?

Jaron and I returned late last night from our first trip across the Atlantic.  4 days and nights in Ireland.  We got a great deal (seriously, cheaper than flying home for Christmas…) and it was a destination we’d both been enamored with for quite some time.  What better way to welcome 30 years of living than fish and chips and a pint at a thousand year-old Irish pub?  If you ever need to feel young, just spend some time where there is real history, heartache, and triumph.  We LOVED Ireland.

Since our stay was so short we spent most of our time in Dublin, walking the stone-paved sidewalks, marveling at the Christmas decorations on Grafton Street, and feeling a little bit like we’d just been dropped into a Harry Potter movie.

We also took a train one morning to visit the coastal town of Howth with a priceless hike along the cliffs before fresh fish and chips at the docks.

Meals were meaty and huge.  The surroundings were almost always quaint and sturdy.  On our final day we visited the legendary cafe at Avoca village and had brown bread and with roasted tomato and red pepper soup for lunch.  Supper was a half liter of microbrew and fish pie back in Dublin at a gastro pub that was part of an old castle and I was spellbound by the detail of the architecture and the simplicty of the wonderful food.  Two meals I will never forget.

So on returning home to Thanksgiving I’ve got Irish food on my mind and ideas brewing for ways to incorporate it into upcoming meals based on Thanksgiving leftovers.  I wondered about combining the two and settled on adapting Avoca’s recipe for shepherd’s pie to use leftover turkey and sweet potatoes.  The result was exactly what we were hoping for.

First, the prep.  Peel and chop 1 yellow onion.  In a large pan or stock pot, saute the onion in about 4 tbsp olive oil until translucent, but not brown.  Shred 4 cups of leftover turkey with a fork and add to onions.  (You can also use 2 lb ground turkey.  If so, add it raw to the cooked onions and brown before adding other ingredients.)

Also add:

3 tbsp worcestersire

2 whole sprigs thyme

1 teaspoon tomato paste

3 carrots, peeled and diced

2 chicken bouillon cubes and 2 c water

salt and pepper to taste

Cover and cook this combination on low heat for 25 minutes.  Remove cover and continue to cook on low for 25 minutes more.  Preheat oven to 350 F.

If using leftover mashed sweet potatoes make sure you have at least 4 cups.  If starting fresh, peel and cube 3 lb of sweet potatoes.  Place in stock pot, cover in water, add salt, and bring to boil.  Cook over medium heat for 15 minutes, or until tender.  Drain the potatoes and put back over low heat.  Add 1 c half and half, 4 tbsp butter, 1 egg yolk, and salt and pepper to taste.  Mash the potatoes well and taste, adjust seasoning as desired.  Set aside.

Once the meat mixture is done, remove the thyme sprigs and spread it into the bottom of a deep pie dish, along with juices from the pan.  Cover with the mashed sweet potato and spread evenly, creating texture as desired.  Heat at 350F for 20 minutes and broil for 5 more, or until the sweet potato mash has browned at its tips.  If you want to make this ahead of meal time, let it cool in the refridgerator and leave time to warm it at 350F for 40 minutes.

This turned out to be a great dish and adapted with very little adjustment.  Hearty, sweet, savory, and fresh-tasting.  Approximately 8 servings.

 

Slow Food – Fall Favorite #2

Wow, I can hardly believe Fall is already on it’s way out.  I’m running out of time on sharing my favorite fall recipes, so, in between packing for Dublin and working volleyball try-outs (not a bad day, right?) here is our favorite weeknight entree for fall.  Even though I tend to make this a couple of times per week in the Fall, Jaron still gets excited when he hears it’s on the docket.  It’s a perfect sweet-savory dish and very low on the calorie count for how rich the flavor is.  Serves 4.  (The leftovers heat up well, too.)

Liberian Pumpkin

So you can use pumpkin, but it really is a pain to cut up and deseed, and I prefer the taste of butternut squash.  Still sounds better to call it Liberian Pumpkin, though.

Ingredient prep:

*See bottom of post for help with the rice or orzo pasta which accompanies this dish.

Brown about 1 c Italian bulk sausage and set aside, chop 1 medium butternut squash into bite-size cubes, chop 1 yellow onion, and deseed and chop 1 green chile.  (We tend to use jalapenos, but they can be unpredictable in heat sometimes, so if you like the heat you may want a serrano and if not, go with anaheim or half a poblano.)

In a large saute pan with a lid, saute the chili pepper, butternut squash, and onion in 1 tbsp olive oil until onion is translucent.  Then cover and cook on medium heat about 10 minutes, until squash is cooked.

Add 1 c water and 1 bouillon cube.  Cook 10 more minutes, covered.

Add browned sausage and cook uncovered until the liquid has mostly been absorbed or evaporated.  Serve over brown rice or orzo pasta.

*This dish is served with brown rice (if you have the hour to cook it) or orzo pasta.  If using brown rice, bring your preferred amount along with twice as much water and a small slice of butter to boil and simmer, covered, for 50 min.  Then let stand for ten before serving.  If orzo, you’ll need to boil it for 8-10 minutes and drain.  It usually works to set your water to boil while you saute the vegetables, then add the pasta to the boiling water before you put the sausage in with the vegetables.

 

Slow Food – Fall Favorite #1

So, it’s been a blogless month, but more on that in another post.  I was inspired to share a few more recipes by an email I received yesterday.  It was from a major (processed) food company that sent out recipes for 5 “Fall favorites” in an attempt to get me to buy their products to make the dishes.  The most featured recipe was for angel hair pasta… with sliced tomato and fresh basil.  Are you serious??  How much more summer can you get than tomatoes and fresh basil??  I was flabbergasted.

SO, I thought I’d dedicate a few posts to my favorite Fall flavor combo, squash and sausage (with squash and apples coming in at a close second).  First up is one we recreated after experiencing it last year in Chicago at Cajun joint “Heaven on Seven”: Spicy Pumpkin Sausage Soup.

First the ingredient prep.  Dice 1-1.5 lb spicy smoked sausage.  Make sure you don’t buy raw sausage as it behaves very differently than smoked.

Also dice 1/2 c yellow onion and 1 tbsp garlic and slice 3/4 c baby bella mushrooms.  Saute these ingredients in 1 tbsp olive oil along with 1 tsp dried oregano, 1 tsp dried basil (or 1 tbsp fresh), and 1/2 tsp red pepper flakes until the sausage starts to brown and the onions are translucent.

Add 2 c water with bouillon cubes and 1 14 oz. can diced tomatoes (with liquid).  Mix thoroughly and stir in 1 14 oz. can pumpkin.  (Make sure you don’t use pumpkin pie filling!)

Simmer for one half hour.  Then add  1 c shredded spinach and cook 5 more minutes.  Depending on the sausage you choose, this soup can come out very spicy.  If the fire is too hot for your taste, you can easily put out the flame with about 1 tbsp heavy cream per bowl, while even enhancing the texture of this hearty soup.

Jaron loves this soup; if you’re into grilling brats in the summer, this is the perfect fall adaptation.  Earthy, comforting, and bright.

 

Slow Food – Homemade Pizza with Butternut Squash Sauce

So we may be eating organically and locally as much as possible, but that doesn’t mean all of our tastes have changed.  We still love pizza night – and since we started making it at home it’s become even more fun as we try to be a bit more adventurous than Papa John’s or Pizza Hut will allow.  This weekend we ate it twice in one day! (The freedom to eat pizza for lunch and dinner the same day is one of my favorite things about being an adult…)

We had our dear friends, Tim and Katie, over for our latest pizza experiment and they heartily approved, so I thought I’d share our discovery.  We adapted a butternut squash pasta sauce from Simply in Season to make the consistency more appropriate for pizza and moved the sausage from inside the pasta to the topping for our pizza.  The sauce takes a little time, but should make enough for several pizzas and freezes well.  The sweet and savory flavors ooze fall, in case you’re not feeling its presence yet.

If you’re skeptical or just don’t have time to make the sauce, we’ve also tried these toppings with basil pesto from the grocery store and it was extremely tasty, too!

First step is the dough – if you are intimidated by that, don’t be.  It takes 10 minutes and can be done anytime from the night before to one hour before you’re ready to cook your pizza.

Stir 1 heaping TBSP yeast into 1 1/4 c warm water until dissolved.

Add:
1 c whole wheat flour
2 c all-purpose flour
1 tsp salt

If you have a kitchen aid, use your dough hook on the lowest setting for 2-3 minutes, until the dough is in one big clump.  If you’re kneading by hand, it takes 8-10 minutes.  Use a touch of olive oil to lightly grease the ball of dough and leave it in a bowl with a damp towel over the top till it doubles in size.  About an hour.  If you’re not using the dough right away, let it rise, then pop it in the fridge till you’re ready.

To make the sauce:

Peel, chop, and saute one medium-sized butternut squash until tender.  Puree and set aside.

Saute 1 diced yellow onion and 4 minced cloves of garlic 3-5 minutes until soft.

Add:
1 bay leaf
2 chopped fresh sage
1 c dry white wine (or chicken or veggie broth)

Cook a few minutes until half the liquid evaporates.

Add 1 c chicken or veggie broth and the pureed squash.  Stir until the sauce starts to bubble and reduce heat.

Add:
1/2 c evaporated milk
1/8 tsp ground cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground nutmeg
freshly ground salt and pepper to taste

Simmer for up to ten minutes until thickened.  If the consistency seems too chunky, puree the sauce and return to pot.  If you prefer, like we do, add a touch of heavy cream and cook until reduced to desired consistency.  We found that this recipe made four to five pizzas’ worth of sauce, and again, it freezes well for quick dinners later on.

To cook pizza:

Roll out pizza dough on pizza stone or baking dish.  Bake in a preheated oven at 450 for 5-8 minutes and remove.

Spread sauce onto pizza dough.  Top with grated mozzarella and other desired toppings.  Our favorites are chopped sage, chopped walnuts or browned Italian sausage, and some fresh-grated Parmesan.  This is when I like to brush a little olive oil on the crust for extra flavor and crunch.

Return to oven at 450 for another 5-8, until cheese or crust is just starting to brown.  Serve immediately.  With an Oktoberfest beer or white wine. 

 

How to Complicate Your Life #1

Jaron and I have watched a couple of movies recently that make you want to live in the northeast and have a dog.  We already have a dog.  He’s fantastic.

“It makes me want another dog.  A puppy.”

Those words rang out in the living room.  Our dog, Banjo, lifted his head.  I don’t even know whether it was me or Jaron who said it, but everything went silent, while we waited to see if we were about to be struck by lightning for such blasphemy.  Because here’s the thing.  You never want another dog.  Especially not a puppy.

We learned this the hard way, which brings me to my first little discussion of things we’ve done in the spirit of not simplifying life.

How to Complicate Your Life #1: Insisting on More of  Good Thing

In the winter of 2006 Jaron and I had been married for just six months.  We were definitely one of those couples on their way to a rough first year.  Fortunately for us, the care of my personal mentor, Dana, went a long way in shortening the rough patch, and the rest of the work was done by adopting a third member of the family, our puppy, Banjo.

Jaron and I both have a tendency to focus on ideas, dreams, hypothetical conversations, fears… anything that’s not tangible.  Banjo drew us in to the here and now like nothing had before.  Because here and now there was a dog peeing on the carpet, or eating the toggles on my sweater, or digging through the bathroom trash, or chasing a squirrel out the window and down the street.  Here and now there was a very fuzzy puppy who would like to play and have a belly rub, and blow bubbles in his water dish, and run in the breakers at the beach.

Initially Banjo made life more difficult for us and we definitely had some adopter’s remorse from time to time.  But he also added routine to our lives and got us out of the house and meeting our neighbors, who were now able to associate us with the very cute puppy and the dilapidated eyesore next to their $2 million home instead of just the latter.  He was exactly what we needed.

Two and half years later, out in Illinois with our first home and a huge yard, we found ourselves with a hankering to do it again.  So, for the next four months we spent time and money like never before, trying to make it work with our new puppy, Kona, an Alaskan malamute whose first home burned down.  Between September and December  we had countless potty-training nightmares along with monetary costs that were much easier to quantify: to the tune of $5,000.  We learned that Kona had a heart murmur and a misaligned bladder.  Her love for howling made it impossible for her to be an outdoor dog, and it wasn’t long before she had Banjo looking more like a chew toy than his normally chipper self.  Kona was very affectionate, a beautiful dog with, as we finally had to admit, no place in our home.

Sometimes, even with the things we love, we forget to be content.  Having a good thing, we think, means more of it will be better.  So we end up with a newer car, bigger home, better sound system, more prestigious job, longer vacation, second puppy.  We forget that this new addition is just as big a gamble the second time around as it was the first.  And the thing we loved in its previous form has now become a force of its own; instead of adding to our life, it dominates it.

Jaron and I still find ourselves tempted by more and better, even when we  already have our needs met by the previous version.  But no new puppies will be joining us this fall.  No new houses or additional volunteer hours.  Thanks, Kona, for teaching us to love what we have.

 

Slow Food

One of the biggest and least planned for changes we’ve experienced since moving to our smaller town is a household food revolution.  What started with reading Mireille Guiliano in a desperate attempt to lose some of the weight we’d gained in the last five years, has evolved into a firm commitment to eat seasonally, locally and organically whenever possible.  We are healthier and enjoy food more than ever before.  What used to be a task or routine has become our highest form of entertainment and social outlet.

Organic and local carrots, potatoes, celery, and brocolli

For a quick example, here’s our first fall recipe this year, found in 10,000 Villages‘ Simply in Season.  (The vast majority of our eating is inspired by this extremely helpful and well-presented book.)

Hearty Broccoli Soup

In one hour these veggies, along with a little milk, cheese, and a touch of flour became an extremely hearty bowl of soup, perfect for the first gray days of fall.  If we had a food processor, it would been done in half the time.  (Birthday hint, Mom…)

Shockingly, this comfort food adds up to only  400 nutrient-rich calories and one batch fed us three meals for two big eaters.

The "vegebone"

And Jaron saved me from wasting the broccoli stalks by inventing what he calls a “vegebone” for our dog, Banjo, who especially loves them frozen.

2 c diced potatoes
1 c chopped onion
1 c sliced carrots
1/2 c finely diced celery
1 c water

Cook above ingredients together for 5 minutes.

Add 2 c chopped broccoli and cook 5-10 more minutes.

Add:
3 c milk
2 veggie bouillon cubes
1 tsp worcestershire
salt and pepper

Heat to boil  and add:
1 c milk and 1/3 c flour, blended first

Cook until thickened.  Add 1 c shredded cheese of your choice.  (I like to puree about half the soup and leave the rest chunky, but you can do all or none if you like.)

 

February, 2008

Jaron and I had been married for just over two years.  We had an unheard of deal on rent for a large apartment in Cardiff by the Sea, a beach community in north county San Diego.  Our panoramic view of the ocean floored me every time I saw it.  How did we end up here?!  How did we get so lucky?  And how on earth would I be satisfied with living somewhere else in the inevitable future?  I was (believe it or not) stressed out by our good fortune.  It felt so impermanent.  And it was.

The less glorious part of the story is that Jaron and I, two college grads, were both working part time jobs.  And not our dream jobs.  I was a receptionist at a very cool design firm in Solana Beach.  I spent my short work days alone on the bottom floor of the building and had a terrible time staying productive.  Jaron was driving all over the county teaching guitar lessons for little more than it cost to pay for the gas, and was a part time worship leader at a sweet little church that was 45 minutes away.  We were spread too thin and drowning in debt.  Cars, credit cards, college loans… weren’t we supposed to be on some kind of track?  Hadn’t I quit my high-paying job as a financial analyst to have more time to enjoy my husband and our amazing beach community?  Actually, no.  I had quit my high-paying job because it was like sitting in a cubicle cell all day with no work to do.  Right…  New cell, shorter hours, still no actual work to do.

Something had to change.  Ocean view or not, our lifestyle was wearing us thin and making us fat.  And sick.  Jaron and I got sick, like really, truly, sick-as-a-dog ill more in our two years in that amazing beach town than the previous 25 years of our lives combined.  Something.  Had.  To.  Change.  Enter www.churchstaffing.com.  More on that later.