I have already told the story about what took me to and from different places. (Read about it in this blog post.) What I left out, though, was that I believe God put people in my life in each place, and they served as the community I needed at the right time. I don’t talk about it enough, but for those who don’t know me well, I am a Christian. For me, it is more than a box to check under a survey's “religion” category. Yes, I strive to be a “good” person, but I would rather my “goodness” reflect Jesus more than a strong moral compass. In each town I found myself in over the years, I have found a church in which to be involved. And in addition to filling a seat on Sundays, I intentionally sought out community through a church small group. Different churches and denominations have varying names for these. Still, the groups I joined were basically the same regardless of the name - Bible study, Sunday school class, small group, life group, and community group. There were groups of women, men and women, singles, singles and couples, similar ages, and wider age ranges. The goal was to grow in our faith; support one another, which included sharing our lives and praying for one another; and read the Bible or complete a book study together. We're not meant to do life alone, after all.
When I came back to Oklahoma, I knew I wanted to find a new church, and through a few different visits, I found a church where I’ve enjoyed serving in children’s ministry.
Before I started serving, though, I joined a “Millennial” small group. This group allowed me to meet new people who became my friends. I also got back in the habit of studying my Bible after being in a work and Word slump my first semester back to teaching. Last year I celebrated my birthday with this group on a trip to Broken Bow, OK.
In my last year in Montana, I was in a small group of women of different ages, from three different churches, all with different backgrounds. Even though the group started a few months before I moved away, I valued my time with them and gained new friends who shared my faith. We supported one another through broken relationships and life challenges, and they benefited from me testing a different scone recipe every week for a month!
In Connecticut, I was in a small Sunday School class with adults who were older than me. This group was what I needed, though. It was nice to connect with people not in the school and food world. I benefited from their wisdom, and I loved their New England personalities, which included a love for pizza. I wish we made it a regular thing, but I did go to one of New Haven’s hotly contested favorites, Modern, with them after church. God also saw it important to put an auto mechanic in my path. (If you know me and my history with cars, this is important.) Gordie was one of the men in the class, and when my Volvo broke down while driving home from the airport after Christmas break, I knew where I wanted AAA to tow it. It wasn’t the battery or a quick fix, so I was glad to have a mechanic friend! (Check out Gordie’s Auto Repair if you’re in need in Wallingford, CT. He does great work!)
In Arkansas, I was in a group with mostly couples, but I felt like I fit in well, and they all became great friends. (It helped that one was a previous roommate!) We had Sunday night potluck dinners, dessert, and Bible study. This was also at the same time I was going to culinary school, so they were happy to help me eat any leftovers I made in class. They even blessed me by helping me move locally during my time there.
In South Carolina, I was in a group with women in my age range who were both single and in relationships. I needed this group to keep my mind focused on what God says about me when I was teaching rebellious 8th graders who did not like the structure I tried to provide.
This fun group of women became my friends over my last two years in the Charleston area, and we went on trips in and around South Carolina together including a trip to the Charlotte Renaissance Festival and a day trip to Savannah, GA.
Colorado was the state I skipped because there is a longer story there. During my first summer as a summer staff member (read about that experience here), I was placed in a life group co-led by one of the interns who had been at camp for a year and a full-time staff member. Each summer staff member was expected to be part of a group that met on Sunday nights. We didn’t get to go to church together since we didn’t have much time off, but we did have our own staff worship and devotion services on Sunday mornings and life groups on Sunday nights after the kitchens were cleaned from dinner service. The full-time staff member who co-led my group was Alice, our Hospitality Director. She became the boss I was closest with besides Doug, my first Food Service Director. (Read this post about a food show trip with Alice and Doug.) During one of the early life group meetings our group was asked to share an instance we felt God’s presence. I don’t remember the discussion that prompted the question, but I do remember I, uncharacteristically, being the introvert I am, felt like sharing. I told an abbreviated version of the story that follows.
It was my last month in South Carolina before moving to Colorado, and I needed to go to the doctor for some routine blood tests. Since my planning period was the last hour of the day, and I don’t like to take off work if I didn’t need to, I made the appointment during my planning period and was able to leave early. However, since I was getting blood drawn, I was told to not eat all day. I did have water, and if I remember correctly, I may have gotten up early enough to have breakfast and then fast the required amount of time in between. In hindsight, I should have brought a snack with me to eat afterward, but I did not. My appointment was around 2, and as someone who likes food, I was hungry. It is also notable that, while my school was in Goose Creek, my doctor’s office was in Daniel Island, and I lived in North Charleston. It was about half an hour there and half an hour back home, in the best traffic, which included driving over the Don Holt Bridge, connecting Daniel Island to North Charleston spanning 800 feet over the Cooper River. (Read more about my time in Charleston here.) My blood tests went fine, and I waited out the required 10 minutes before I was free to go. I left, got in my car, and I drove 7 miles before I started feeling off. It was as I got onto the Don N. Holt Bridge that my vision started to blur. I have a history of passing out, so I knew what was happening. My palms were sweaty, and my skin was clammy. I started breathing slower, and my heart rate was slowing. My vision was dimming, but I was still cognizant. “God, help me not pass out,” I prayed in a whisper while keeping my foot steady on the gas. Cars were driving all around me since I was in the middle lane going west with traffic. “God, keep me awake,” I said while my vision turned black and white in the afternoon sun. I kept going, knowing I couldn’t stop. I was hot but couldn’t move my hands frozen to the steering wheel to adjust the AC. I was sure I was sweaty as my vision was a narrow circle, and in my mind, I was saying, “Help me” since I could no longer talk out loud. I couldn’t look away from the road, but I felt Jesus in the passenger seat next to me. I didn’t feel alone in this. My foot held steady. I kept going. And just as I thought I was about to blackout, the circle of vision grew, and I made it off the bridge. My heart rate started to pick up, and my temperature started regulating. I could have pulled over then, found a spot to stop, and calmed down, but more than anything I wanted to go home. I kept going, only stopping at a pharmacy to drop off a prescription when I was 10 minutes from my apartment, then made it home to rest and collect myself. It wasn’t until I was trying to go to sleep that night that I realized how serious the situation was and my body finally felt scared. I started crying, sobs that stole my breath, and could not stop. The realization of what could have been caught up to me, and the relief at what wasn’t, was overwhelming. I called my best friend. (This was a new one for her since the last time I called in a panic there was a giant Palmetto bug in my apartment.). After a few minutes of trying to calm down, I finally got the story out. My body put my trauma response into “freeze” mode when I survived in “flight” earlier. Not only did I put myself in danger, but I put the lives of those driving around me at risk, too. She made me promise that I would pull over next time (which there hopefully will not be), even if I am on a bridge.
I’ve never had a “near death” experience besides that one, but I think that qualifies and is enough for me. I wish I had more stories when I felt Jesus sitting beside me that don’t involve me blacking out while driving over a bridge. I don’t. Instead, I know God is with me during the experiences He brings me through and by the people He puts in my path - friends like family, the right people at the right time, a calm presence, a friendly face, and a helping hand. I may have been lonely at times, during my nomadic life, but I thank God I was never alone.
I’ve also enjoyed sharing food with these people and small groups over the years. My last fall at camp Alice cooked a pumpkin that produced 16 cups of purée! We used a little bit of the purée to have fun in her kitchen before I went off to culinary school. We made pumpkin cream puffs that we took to a staff bowling night at our rec center, and unfortunately, they were a bit too full. A few people, including our camp director, may have squirted the filling out onto the old carpet. They were delicious, though! The pumpkin recipes in Ken’s The Harvest Baker are tasty treats for any small group gathering.
Pumpkin Soda Bread would have been a good addition to Alice’s corned beef and cabbage we shared one St. Patrick’s Day.
The previous Sky Ranch Horn Creek fellows enjoyed the Pumpkin Cheesecake Crumb Cakes I made when I returned to camp last fall (shared here, the same post detailing the story involving Doug and Alice cited above).
My Oklahoma Millennial small group benefited from the Pecan Pumpkin Spice Cookies and Chocolate-Glazed Pumpkin Cheesecake with Gingersnap Crust (which I didn’t actually glaze, just piped whipped ganache).
And lastly, my best friend was the sampler for the Pecan-Crusted Pumpkin Cheesecake Bars. She’s been with me through it all, which entitles her to baked goods sampling!
I would recommend sharing them all with whatever group, big or small, you are a part of. But my personal favorite is the cheesecake bars with the sour cream topping, so I’ve shared the recipe below with you. Happy fall, and safe driving!
Pecan-Crusted Pumpkin Cheesecake Bars
Yield: 12 to 16 servings
Ingredients:
Butter for the cake pan
⅔ cup pecan halves
⅓ cup packed light brown sugar
1¼ cups graham cracker crumbs
¼ teaspoon salt
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Filling
8 ounces cream cheese, softened
1 cup packed light brown sugar
2 large eggs, at room temperature
1 tablespoon all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
½ teaspoon ground ginger
½ teaspoon ground nutmeg
1 cup pumpkin purée, canned or fresh
⅓ cup heavy cream
Sour Cream Topping
1⅓ cups sour cream
⅓ cup granulated sugar
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
Directions:
Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Lightly butter a 9- by 9-inch cake pan. Combine the pecans and brown sugar in a food processor; process until finely chopped. Transfer to a mixing bowl and add the graham cracker crumbs and salt. Mix briefly, then stir in the melted butter. Mix thoroughly - hands work best - adding a few drops of water if needed, so the mixture barely holds together when you squeeze it in your palm. Press the crumbs evenly into the bottom of the pan and just slightly up the sides. Bake on the middle oven rack for 8 minutes. Transfer to a rack and cool thoroughly. Set oven to 325°F (170°C).
Using an electric mixer (handheld is fine), cream the cream cheese and brown sugar in a mixing bowl. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating on medium speed after each addition. Mix the flour and spices in a small bowl; add to the cream cheese mixture and beat again. Beat in the pumpkin and cream on medium-low speed, just until everything is evenly blended.
Pour the filling over the crust, tilting the pan so it cover the crust evenly. Bake on the middle oven rack for 45 to 50 minutes. When done, the outer edges of the filling will have a drier look than the center and may be slightly puffed, but barely so. This isn’t a filling that rises dramatically, if at all. Transfer to a rack and cool thoroughly.
Combine the sour cream, granulated sugar, and vanilla in a small saucepan. Heat very gently, stirring nonstop until it reaches a pourable consistency. Pour over the pumpkin filling, immediately tilting the pan to spread out the sour cream. Cool thoroughly, then cover the pan with foil; refrigerate for at least 3 to 4 hours before serving. These are very creamy bars, best eaten with a knife and fork.
The Harvest Baker (c) by Ken Haedrich, recipe excerpted with permission from Storey Publishing.
Wow! You mentioned me a lot in that one! 😄 I was so thankful for your help pureeing all that pumpkin! And baking with it was great! I still like cooking, pureeing, and freezing pumpkin so that I don't have to use the cans! The color is so much better!