23 January 2012

talking in a mud-free zone

Yesterday was Sanctity of Life Sunday. 22nd January is the anniversary of Roe vs Wade, a landmark decision made in 1973 by the US Supreme Court on the issue of abortion. And I'd like to say right at the start of this post that I'm not about to launch into a tirade of abuse and criticism against those who would describe themselves as pro-choice. This is officially a Mud-Free Zone. As in No Mudslinging.

Sanctity of Life Sunday isn't acknowledged in Britain, although the topic of abortion is rarely out of the news in this country at the moment because the Department of Health is considering making changes to the assistance offered to women with crisis pregnancies. Various bloggers have written articles to mark the anniversary, and in America the famous evangelist John Piper has preached his annual sermon on the subject. Having "liked" him on Facebook, I receive regular notification on my news feed of his status updates, and although I can't remember the exact wording of the phrase that lodged itself in my mind yesterday, it was to the effect that if you feel strongly about something you should act upon those strong feelings and not allow yourself to become apathetic about the issue in question. A passion should give rise to action. But when you feel strongly about an issue, how exactly should you behave? What should you do? What is the most effective and appropriate way of expressing your allegiance to a stance and, more importantly, furthering its cause? 

The quickest way to engage in a debate about any controversial topic nowadays is to go straight to an online forum and jump in at the deep end. They exist all over the internet in various forms, and are populated by all types of people holding all kinds of views. I am always really interested to read the readers' comments at the foot of any newspaper article written on such a topic, and irrespective of the opinions expressed by the paper or the article's author, the comments section is always packed with all sorts of conflicting feedback. And what always really stands out for me is the amount of vitriol and hatred demonstrated in such forums. Unbelievable amounts of mud are slung. Insults are traded. People are judged harshly by complete strangers because of what they believe or what they've done. And this doesn't just happen on the dreaded Daily Mail website, either. I often read the Telegraph online, and today followed an unfolding dialogue between a woman who had had an abortion many years previously whilst still a student and regretted becoming unexpectedly pregnant (though she felt that her chosen cause of action was, on balance, the correct one) and a man who threw phrases such as "Shame on you for your folly in having sex with a man to whom you were not married!" at her. The woman responded in really quite a restrained manner considering what was being levelled at her. She didn't rise up in anger and use terms like "religious fundamentalist nutter" in response, which is what you see so often when abortion is discussed and pro-lifers try to get their point across. I am pro-life myself, and I read the man's comments and thought, "You are winning nobody round to your way of thinking. No sensible person is going to read what you say and be convinced of the sanctity of life if they weren't already. You are not a good example of the pro-life movement. You come across as simply bitter that you seem to be losing the fight against abortion, and are lashing out in fury."And over on the Guardian website, I read an article that provoked physical anger in me, because it suggested that Christian pro-lifers are not fit to counsel young women considering abortions and equated the term "anti-abortion" to being "anti-sex and fundamentalist" which, I'd wager, were not intended as compliments. Again, if the writer of the article was trying to win fence-sitters - or indeed pro-lifers - round to her way of thinking, she wasn't making a terribly successful job of it. I couldn't help comparing what was being said by people at opposite ends of the spectrum opinions-wise with a discussion I had with some of my friends on Facebook about abstinence and its place in the sex education curriculum.  The tone was altogether different, and although there was plenty of disagreement (and occasional hilarity) on the subject, there was also underlying respect. People suggested things I hadn't thought of, and though my mind wasn't changed, I was challenged. I hope others were too. 

I remember reading Barack Obama's book years ago, in which he explained carefully his views on abortion. And although he didn't manage to alter my pro-life stance, again I was challenged by his reasoning. He provoked thought in me without arousing fury at the same time. And I'm pretty sure that's the way to do it. There are a plethora of ways of supporting your cause, whatever it may be, and demonstrating that you are passionate about it and have given tremendous amounts of thought to why you believe it is worth supporting. Usually there's a dealbreaker for most people: a fact with which they believe there can be no real argument. And there's a way of conveying that dealbreaker to others without flinging insults and shouting people down and deliberately using provocative terms to describe others' views. No one is ever won round in such a manner. No well-thought-out decision on any important subject is ever made by someone covered in hurled mud. And this is what has given me pause for thought today. You can feel very strongly about something, and stand up passionately for that belief, without expressing yourself aggressively and offensively. You may not change the minds of those who oppose you, but you may sow a seed and make them stop to consider their own opinions. There are those who can offer financial support or generous amounts of time or publicity to a cause. And as the Bible verse Proverbs 12v18 says: "Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing". Yes indeed. 


17 December 2011

winter vegetable strudel

Last week the Co-Op members' magazine dropped through our letterbox, and I discovered inside a tasty recipe for roasted vegetables in tomato sauce all rolled deliciously up in puff pastry. I promptly mislaid the magazine but thought I'd remembered enough of the recipe to make it up as I went along, so armed with a block of shop-bought pastry, some vegetables that needed using up in the next couple of days, the bottom of a bottle of red wine and a star-shaped cookie cutter I got busy in the kitchen and came up with the following version of Winter Vegetable Strudel!

1 block or sheet of ready-made puff pastry (or home-made, if you're clever - unlike me!)
1 can chopped tomatoes
1 vegetable stock cube
a generous splash of red wine
salt and pepper to taste
plain flour
a selection of 6-8 diced vegetables, perhaps including potato, red pepper, courgette, carrot, swede, red onion and aubergine
olive oil
a beaten egg
baking sheet
pyrex dish
star-shaped pastry or biscuit cutter 
 
Preheat the oven to 220*C. Roast the vegetables with the oil and a little seasoning in the oven until they are soft inside and a little crispy at the edges (about 30 minutes, depending upon your oven). In the meantime, put the chopped tomatoes, wine and stock cube in a pan and heat gently, stirring occasionally, until mixed thoroughly together. Add a little plain flour in order to thicken the sauce, and stir until the whole mixture is uniformly textured and without floury lumps. Roll out the pastry into a rectangle and trim the edges so you have enough left over to cut out 6-8 pastry stars. Mix together the tomato sauce and roasted vegetables, then spoon onto the centre of the pastry and press the ends together to fashion a strudel on the baking sheet. Cut out as many pastry stars as will fit on your strudel, brush with beaten egg and bake for about 30 minutes or until it is golden brown. Enjoy with chips, roasted potatoes or crusty bread and a glass of wine in front of the fire on a cold winter's evening!

26 November 2011

special

If, like me, you have recently downgraded Jimmy Carr (along with Messrs Boyle and Gervais) from "Tolerably Amusing Comedian" to "Unkind Person who makes Unfunny and Offensive Jokes", I want to share a couple of lovely stories with you. The first one is called "The Smile That Melts Misconceptions" and features Taya, a little girl who has an extra chromosome and a modelling contract. After that, I can guarantee an honest, touching and articulate read on Alice's blog, Play on the Word. Alice and her husband Dave have three children, one of whom joined their family when he was nine months old. Mikey has Downs Syndrome, and Alice and Dave chose, specifically, to adopt him. This post, written in honour of World Downs Syndrome Day on 21st March, is beautiful. I don't need to add anything to it because it speaks for itself, but I have to say that in an age when so much is written and said about rights and choice and viability, it is truly a privilege to read something based so much on love and joy and the notion of blessings rather than burdens.

About 95% of children diagnosed prenatally with Downs Syndrome are never born. Alice, who is mother to a child who has Downs and so knows what she's talking about, says that "every fight, every nappy, every tantrum, every stare, every disastrous outing, every invite turned down is outweighed a thousandfold by the complete and utter joy and wonder of having Mikey." And the more I think about what it means to be pro-life, the more I believe that it needn't - and indeed probably shouldn't - involve arguments and placards and statistics, but instead an emphasis on joy and wonder and love. Mikey, Taya, the Prime Minister's late son Ivan and thousands of other children who have extra needs are precious and special and inspirational to those around them. They deserve to be born, they deserve to live and they deserve the opportunity to give and receive love. None of us are without needs and challenges, but we all have the chance to experience and share with others the richness of life, if only it is given to us in the first place. As Mikey's mother says, "We are poorer when we refuse to allow people with Downs Syndrome the chance at life". Who'd want to be poorer? Choose riches. Choose joy.

14 November 2011

give thanks

Last week, I learned about the Thankful Villages. According to BBC News online, these are British settlements where all those who served in one of the World Wars returned home, and those places who lost no one to either war have become known as "Doubly Thankful". The heartwarming article I read described a handful of villages who welcomed home every single young man who had bravely set out to fight all those years ago. Though none avoided the full horror and psychological or physical after-effects experienced by so many of the soldiers who did return alive, these villages were spared the disproportionate loss of life wreaked upon other parts of the country. How blessed they must have felt, especially those who had cause to be doubly thankful. How wonderful to be able to give thanks for the fact that someone precious has not been lost to you. What a simple, yet profound, gift is that of continued life, even though those returning from war had certainly not escaped unscathed.

Recently I visited a large shopping centre for the first time in many months. I dislike the crowds, noise and queuing associated with shopping in person at the best of times, but add two small children to the equation and the thought of entering the Metro Centre during the run-up to Christmas practically brings me out in a rash. However, Ben needed to visit the Genius Bar in the Apple store, and the ratio of adults to children promised to facilitate a comparatively pleasant shopping trip. As we strolled through John Lewis and purchased Christmas pyjamas for the children, I was reminded of how consumer-based life can become if it's allowed to do so. There were so many lovely things on offer! It would be really easy to give in to the temptation of wanting to own more stuff than we already do, and justifying it by telling myself that the children need even more clothes (which they don't), or that we never get to go out in the evenings so we deserve even more DVDs to watch (despite being LoveFilm members), or that it's about time I treated myself to a load of new post-pregnancy clothes (although I still have plenty of weight to lose before I ought to be buying any new clothes).

My dad has worked with Habitat for Humanity since his retirement, and every time he goes on an expedition to a different country and helps to build houses for people who need somewhere to live, he returns with stories of how grateful they are simply to have a roof over their heads. Many have experienced hardship, poverty, bereavement and challenges beyond anything I can imagine, but are still incredibly grateful for the little they have. These people, and those who lived in the Thankful Villages in the twentieth century, are such an inspiration to me. They challenge me just to be grateful for what I have at the start of each day. To try and stop myself from imagining how much easier and better my life would be if I had this, that and the next thing, and instead to start giving thanks for the many things, both astonishingly wonderful and simple, with which I have been blessed: the promise of salvation and eternal life, a lovely and loving family, friends who I so much appreciate, a home, food on the table and good health, to name only a few of those things. I regularly follow a blog called Lemonade Makin' Mama, whose Christian author has hanging in her kitchen a chalkboard inscribed with the words "Give Thanks" (1 Thessalonians 5v18). I need the daily reminder to be grateful in all circumstances, and am grateful to have received it this past week. Go and read about the Thankful Villages; you'll be glad you did.

8 November 2011

reasonably virtuous cookies

Readers of my family blog will know that in the weeks surrounding Daniel's birth I embarked upon a quest to discover the perfect sultana cookie, aka the cookie rated most highly by Ben. The best I've managed so far is a cookie which provoked the response "Mmm! Can I order some more of these?" and whilst this in no way implies perfection, I feel encouraged in my journey! These very cookies are in fact featured at the top of my blog, accompanied by tea and the wherewithall to drink it. They are not made from my own recipe, but an amalgam of two others: one a lowish-fat oat recipe I found online, and Nigella Lawson's cranberry and white chocolate cookie recipe featured in her lovely book Feast. In the spirit of sharing, here's how to make Reasonably Virtuous Cookies - enjoy them with a cup of tea as the weather gets colder!

85g butter or Stork
115g soft brown sugar
115g self-raising flour
1 beaten egg
55g porridge oats
100g white chocolate chips
100g dried cranberries

Beat together the butter and sugar, then stir in the flour and egg and cream everything together to form a firm cookie dough. Mix in the oats, then add and mix in the chocolate chips and cranberries. Dollop medium-sized spoonfuls of the dough onto lined baking trays, and bake at 180* for about 20 minutes until the cookies are golden brown and springy to the touch. Makes between 10 and 16, depending upon your size preference. Eat at least one whilst still warm!