Mushrooming--An Incredible Conversation Starter

One of the things I enjoyed most about this trip was finding edible wild mushrooms many places, and 

discovering how carrying them around sparked interesting conversations with perfect strangers!

 

 People would be awed at these huge mushrooms, ask questions, and beg to take pictures of them. Even foreigners would ask, and it was a delight to find a reason to look perfect strangers in the eye and smile at them. A small way of sharing the love of Christ.
 Carrying around mushrooms is how we met a family who home schools, and whose oldest son is a missionary in Russia right now. They were very eager to learn about mushrooms. We told them the little we knew and encouraged them to research and learn for themselves!

 Best of all, the mushrooms were good to eat!

A Ukrainian lady that Jonathan worked for a year or two ago had shared some wild mushrooms with us which she had gathered in the mountains, and which Jonathan and I learned to enjoy eating. We had sliced them and dried them, then froze them and used them from time to time.

The above picture was a big mushroom we found near Brooks Lake, south of Grand Teton Nat'l Park, the morning we were there.

Below, Jonathan and Hannah take a higher trail to look for more mushrooms.

 Jonathan found a similar mushroom, which we were afraid of because we did not know if it was edible or not. So believe me, we did NOT eat it.

The one on the left is for sure edible, called a bollette, with a wide stem and flesh that looks like a sponge. We recognized it instantly as exactly like the ones we'd eaten last year.

The one on the right has fins on the underside.

 Below is what the two look like on top--very similar except the one with fins, on the right,

kind of goes down in the middle while the edible one puffs up rounder.

We found out that all bollettes are edible, though there are many varieties. 

Of course, you have to clean them before you eat them, preferably just carefully brushing them off, or rinsing sparingly, because you don't want soggy mushrooms to saute.

 Later that day, along this stream down from Lewis Falls, just into Yellowstone Park, we found more.

 Here Jonathan is cutting one off at ground level. The Ukrainian lady told us that you should cut it off rather than pull it out of the ground, as many people do, in order to give it a chance to grow back. She said they will grow back if you just harvest them by cutting rather than pulling the whole plant.

 On another day, after a picnic near Nez Perce River, we went looking again. A park worker told us you are allowed to forage a certain amount of wild plants per day per person in Yellowstone.

 There Jonathan and Steve found several tender young mushrooms which we sauteed. Here is what they look like on the underside, where you have to look to make sure they are edible.

 This huge bollette mushroom has white flesh on top and yellow on the underside. You slice it up and saute it, and yum! I learned later that wild mushrooms contain more iron, ounce for ounce, than red meat!

 On this morning we still had mushrooms left, which we sauteed after bacon and with skillet toast and eggs.

 It was such a delectable breakfast. I got my bowl of mushroom, egg, bacon, and skillet toast with a cup of hot berry zinger tea, and I felt so rich. Meal after meal with edible wild mushrooms rich in nutrients, giving us energy!

There is something so fulfilling about learning about finding your own food in the wild, instead of buying everything at the store and sticking only with the familiar. 

We had taken our own food for the six-day trip, as we knew it would be expensive to buy food in Yellowstone. (How about one scoop of icecream for $3.95?) We probably saved ourselves hundreds of dollars by cooking for ourselves. 

Gas at one place in Yellowstone was way over $4 a gallon. Most of the time along the trip in WY or MT, Jonathan's points worked to get $1 off per gallon of gas, which helped considerably.

Unsuspected!

A picture is worth a thousand words.

And obviously I was not the one taking these ones!

You are just walking along innocently, enjoying life on a trail from a waterfall in Yellowstone,

and all unsuspecting, you are threatened to be doused with a bottle of water

by your very own sweet, beautiful, wonderful daughter!

 It can be the ones closest to you who drench you in tears.

The unsuspected happens.

And there follows the cascade of tears. 

 Someday the mists of the Lower Falls in Yellowstone, 

the mists of the Low Times,

 will be all swept away, but in the present,

it is hard to see the rainbow in the mist--

even though it is there!

 Right now all you can see is the brink of the disaster,

the pouring torrent.

All you can hear is the thunderous roar.

 You turn around and see the unsuspecting water coming flowing around the corner of the canyon.

Does it dream what is coming next?

And you think about how Christ warned that just like a snare would come the day of Judgment on the face of the whole earth. 

Like the sudden surprise of the edge of the 300-plus-foot cliff under the water

will come the day of Christ.

 The thought of it brings a bit of pain to your heart,

because even if you feel that you are ready yourself, you have to think about those who aren't.

And you turn once again to look over the brink at the thundering waters 

pouring thousands of gallons a second

down into the canyon. 

And you think about the unsuspected, and the unexpecting, and the unexpected.

 

Is there a way to turn all this pain around?

You look at that water churning toward the precipice, and then flying straight into the air,

and turning white and whirling around

and capturing oxygen on its way down. 

You look at the mist and the cloud of water and remember that somewhere down there

is a rainbow.

Because God never leaves us without hope,

without joy, 

and without grace.

There is always the rainbow of His provision--both spiritual and physical!

 Two days after we came home, we heard that there might be a heavy freeze last night.

We had been watching the forecast.

We had been paying attention to the weather, because we had gardens and flowers.

Little did we know that this morning our tree and grass would look like this.

 But we did expect a frost or freeze, and we prepared for it.

We took pictures of the beautiful little garden that the girls had managed to cultivate around our mailbox

before covering it.

 We took one last look at our gorgeous flower garden in front of our porch.

 And as the cold, wet weather rolled in from the mountains and bluffs,

we covered all our flowers and raised beds with whatever we could find.

You wouldn't know that was a mailbox with flowers under it.

Carrie was determined to save her flowers for a few more weeks.

 Rose was determined to save her tomatoes and cucumbers and beets.

 And flowers and zucchini.

I was out with the others hunting for old quilts and comforters and tarps and roofing pieces piled up from what Jonathan had brought home to put in the trash,

to protect our plants from the imminent cold.

 And in the dangers and disasters of our day,

we can find shelter under something better than quilts and blankets and sheets of plastic.

We can find shelter under a Rock.

 Because God's faithfulness is like the great mountains.

 It reaches to the clouds above the Grand Tetons.

 And while waterfalls and tears often happen unexpectedly,

so do joys and mercies!

All unexpected, we are crowned with God's lovingkindness and tender mercies.

 Every evening and morning, His mercies are new.

His love is showered upon us in countless ways.

 His strength carries us, when we can't go on.

And the same daughter who threatened to douse you now begs to have the fun of carrying you.

Sometimes the very ones who caused you the most trouble

will bring you the most joy--if you will wait patiently for it.

It will be your children who will remind you to look on the bright side of things... 

 and who will lift your spirits when you are sagging.

Because it is your choice whether you focus on the unsuspected problems--

or the unexpected blessings,

the cascade of tears,

or the cascade of grace.

The tears or the rainbow, the black of night or the scarlet poppy in the sunlight.

Be surprised at the unexpected grace

of today.

Old Faithful Gets Tired, Too

When we visited Yellowstone National Park last week, we learned that Old Faithful geyser isn't quite as faithful as she used to be.

Perhaps she is getting old. 

Perhaps she is tired.

But where she used to perform punctually about every 45 minutes to an hour, now she might just blow every hour to hour and a half. 

You never know now about Old Faithful. 

People sit around waiting for her to perform--

sort of like they sit around waiting for moms to perform.

Or dads. 

Or just about anyone.

 Old Faithful is the geyser most to be counted on in Yellowstone Park. There are many other geysers, but some only spout rarely, and some very irregularly. Or else they are small and not very noticeable.

But it is Old Faithful that brings the crowd to Yellowstone.

Here is the north entrance gate to Yellowstone, through which we passed on our way back from Bozeman, Montana, on a part of our trip which we regretted, but that is another story.

 "For the enjoyment and benefit of the people," is the inscription above this gate.

Which could be said about mothers.

Or dads.

Or grandmas.

Or just about anyone.

"For the enjoyment and benefit of the people."

And there they sit.

 The people. Hundreds of them, waiting for Old Faithful to--

cook the next meal.

Wash the dishes.

Sweep the floor.

Mend the clothes.

Make sure the kids behave.

Sort, scrub, launder, hang, dry, sort, and put away clothes.

Teach the class[es].

Check out the path to the next adventure so everyone is happy.

 Fix the motor home transmission (or pay someone to do it).

Work the job.

Pay the bills.

Pay the crew.

Pay the overdue bills.

Pay the fines.

Drive the vehicle.

Find your way through road construction. Make Plan A.

Ditch plan A. Make plan B. 

Ditch plan B. Make plan C.

 Finally look at the map. Retrace your steps.

 Explain to everyone why you are seeing the same thing three times.

Mind the kids.

Tend the kids.

Feed the kids.

Water the kids.

Go on walks with the little kids while the older ones fly ahead.

Try to please everyone.

Amuse the kids.

Go bonkers with the kids.

Oops. I mean children. But sometimes--I have to admit, you just feel like calling them

kids.

                                                   Especially after six days in a motor home.

That's when big brothers start facing the expectations.

Carry the kids.

 And big sisters--fry bacon for the kids.

 And so there are all these hundreds of spectators and great expectations.

And the Lucas family waits to see Old Faithful,

who has grown rather tired with all the 

years of performing,

with all the spectators and expectations.

 Still--there she goes. 

Once again, oblivious to cameras and commotion,

chatterings and cheerings,

complaints and jeerings,

Old Faithful does 

exactly what God intended for her to do.
And no more.

 Old Faithful goes right on doing what God wants her to do whether it is winter or summer,

day or night, easy or hard,

whether people are there with cameras or not.
But Old Faithful can only do what God intended for her to do, and no more.
There will always be impatient people who wish Old Faithful would perform four times an hour
instead of only once in 90 minutes.
There will always be those who think you really should be doing more than you are doing--
instead of taking time for joy, love, and laughter.

There are months out of the year when there is not a single person taking a picture of Old Faithful's
faithful performance--when the park is closed, or the night is dark.
 And most of the time, there will not be a single person photographing or congratulating or complimenting or even being thankful for what you do 

day after day after day--

cooking meals...

 making sure everyone brushes their teeth...

(we won't confess how many--or how few--times we actually brushed our teeth on this trip)

 doing the never ending laundry...

(although if doing the laundry were as romantic and charming as this, more people would snap 

photos of it)...

 and all the other things you are supposed to do.

So Old Faithful bubbles and blows,

roars and rasps,

steams and simmers.

 And then disappears underground

where she spends far more time than performing out in the open.

And you wonder what is going on inside and underground,

when Old Faithful is out of sight,

after the steam has blown away, and gallons and gallons of warm water are washing under the boardwalk around it, just gurgling by, waiting for curious little children to feel how warm it is.

What is going on in all those geysers in the quiet hours when no one can see anything?

 Those times when nobody is around,

when there is nothing but the humdrum

and the common and the ordinary,

when no one is taking pictures

or clapping or cheering,

(or even complaining and fussing)

when it is just you and God?

 What is God doing in those quiet, dark times

that can sometimes be so difficult?

The times when God is silent? When everything seems so dark?

When you look for answers and can't find them?

When you call and hear no response?

When you are too tired to care?

Down underneath,

in the underground,

in the darkness,

in the confusion, under the stresses of expectations and tiredness and illness

and financial burdens,

God is working out His purpose.

God is working out His plan.

It may not be as gushy as a geyser,

or serene as a sunset,

but God is working out His plan.

All He asks is our faithful obedience.