Never Underestimate the Power of a Muffin

-with Debby Thompson

As a family of three, we waited in Vienna for the Polish Communist government to grant our visas, which would permit us to move into their country. Though inconvenient, this indefinite holding pattern created the perfect environment for forging lasting friendships.

On a bright May morning in 1977, my inquisitive 19-month-old daughter sat unanchored in the backseat of a Volkswagen bug. Wide-eyed, she could only wonder about her mother’s antics. Together—I behind the wheel and she in the rear—we rocked back and forth in my doggedness to transport us to the outskirts of the city. 

My missionary realities drove me (literally) to attempt wrestling this red bucking bronco: my little girl needed children with whom to play, and I needed the company of another mom. In short, I needed a morning away with a friend.

A set of borrowed keys held my ticket for this desired outing, but there was a glitch. The vehicle was manual stick shift transmission, not automatic. Never mind. Larry gave me a tutorial in stick shift driving on the day before. I was determined that my daughter and I would not be held hostage to first gear, second gear, and much less reverse. Consequently, on the cobblestone streets of a foreign country—Vienna, Austria—I mastered (?) the rudimentary motions enough to set out on my own. 

Thank goodness, it was not raining on the morning of our maiden voyage. Apprehensively, Larry watched as I maneuvered the vehicle out of its parking spot, and tentatively into the stream of traffic on Hohe Warte Strasse in the Grinzing district of the city. He calculated this as the first of our many turns ahead. Would see his wife and his child again? Unyielding traffic lights, pedestrians with shopping baskets, mothers with prams, and unforgiving trams stood between this man and his family’s return. The wave of his hand was weak.

One way or another, this mother-daughter combo proceeded through the European traffic lights, dodged the Viennese pedestrians, negotiated around the Austrian mothers and prams, and navigated shared space with the clanking trams. Motoring alongside the Danube River, we eventually arrived safely in Sankt Andrä-Wördern, Austria. Without automatic transmission, without seatbelts, without GPS, we made it! Whew. I crawled out from behind the wheel, and reached into the back seat to collect my little sweetheart and her toddler belongings.

Vivian, with her children in tow, met us at the door of her home. A bright smile and a friendly hug assured me that the precarious drive from the city was worth every challenging kilometer.

After viewing her lovely home and garden, Vivian and I meandered back inside. We sat across from each other at their newly acquired Polish crafted table while drinking dark, rich, strong coffee, and devouring a batch of freshly made Banana Oatmeal Muffins. My soul experienced a unique solace as conversation flowed easily between the two of us.

Much too quickly, the morning evaporated, and the return trip loomed ahead. Glibly, I assumed if we made it out, we would make it back to the city. Before saying our goodbyes, Vivian wrote out the recipe for the Banana Oatmeal Muffins we enjoyed. Roaring off in a cloud of dust, I left with far more than a recipe; I left knowing I had a new friend.

Vivian and I would go on to share much more than Banana Oatmeal Muffins. Our road of friendship was destined to travel birthdays and holidays, heartaches and hard lessons, conferences and cancer. Ahead there would be clandestine ministry behind The Wall, and witnessing the Fall of that same Wall. Our friendship would endure moves across borders, moves across oceans. Vivian and I would thank God when we landed on our feet, and would reach down to pull the other up when one of us stumbled and fell. No wonder the Bible says, “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (18:24b). I think the Bible speaks of one like Vivian.

And to think… it all began with a Banana Oatmeal Muffin. 

From the original faded copy in Vivian’s handwriting that May morning in 1977, I transcribed the 1977 recipe to share with you.

Ingredients:

1 cup flour
3 T. sugar (raw, if you have it)
2 ½ t. bäckpulver (baking powder)
½ t. salt
1 cup oats
1 beaten egg
1 cup mashed ripe banana
¼ cup milk
2 T. oil

Instructions:

Sift together flour, sugar, and baking powder, salt

Stir in oats

Separately, mix remaining ingredients, add all at once to dry ingredients, stirring just enough to moisten

Fill 12 well-greased muffin pans 2/3 full

Bake at 400° (200° C.) for 20-25 minutes

Now forty-one years later, I suggest you invite someone to share these with you when you remove them from the oven. And remember, never underestimate the power of a muffin.

Living With Eternal Intentionality™

Who in you life comes to mind when you read Proverbs 18:24b?

What plans do you have to invite someone over for coffee and a muffin?

A Figure of Extreme Danger

We went through fire and water. A figure of extreme danger. (Ellicott's Commentary for English Readers)

“Oh God, how I can do this? You have got to help me. I have never felt this helpless in my entire life.” Caught in the throes of desperation, this missionary wife and mom needed Jesus as never before.

We went through fire and water, but You brought us to a place of abundance (Psalm 66:12b NIV).

It was the summer of 1977, and Larry and I, with our Baby Girl, were students in a summer language program in Lublin, Poland. We were trained for culture shock, but this shock was way beyond our preparation. This was Communism. Nothing could have adequately trained a free American for this. We were living a dual life behind the Iron Curtain; we were behind the lines of NATO. Alone didn’t begin to describe the isolation created by a covert, undercover lifestyle.

The iron fist of Communism screamed around every corner. Economic deprivation was astounding. Routine tasks became monumental. A simple phone call to my parents in the U.S required us to make a reservation 48 hours in advance, and then on the appointed day, we waited two hours in the post office for the international operator to connect the call. Once the call was connected, our conversations were hyper-guarded for personal safety.

Life was far more challenging than I expected. We washed our clothes in a wringer washer in the concrete basement of our housing facility. There was no dryer, and the cool summer weather made drying clothes especially difficult. Food lines outside of nearly-empty stores resembled black and white movie clips from The Great Depression.

Language school was far more challenging than I anticipated. My high school Spanish class paled in comparison to this. The Polish language was daunting. I felt so stupid.

And, lingering questions, like “How did I get here?” were far more threatening than even the cultural turmoil. How did I end up as a clandestine missionary in a Communist country? How did I find myself walking the streets of a town a mere 97 kilometers, 60 miles from the Soviet border? How could I have landed in a place with the gruesome remains, buildings, photographs, and personal effects of the Nazi concentration camp Majdanek? How screamed at me!

Recalling my personal history reminded me that I grew up in a Christian home, and I became a follower of Christ at an early age. As a little 3rd grade girl I believe God wanted me to be a missionary. Yet, for years my relationship with God was laced with fear, fear that He would ruin my life and send me to Africa as a missionary.

Then, at university, I met a group of students who had a smile on their face, a spring in the step and a song in their heart. They were marching to the beat of a different drum, and I joined their ranks. Our clarion call was “Come help change the world.” My manifesto before God was declared, “Anything, Anytime, Anywhere.”

Soon after, I met and fell in love with a young football player. His proposal was “Will you go with me in helping to reach the world for Christ?” My “yes” to that question, and the supernatural call of God on our lives, now placed me right here on this unfamiliar piece of earth in eastern Poland.  

“Oh God, p l e a s e help me. If I am going to survive, You must intervene. You must help me in a way I have never experienced.” My prayer gushed from an honest, confused, hurting, aching heart held out before God.

And. God. Intervened. Deep down, in the depths of my soul, in the power of His Word, God took over.  He marched right across Communism, right across culture shock, right across my emotional vulnerability, and met me, Debby, with the words of Psalm 139:9-10: “Though I dwell on the far side of the sea, even there Your Hand will guide me, Your right Hand will hold me fast.”

The Holy Spirit threw a Lifeline, and I grabbed it. I held on for dear life. Right there in a Communist coffee shop, surrounded by a language I could not understand, heaven descended and brought peace to my troubled, broken heart. Just what I needed most, just when I needed it most. God showed up - right then, right there.

In 1977 In Lublin, Poland In His Word  

That dark day I discovered the light of a lesson I will never forget, a lesson that laid the foundation for the 12,045 days of the 33 years to follow:

When I was most desperate, He was most dependable. Geography is not an issue to God. “I will never leave you or forsake you,” is for real. (Hebrews 13:8)

We went through fire and water, but you brought us to a place of abundance (Psalm 66:12b NIV).

Living With Eternal Intentionality

When is the last time you most needed God and He gloriously showed up?

Expressing My Regret

Meet my respected friend Kit Coons. As humorous speakers specializing in strengthening relationships, Kit and Drew Coons have spoken all over the US and in 39 other countries.  They have published many articles and are the authors of four novels and six Bible studies on difficult topics. They are keen cultural observers and incorporate their many adventures into their writing and speaking. The Coonses are unique in that they speak and write as a team. You can learn more on their website https://morethanordinarylives.com/ 

As my guest, Kit agreed to share her recent post from http://kitcoons.blogspot.com/ 

Forgiveness:  “Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.” Colossians 3:13  

“Do you remember what you tell everyone at the conference about how to handle conflict?” I confronted Drew?  “No ‘you’ statements, stick to one issue, don’t bring up the past, no personal attacks.”      

Not surprisingly, that didn’t get a good response. But then, I didn’t respond well either when I heard Drew say,

“Excuse me. What about how you tell everyone to give a blessing for an insult? I don’t think your accusation was a blessing.”     

Drew and I have had the privilege to teach biblical principles of relationships for many years. Undoubtedly, teaching those principles has enriched our marriage. But at times we’ve wished we had never heard those principles. Knowing and doing are two vastly different things. I had been caught by my own words, and there is nothing worse. Well, actually there is. When we refuse to look at our behavior, admit our fault, and extend forgiveness, the consequences are far greater.     

Living in harmony together is no small task. And the challenge is not limited to one country or people. Part of the joy Drew and I receive from international travel is the opportunity to see the universality of marriage. Because of different cultures, marriage may look different. But men and women’s hearts are the same wherever you go. We all struggle with how to live in harmony with other people, even those we love.     

After one time of disharmony in our relationship, Drew came to me to ask forgiveness. But as he thought about his words, he said,

“I’ve actually come to express regret.I know you have already forgiven me.” He was right. I had forgiven him shortly after the words were spoken because I have learned that to not forgive only hurts me.     

God does the same thing. His forgiveness was made available to us when He died for our sins. When I come to Him after I have chosen to sin, I come to express my regret. I know He has already forgiven me. My sin cannot take His forgiveness away. Nevertheless, expressing our regret to another person or to God is the way to restore our relationship.     

Forgiveness is the glue that holds any relationship together. In our relationship with God, His forgiveness makes the relationship possible. In our relationships with others, forgiveness also makes the relationship possible. Is there someone that needs your forgiveness? Well, really is there someone you need to forgive for your own good? Now would be the perfect time to extend your forgiveness.

Research has shown that the ability to forgive is the foremost reason a person will have a happy life. I agree.