jessica makes: almond breakfast cookies

Confession: these are adapted from a recipe I found on pinterest which you can view HERE. My cookies turned out drastically different than what I imagine they were supposed to turn out like. That's probably because I really didn't follow their recipe and I think I got the wrong almond flour/meal. Maybe I should say my recipe was inspired by their recipe? Yes, that's it. I guess I should also admit that these really aren't breakfast cookies. They just pair so perfectly with coffee that it would really be a crime to not have them in the morning for breakfast. There's nothing too shameful in them, so it's completely acceptable to eat them for breakfast.

When I found this recipe, I knew I had to try it because I love almond. Not like. Not like like. I love the bold, yet subtly sweet flavor of almond. I really don't care for almonds though. I don't make sense, I know. I think it's because I've eaten almonds like it was my job during all of my different dieting phases and so now, when I eat an almond, it just doesn't do it for me. I love almond flavored things though (says the girl who is currently sipping on an almond americano) so I knew that almond cookies would be a slam dunk. 

Here's what you need:

1 c Almond Meal

1 heaping tbsp of coconut oil

1/2 tsp almond extract

1 egg

1/4 c brown sugar 

First, melt the coconut oil put it in your mixing bowl. Then add everything else. Seriously. It doesn't matter what order you put it in. Just put it all in there and mix it. If the cookie isn't sweet enough for you, you could add some agave or more brown sugar. If you do this, you'll probably have to add some more almond meal, just so it doesn't become too runny. I found that the brown sugar I originally addd was perfect. Not too sweet, but just sweet enough. The perfect combination for breakfast.  I used a tablespoon to ball out the dough, rolled it in my palms, and then placed it on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. I recommend flattening them a little, but not too much. You want them to remain chewy. 

While the oven preheats, you should really take a selfie with your cookies. You should also probably take a picture of your shoes. It passes the time you have to wait for the oven to preheat. Oh, what's that you say? Preheat the oven before you start making your cookies? You're a genius. 

Oh yeah. Preheat the oven to 325 degrees. Bake for 12-15 minutes. 

And voila! 

Now you've got some deliciously chewy, almond cookies that pair perfectly with a cup of joe. The recipe only makes about ten cookies, so don't expect a ton, but with cookies this delicious, maybe it's best that we don't keep too many in our homes. 

nostalgia is a four letter word

I've been weepy recently. I know, what else is new, right? My thoughts have been drifting towards Korea a lot. First it was the absolutely horrific ferry accident that rocked the country several weeks ago. Then I was distracted by the pictures from those who are living the life I lived over there for more than eleven months. Some I know, some I've never met. But I feel a connection to them. We've walked the same streets, taught the same children, lived in the same apartments, yet the people over there (with the exception of several) have no idea who I am, though I feel as though they are kindred spirits. I'm slightly jealous of them. They're doing the things I did and falling in love with a place that I'm in love with. Their present is my past, but that means nothing to them. It's hard to not look at that experience through rose colored glasses. Sometimes I wish I could just teleport myself back to soak up some of those experiences again. The truth is that if I were to magically arrive there, it would be entirely different. There would be no Cameron & Lisa, no Kait & Doug, no Thomas & Bethany, no Seo Kyung Hwa, and no Shim Hyun Seok. My life over there wouldn't really exist like it did in 2011 and 2012. The people that made that place home aren't there anymore, they're back in America. 

Sometimes my mind drifts back to that place and those people, our experiences that are so precious simply because we shared them. I think of how terrified I was when I went to LAX, knowing full well that I was saying goodbye to my family for a while. There was no "see you soon," it was "see you in a year." I remember hugging my dad out at the car. He couldn't come in to the airport with us. He said it's so we wouldn't have to park the car and he could just drive it around, but I think it's because he is emotional and he knows he would have shown it. I think of hugging my mom and sisters that one last time before leaving to go through security. I remember being in line, turning around to get one last look and seeing my mom waving frantically, with tears rolling down her face. I quickly turned around before all of my courage left me. I wanted to be strong and brave, but really, I felt like a little girl going on an adventure far too big.  I remember spending my first weekend holed up in my teeny, tiny room. I ate McDonalds and watched endless hours of Friday Night Lights. We all cope in our own way. I then remember meeting Cameron and Lisa. They invited me to go to Costco with them and showed me where the best place was to do laundry. I was grateful to be included in something. We instantly connected over shared taste in books, music, and television shows. We swapped quotes from The Office. Life started to feel normal right around that moment. I felt slightly settled. It's funny how a little bit of comfort can go a long way when you're so far from anything you know. They introduced me to Doug & Kait. We formed a little family. It was the five of us. There were others, of course, that we would spend time with, but at the end of the day- they were the ones who I spent most of my time with. 

I think of the weather changing and how when it became cooler, my heart followed suit. I experienced the second wave of homesickness that I thought I'd be immune from. Thanksgiving was hard. I tried my hardest to be thankful, but in reality, I just wanted to be back at home. Slowly but surely, I began to feel okay again. It took a while. I remember a lot of tears. I remember feeling guilty that I wasn't thankful for the experience. I remember walking home from Seo Kyung Hwa's apartment after she had brought me home from school and I made myself vocalize my thanks the entire way home. Some of them were big and important thanks and others were small, like my thankfulness for endless colors of nail polish that were less than a dollar at Etude House which was conveniently located just steps from my apartment. I remember when Thomas and Bethany arrived. We connected over coffee and board games at the coffee shop by our homes. They were such a seamless addition to our little family. Sometimes I think about the nights we spent at Baby Bar. None of us actually know what it was named, but we called it Baby Bar because there were weird baby dolls all over it. We loved that place though and I spent far too much money on their large glasses of house wine that turned out to be Carlo Rossi. They served this weird little crackers and whipped cream. It sounds like an odd combination, and it definitely was, but we ate it up because that's just what we did.  One of the things I yearn for most when I think about that experience is the simplicity of it all. I walked to and from the school I worked at. I didn't know my students names but that was okay because they wanted me to call them things like "Mario" and "Harry Potter" instead. I ate simply and enjoyed my routine of running after work or walking to the gym on the street corner where a Korean friend helped me negotiate a membership. I would always see Shim Hyun Seok there. He was a blessing. He worked at the same school as I did and managed to always end up in my office at the end of the day to chat or watch silly Youtube videos. We still keep in touch, but it's not the same. I miss those moments we spent together. 

I was so ready to leave Korea that sometimes I think I didn't fully grasp how wonderful it was until I had been back in the states several months. I know that I romanticize things, so it should be noted that not all of my experiences in Korea were lovely. Some were hard, some were very trying, and others were down right discouraging. I was ready to come back and now I have a job that I could have only dreamed of having, but sometimes I think to myself what life would look like if I went back. It wouldn't be the same, it wouldn't be nearly as wonderful. I think we got lucky when we discovered each other over in that city halfway around the world. I can't fathom having those experiences with anyone else.  I sometimes fear that I'm doing the same thing to my job now that I did to my time in Korea. I'm not soaking it up and being entirely present. I have this problem of getting too concerned with what's next. I have trouble setting down my anchor and letting myself just be. I'm fearful of looking back on this time, this truly wonderful time and realizing I didn't savor it enough. Nostalgia is a wonderful thing, but sometimes it can be a real beezy. Maybe I'm just overcome with sappiness because I'm getting ready to say goodbye to the girls that I've spent the last nine months with. Whatever the reason, it's interesting to think that so much of my hear resides over the ocean, without a home. I reallythink when you exist for so long in one place, there's a part of you that will always remain there. 

r to the e to the verse

One of the most parts of my childhood were report cards. Do you remember that sick feeling you'd get when it was report card time? I was not a fan. It's not that I wasn't smart or that my grades were bad, it was that there was always the same comment that followed me throughout elementary, middle, and high school.  "Jessica is a great student but talks too much during class."  I got better at controlling it in high school. College was even better. I started to learn when it was appropriate to speak and better to sit quietly. Unfortunately, just because you get better at controlling your tongue, doesn't mean you master it.  I recently had an "oops" moment. I let my mouth fly off the handle. My words were careless. I spoke for a reaction and not a purpose. As soon as I spoke, I wished I could just reverse the clock and have a do-over of that situation. Unfortunately, life doesn't work like that, although sometimes I wish it did. Nobody mentioned anything in the moment so I hoped my careless comments had slipped by without anyone taking notice. But that's not the way things work either. You speak and people listen. It's such a blessing and a curse. A woman that was there when I spoke and is sort of a mentor to me pulled me aside yesterday and corrected me. It stung, but I also know it was necessary. She wasn't mad at me, she just values me enough to correct me and hold me accountable to the things I say and do. I instantly took full responsibility for what I said but my first reaction was, "Get me out of here." I have a pretty weird reaction to accountability. I love it. I love that my friends love me enough to care about the things I say and do, but I never want to let people down so I am terrified of when I have to own up to things. For a twenty six year old woman, I still can act like a child a lot of the time.  I wish that I always made the right choice 100% of the time. I wish that the things I said were always good and lovely. I wish that my thoughts were always pure and Godly. I wish that I was better than I am, but I'm not. I'm just trudging through this world making one flip comment at a time and then tuckin' my tail. It's good to always be learning and growing, but sometimes I wish it didn't hurt like it does. 

never trust the snow

Despite the misleading title of this blog, I am not super adventurous. I long to be more adventurous (see what I did there?) but I often allow fear to keep me at bay. This weekend, a group of my friends decided to go skiing. I made excuses right away for why I couldn't go. 
Oh, I would but I don't have snow stuff.
I should really work on my paper. 
I'm not any good. 
Isn't it foolish how fear can keep us from doing really small things? Honestly, I was afraid I wouldn't be good and was afraid I'd embarrass myself. I got a sudden burst of bravery, or rather, I came to my senses and said, "Sure! Count me in!" I called up a friend to borrow some snow gear and headed up to 'ol Bogus Basin with my pals on Sunday evening. 
I haven't skied since I was just a wee lass. I am pretty sure the last time I went was before I was in second grade, so yeah, you could say it's been a while. I did go snowboarding once in high school but that one time was enough to keep me from wanting to try it again. I didn't get out of bed the next day because I was so sore from toppling down the mountain. I thought instead of subjecting myself to that torture again, I'd try my hand at skiing again. 
My friends are lovely people, but they are not the greatest of teachers. I hopped on my skis and hit the bunny slope with my friend Justin, who had never skied before. We rode the magic carpet up, obviously. There was no way I was getting on the lift. Last time I went on a lift, I fell off and got smacked in the back of the head with the chair part. It was not my most glamorous moment. The magic carpet was right up my alley. The first time I rode down the hill, I handled it like a champ. I was feeling pretty good about myself and came dangerously close to renaming myself, "Picabo Street." I hopped up on the magic carpet again, but my second run didn't go as seamlessly as my first. I started going so fast and had no idea how to slow myself down let alone stop, so instead of running straight into a the base of the life (which was dead ahead), I decided to throw myself down into the snow. Real classy. I tried to hop right up, but there's something oddly unnatural about having giant slick sticks attached to your feet. It makes normal tasks incredibly difficult. My friends laughed at me while I tried to get up and then a very nice lady tried to help me up. It didn't work very well so I took off my skis, got up, and put them back on. My third run looked exactly like the second run, fall and all, and a very handsome red jacketed stranger tried to help me up. I said, "Leave me here. I don't want anyone to see me like this." He chuckled awkwardly and then proceeded to bear hug me up. Thank you, Angel in red, and yes, yes I will be your wife. 
I continued to fall a ton because I'm just not super great at anything that causes feet to lose touch with the ground. After a lot of falling, getting back up, and riding the magic carpet, our group decided to ride the lift up to the lodge at the top of the mountain for some food. I was told that there was an easy path down the mountain and I stupidly believed my friends. I know, I'm a fool. The ride up the lift went exactly as you could imagine it did. I fell while trying to get off and the operator stopped things immediately and ran up to me to make sure I was okay. Dazed and slightly embarrassed, I laughed it off and proceeded to hobble with one ski on to the side to regroup. I decided to take both skis off and walk down to the lodge because the hill was just so steep. I knew I could ski down it, but I also knew I couldn't stop and that I would just end up slamming into something or falling again. 
The time in the lodge was a welcomed break from the treacherous outside. We laughed, ate, and swapped stories. It was great. I knew time was coming for us to head back outside and I just wasn't feeling it, so I asked a strange man if I could ride down back to the base of the mountain with him in his van. I know, I know. I'm an idiot. This kind man said yes, but my friends told me I wasn't allowed to do that. I got back into my skis and said a quick prayer. It was time to get down that bad boy. I went down the "easy" path with my friends Mary and Justin. The rest of our group were basically Olympians and went down the hard path. No thank you. I fell two times within the first five minutes and couldn't get back up. I laughed so hard but was also super frustrated. I reconsidered ditching all my gear and going to find the nice man who so sweetly offered to drive me down in the woods, in the snow, and in the dark. What a gem, right? 
There seemed to be a little fork in the path and Mary told us to follow her, so Justin and I did. When your friend who has done something before tells you to follow her, you do. Here's where it starts to go so wrong. She actually led us off the path instead of keeping us on it. We fell into four feet of fresh snow. My skis were sticking straight up and I was crying laughing. It was a worst case scenario. Justin proceeds to fall and gets stuck in the snow. I attempt to come to his rescue to help him up but get stuck and fall as well. I almost slip off the side of the path. Mary is stuck in the snow. We're all laughing laughing so hard that we're almost soiling ourselves and some people begin to say some colorful words. If there was a camera on us, that clip would be the most popular thing on the internet. Our friends, who left us probably thirty minutes prior, decide to come look for us because we've taken way too long. They find us. They laugh at us. I fall again. We finally get down probably twenty minutes later. What should have been a ten minute trip turned into an almost hour long adventure. 
I am essentially the Luis Mendoza of skiing. I didn't (and still don't) know how to stop. No one taught me. I thought it would come naturally. That's not really the case. Oh, and somewhere in all of my falling, I got a concussion. Yep, my head had been hurting the past couple of days so I went to the doctors and they administered a test which essentially told me, "Girl- you be concussed." It's not super serious, unless I still have pain in a couple days. If that's the case, ciao. It's been nice knowing you. See you on the other side, brother. 
All in all, it was a great memory and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Even getting stuck in the snow, in the dark, where I'm pretty sure we narrowly escaped being eaten to death by mountain creatures. I'd just wear a helmet this time. 

what's the word?

I've seen a couple posts floating around about people picking words to be a theme for their year. I was particularly inspired by this post by Erin. I began to think what sort of word or phrase I would want, but kept coming back to other ones that I had already seen people choose for themselves. I didn't want to be a copycat (that's still a term I use regularly) so I kept thinking, trying to find something that I felt like I was being called to.
I wanted a pretty word, something exciting, something that actually could capture what I wanted for 2014. I wanted something that would be pretty to blog about, something that would seem glamorous. I'm so flawed, my friends. I wanted to impress you, and that what was shaping my word search. 
The word that was pressed upon my heart after genuine thought and prayer was not a word that I had considered, but the more I think about it, it is exactly what the Lord is calling me to and what needs to shape my 2014:
Obedience. 
Oh my. I am such a silly creature. I wanted something impressive and pretty but what God gave me was the opposite of what my heart wanted, yet somehow exactly what I need. I need (and what I know my soul craves) is obedience... obedience to my Creator. 
Pastor Chris Brown says, "Obedience is the highest form of worship" and I agree with him wholeheartedly. When I am being obedient to what God is calling me to do, that is when I am worshipping Him most and honoring Him. When I decide to do what I want, regardless of the consequences, I am disobeying. Luckily, my God has an infinite supply of grace. Thank goodness because if there were any sort of cap on grace for the world, it would be all used on me because I am so flawed. 
This year I am going to be obedient, to go where God calls me, and do what I know He is asking of me. I know that I will fail many times, but hopefully I get there in the end. 
Did you pick a word or theme for the year?

take another little piece of my heart now baby

I've been thinking about the whole concept of guarding my heart lately. Our hearts are such tender things, they are so sweet and delicate. They are capable of loving in a way that seems infinite but pales in comparison to the way that our Lord loves us.  I have younger sisters that are like babies to me. I was nine when they were born. There's always been a bond between myself and them that's been equal parts sister and momma bear. They've also sort of developed into my 'test.' I sometimes gauge the things I think, say, and do of whether or not I would want them to mirror my behaviors. If the answer is no, I try my darndest to cease what I'm doing. My biggest prayer for those girls is that their heart would never know brokenness or bitterness, that their hearts would always be as beautiful and full as they are now. 
In this world, there are so many entities that will try to take little pieces of your heart under the guise of being harmless. There are boys who will woo you and say beautiful words that will make you feel special. They can sometimes ask you to do things you aren't comfortable with, but you'll want to do it because they want to. You'll want to keep those beautiful words flowing so you'll say yes. Then, after a little bit of time, your heart will begin to hurt. You'll realize that you gave a piece of your heart to someone who didn't want (or deserve) the entire thing. 
There are things that you can do that you know you shouldn't- things that you wouldn't do if your momma was around and surely wouldn't want your little sisters to know about. They are the things you spend endless amounts of time justifying because you are desperately trying to convince yourself that it's okay. Those things you do in hiding, those things take pieces of your heart too. 
There are people you surround yourself with, people who don't make you want to be a better person. They are people who don't emulate the fruits of the spirit and don't care if you do either. The people you surround yourself with have this funny way of rubbing off on you. You begin to say their words, take their tone, and act like them. This is a wonderful thing if you surround yourself with good people, but this is a dangerous thing when you surround yourself with people with a lackluster character. When you cheapen yourself into not being who you were created to be, you give little pieces of your heart to the people that you allow to be an influence upon yourself. 
My heart hasn't been completely whole lately. I've done things I'm not proud of and given my heart to things & people who are undeserving. The goodness of God's grace is that it's never too late. It's never too late to reclaim your heart, to stand for more, and to be whole in Him. 
In this new year, I resolve to be more careful with my heart. To not give it so freely, to let it love and be loved, but to guard it, and not in a way that shields it from the natural parts of life, but in a way that empowers me to live in the way I should. 

the first semester: a recap

At noon today, I finished my first semester as the resident director of the freshmen girls dorm. There are a lot of things that surprised me about the past four months. Some things were good surprises, some things were hard surprises. But, as I look back over these past couple of months, I am overwhelmed with how good they were. The good always outweighed the bad. Even in moments of defeat, there was always someone who offered an encouraging word without knowing how important those words were in that moment. One of the more difficult lessons that I've learned is how to successfully be a boss. There are seven very different young ladies on my staff and each one of them have different strengths and different weaknesses. This means that my approach with each one is unique. It can't be the same because they aren't all the same. Unfortunately, I've learned that the hard way a couple of times. In addition to learning how to effectively guide different personalities has been learning how to toe the balance between boss and friend. When you live and work in the same environment, lines are blurred. Girls are in my home, I am in their home, we experience life together and that makes our bond very close. At the end of the day, I am in charge of them and have to remember that I'm not their friend. We get to be friendly, but I can't interact with them in the same way that I would interact with a friend.  Some of the best moments have been the unexpected moments: the times where you're up till two am just laughing about life, sharing stories about boys, and seeing everyone's distinct and fun personalities. I look at this group of girls that live in this dorm and I'm just blown away. They are so funny, talented, caring, and creative. They are just incredible. My RA's? I could go on forever. They are the biggest blessings. I didn't choose them but God surely provided the loveliest group of girls to help me through this year. I took them out to brunch on Sunday and told them that I never expected to fall in love with them. I knew I would like them and knew that we would have fun together, but I really do love them.  What have I learned about myself this semester? I've learned that I need to be gracious with myself. It's okay to need do-overs. It's okay to need second chances. It's okay to fail. I need grace on a daily basis, and that's okay. I've also learned that I have to take time for myself. I need to get a good night of sleep. I need to take hot baths filled with epsom salts and listen to relaxing music. I need to sometime lock the door to my apartment and spend quality time with Netflix. I really value time spent alone and I've realized that if I am not giving myself an adequate amount of time alone that I can't effectively care for the girls. I can't pour into them when I'm empty.  The first thing I did after the girls all checked out was ate a delicious lunch and took a two hour nap. It was the perfect way to start off this break. Next week, I head home for a wonderful twelve day break. I'm excited for warmth, sunshine, and sister time.