Lemon Blueberry Muffins

I’m not sure if you’ve ever heard of it, but a few years back there was a movie called “War Room.” Aptly named yet somewhat deceiving, it’s not, in fact, about war as we traditionally think. There are no four star generals nor weapons of mass destruction. Nope. It’s about spiritual warfare. It’s a good one, and if you’ve never seen it I highly recommend. 

In it, the war room is an actual closet. With clothes, shoes, old hats, and probably some moth balls. It’s use, functional, nondescript and ordinary until is turned into a full-on spiritual ground zero where war is waged against the forces in this life designed to steal, kill and destroy. It is functional, still, but more than that it’s spiritual and filled more with prayer than with clothes. 

And because I strive to emulate my own life after movies at all times I, too, have a war room. Only mine is far less effective when it comes to spiritual warfare. Or warfare of any type really. Mine is more of a “mental and emotional breakdown room” as it definitely sees more screaming, crying and hysterical hiccup-inducing sobs than rational and prayer-filled devil fighting. 

And this “mental and emotional breakdown room” is exactly where I found myself last week having a good old fashioned mental and emotional breakdown–down on my knees, face buried in an old sweatshirt, hiccup sobbing in the dark while my dog licked my face breakdown. And right now, as I type these words out, I still really have no idea why.

But let me backtrack….

If you had asked me at that moment why I was crying, first I would have wiped my nose and tried to catch my breath and then second, I would have said it was because I was drowning. And a big fat failure. And a loser. Who also had a pimple. 

I would tell you that there wasn’t one major catastrophic event that catapulted me there. There wasn’t a huge failure or giant embarrassment. I didn’t mess up or make a major mistake. I wasn’t really failing at anything other than sanity. But I sure felt like I was.

Looking back over the past month with the powers of 20/20 retrospection, I can see very clearly how I was laying the path to my own war room incident. It wasn’t one big thing, but rather a bunch of little things that lined themselves up and washed over me, chipping away at my faith, my hope and my heart one tiny wave at a time. I was drowning alright, and I needed to call in an audible and make a change.

The war room floor made that very clear.

Over the past two years, I worked very hard to create the life I want to live. I examined what was working and what wasn’t (which was honestly most of it) and prioritized and re-prioritized, working hard to create space for what really mattered. I’ve said NO to all of the busyness and expectations and obligations and YES to family, to God, to work, and to creativity. I’ve read lots of books, written lots of stories, and spent so much time getting to know myself without all of the noise and distractions that I have been able to refine the rough and pointy parts that needed work. Honestly, it’s been an amazing two years of growth, change, and, yes, even some pain.

So I’ve become really, really protective of my time and my peace. It has become necessary for my sanity to protect my space fiercely. Except that somehow over the past few weeks I have let it all go and said yes to, well, everything. Mostly because I had to.

Lately life has been a crazy season of doctor’s appointments and school meetings. Stress over the future and worries about the present. It’s been baseball games and football practices and the ever-present drone of gymnastics, gymnastics and more gymnastics. It’s been a time of tremendous growth for BurntToast and phenomenal exciting things for Grit and Grace. Beautycounter exploded too, and with it comes time commitments and to-dos lists. It’s parenting and working and momming and living life, just a lot of it.

And each day has begun to feel more and more like a game of survivor in which I was grossly outwitted, outmatched and outplayed by my own calendar. 

Without the space to breathe and the protection of my hard-fought boundaries I began to see my sense of peace and joy erode. I would consciously think things like “Oh, I can go to the bathroom while my coffee brews because I won’t have time after that,” OR “I will dust and vacuum the entire house in the 30 minutes I have between carpools.” 

Y’all, I was scheduling bathroom breaks and siphoning away those precious after-school homework and snack minutes because I didn’t have the time to handle my business.  Which probably means I had too much business to begin with, right?

Clearly I had lost my mind. Thus the war room.

I wish I could say that I had some epiphany sitting there in the dark on the closet floor. But I didn’t. I wish I could say I somehow figured it all out and paired down my schedule and have mastered the art of zen and the work at home mom in there. I haven’t.

What I did do was, actually, twenty times harder for me. I asked for help. Apparently my closet is not soundproof so when my husband followed the wailing and found me on the floor in a puddle of my own tears, I swallowed my pride and said the only words that could fix the moment.

“I need help.”

These three words are so hard for me. But, in the end, they’re the only ones that work. Because, God love my husband, he helped. He offered to step in and take over. He offered a cleaning service (can I get an AMEN on this one, please). And he helped. Despite my deepest darkest fear, he didn’t look at me with disdain and accuse me of being weak. He didn’t think I was crazy (well, maybe a little) and he didn’t call me incompetent. He helped. 

Life is filled with rough waters and sometimes we all need a life preserver to stay afloat. Love means throwing one out and holding on tight until the waters are calm again. And that’s ok. 

The other way I got better, by the way, is by adjusting my expectations. Take these muffins, for example. I created them specifically because I expect to take something new and homemade to every single potluck I attend. Store-bought won’t do, of course, because of who I am and what I do (read about this here). So I made these. In the two hours I had between pick up and baseball practice I created, baked, styled, and photographed them (with a lot of cursing and stress because it was just two hours).

But then my baby and her friend were staring at me with these huge adorable puppy dog eyes begging. And my expectation is no match for those girls. So I fed them and then proudly took Chick Fil A chicken minis to the potluck. And guess what? No one even noticed.

Lemon Blueberry Muffins

Quite possibly the perfect blueberry muffin, these lemon blueberry muffins are light and filled with bursting wild blueberry flavor and sweetness. They balance sweet and tangy and the tart bite of lemony sugar on the top is the figurative icing on the cake (or muffin). Make these for your next brunch. Make them for your kids. Make them for a potluck. Just make them.

They make spring just a little bit springier. I promise. 

Peace, love and closets,

Meg

The Perfect Blueberry Muffin

January 8, 2020

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By: Meaghan Dawson

Ingredients

• 2 1/2 cups flour
• 1 tablespoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 cup sugar
• 1 1/2 teaspoon lemon zest (divided)
• 1/2 cup coconut oil, melted then slightly cooled
• 1 tablespoon vanilla
• 2 eggs
• 1 cup soured milk (1 cup milk plus 1 tablespoon vinegar, rest for 10 minutes)
• 1 1/2 cup frozen blueberries (preferably wild)
• 1 tablespoon flour
• 1 teaspoon sugar

Directions

• Step 1 Preheat oven to 425 and line muffin tin with liners.
• Step 2 In a large bowl, mix together flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
• Step 3 In a bowl, combine sugar and 1 teaspoon lemon zest. Using your hands, run the zest into the sugar.
• Step 4 Add eggs (tempered with oil if still hot) and oil. Mix well.
• Step 5 Add milk and vanilla and mix again.
• Step 6 With a rubber spatula, stir wet ingredients into dry just until incorporated.
• Step 7 In a separate bowl, combine flour and blueberries, tossing until coated. Add to the batter and gently stir to combine.
• Step 8 Pour into muffin cups until 3/4 full.
• Step 9 Combine sugar and remaining lemon zest, using hands to combine. Sprinkle on muffin tops.
• Step 10 Bake at 425 for 5 minutes, turn oven down to 375 and bake for 15 minutes more or until baked through.

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