A Joyful Army of Six

We are Brian and Cara Bergeron. We currently live, homeschool, work, and play soccer in beautiful Southcentral Oregon. We are children of God, children of two marvelous sets of parents who are still happily married, children of the '80s, children who fell in love when we were but children, children who have inherited four unexpected and undeserved blessings from the Lord--Brandt, Gresham, Seth, and Evangeline. Together we are (as Eva will tell you with a shout) "in the Lord's army. Lethirrrr!"

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Halibut Poached in Coconut, Ginger & Basil Broth

This one's for you Christina! And for you too Mom! Catch us some fish this summer, okay?

Serves 6
From Fine Cooking, June/July 2006

6 pieces filleted halibut, 1-1 1/2 pounds total, sliced no more than 1/2" in the thickest part
kosher salt
ground pepper
1 Tablespoon grated fresh ginger
1 cup roughly chopped sweet or Thai basil
1 Tablespoon olive oil
1 large shallot, thinly sliced (about 1/4 cup)
1 2-inch pieces fresh ginger, julienned
2 cloves minced garlic
2 ribs celery, sliced 1/8" thick on the diagonal
1 small fresh hot chile, sliced into thin rings (seed intact)
1 cup chicken broth
5 1/2 oz. can coconut milk (I prefer the brand Mae Ploy)
4 scallions, thinly sliced on the diagonal
2 Tablespoons fish sauce, or more to taste (I prefer Tiparos)
2 Tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 Tablespoon mirin (Japanese sweet rice wine) or maple syrup
1 teaspoon finely grated lime zest
2 cups jasmine rice, cooked

Spread the fillets on a work surface, skin side down. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Divide the ginger among the fillets and spread as evenly as you can. Sprinkle about 1 Tablespoon of the basil over the fillets. Roll each fillet, starting at the thicker end. Secure each roll with a toothpick (or green scallion tops make very pretty twine as well). Sprinkle the rolls lightly with a little more salt and pepper. In a small Dutch oven with a tight-fitting lid, heat the oil over high heat until it shimmers. Add the shallot, ginger julienne and garlic. Saute for 1 minute, stairring constantly. Add the celery and saute for 30 seconds. Add the chile and continue to saute, stirring, until the celery starts to soften, about 2 minutes. Add the chicken broth and heat for 2 minutes. Turn off the heat and arrange the rolled fish in a single layer over the celery mixture. Pour the coconut milk over the fish and turn the heat to high. As soon as the coconut milk comes to a simmer, reduce the heat to medium low and cover. Simmer until the fish is opaque and cooked through, 8-10 minutes. If you're unsure, flake apart a bit of the center to see if it's done.

Meanwhile, transfer cooked rice to a serving platter. Remove the fish pot from the heat and transfer fillets to the serving platter on top of the rice. Return the pot with the broth to high heat. Add the remaining basil, scallions, fish sauce, lime juice, mirin, and lime zest. Bring the broth just to a simmer and then taste. Add more salt, mirin or fish sauce as needed. Pour the broth over the fillets & rice.

Monday, March 05, 2007

Thankful for . . . SNOW!



Brian was leaving on Friday, so, of course, on Thursday morning I woke up so sick with the flu that I literally could not walk. I spent the entire day on the couch in my PJs. The kids brought the school books to me and read most of their work out loud. I sort of gestured to them and tried to stay awake. The next day I was quite a bit better but still in my PJs. Brian had left early that morning.

Saturday morning found us running a few critical errands because, with snow in the forecast we wanted to be prepared. Well, we wanted snow and it was SNOW we got. Not a typical Oregon come-and-go snow; this was a stay-on-your-street-and-shovel-your-drive snow. There were a few power outages that had my mother's heart overly concerned. And it lasted for nearly two weeks! In other words, Brian went on his TDY for nine days, diverted to Portland in bad weather, found a very brief hole in the weather on Sunday morning, landed with a shovel in his hand and started to use it. Both he and I shoveled snow in some capacity every single day for over a week. There was, on some days, up to 18 inches of snow in our house under construction.


Providentially, I had just been listening to Focus on the Family's Radio Theatre, The Hiding Place, with the kids. Although I've thoroughly enjoyed nearly every one of Focus's Radio Theatres, this is by far and away my favorite although I've literally cried my way through the entire thing. In this true story, one of the "scenes" involves Corrie and her sister, Betsie, huddling together on a tiny bed in Ravensbruck Concentration Camp. They are trying to recall the scripture that they've learned from that morning. They remember it and recite it there in the frozen bunker: I Thessalonians 5:15-22 "See that no one renders evil for evil to anyone, but always pursue what is good both for yourselves and for all. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise prophecies. Test all things; hold fast what is good. Abstain from every form of evil."

Corrie wants to go to sleep but Betsie insists that they give thanks for every aspect of their circumstances. They begin to pray and to thank God for the Bible they were able to smuggle into the bunker and for the other women in the bunker with them. And then Corrie feels something biting her. It's a flea and, as another prisoner informs them, the bunkers are crawing with them. Betsie insists that they give thanks for the fleas but Corrie balks. She will not give thanks for such a disgusting creature; but Betsie, in her gentle way, insists that they do so. God's word, after all, says "in everything give thanks." Corrie gives in, they thank God for the fleas, and then go to sleep.

In German concentration camps, all meetings are forbidden, a fact that Corrie and Betsie and their friend Mene remember with pain. In their former camp, Mene was subjected to fierce torture for two weeks, the price she paid for participating in a bible study. But in Ravensbruck, their bible studies are never discovered. The guards never even come near their bunker. When Corrie finally wonders aloud at this miracle, she is set straight by one of her friends: "Of course they won't come near these bunkers. They're infested with lice and FLEAS!"

"In everything, give thanks." If Corrie and Betsie could be thankful for fleas, then we can certainly be thankful for snow--even days and days and inches and inches of it. I'm not sure about you, but I'll take snow over fleas any day of the week! And who knows what great thing God may have in mind?

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Evangeline--Little Butterfly


Evangeline Noel Bergeron is now 2 1/2 years old and nearly every day has seemed a miracle. First, our little footling breach, born caesarean section on her due date was just so DIFFERENT from our three boys that we could not fathom she belonged to the Bergerons. Then beginning at four months of age, she began to lose weight. First she fussed while nursing. Then, by 7 months of age, she wouldn't nurse at all. Nor would she take a bottle. And every bit of solid food that we tried elicited an agonizing series of allergic reactions.

The appointments with doctors and myriad blood tests began. The first diagnosis: "failure to thrive" as though that answered our unspoken questions and our worst fears. Brian and I and those around us searched each others' eyes for answers, no one daring to say what we were all thinking: She was growing thinner. The first blood tests came back revealing abnormal liver and thyroid functions. Subsequent tests only confirmed what we could now see--jaundice brought about from a failing liver. We tried all of the formulas and all of the tricks of geting them into her emaciated body but to no avail. She began to reject all foods, either vomiting them up or her body issuing violent complaints through rashes and diarrhea. We began to beg and plead with the Lord, to bargain with the Lord, issuing ultimatums we could not hope to keep.

After a few weeks of frustration and desperation, a friend mentioned to me that I ought to keep a food diary of the foods I was eating. I registered the typical reaction that most people do when they hear the "food diary" phrase: "What good will it do? She doesn't nurse except in the morning anyway. Her reactions are so different and so unexpected that I'm sure it won't help. Even if I discovered the foods to which she is allergic, she won't eat anything anyway..." But, like most people who eventually subject themselves to the food diary, I was so desperate that we tried it. Lo and behold I learned a LOT in one week. Not only dairy products but wheat and pineapple and soy and sugar were all wreaking havoc on her defenseless system. We had something to share with the pediatric gastroenterologist--if only he'd believe us! Lo and behold, by the grace of God, he did; and then he referred us to the pediatric allergist. After a few trips to the allergist and a few discussions with him, we had both me and Evangeline off of all products containing even traces and derivatives of dairy, wheat, sugar, and soy. It was an exhausting task requiring better eyesight than any normal person possesses (have you tried to read 25 tiny labels in a grocery store with four small children in your cart?) but one in which I was bolstered and strengthened by my good friend Shonda who was going through something similar with her daughter Leah, born 2 weeks after Evangeline!

A few more months passed and Evangeline began to get healthy again. Her color came back to peaches and cream instead of nuke yellow. She gained weight, first in ounces and then in pounds. She was still developmentally delayed but she actually began to do something besides sleep. She was curious about her environment and finally played sweet little games with us. She began to laugh. And we all laughed with her for pure joy.

On her first birthday, I remember thanking the Lord for his perfect act of deliverance. We did not deserve to have this beautiful daughter who was actually growing. She belonged to the Lord. He had kept her perfectly even when our faith had faltered.

Three days later, as though to test our hope, we checked into the Panama City hospital with a listless baby who would not stop vomiting. Within a few hours, her little body was swelling up with fluid and nurses were running everywhere. The doctor appeared back in our room, though she'd only just left. They were planning to do a CAT scan and a kidney scan and then they would be taking us by emergency transport to Pensacola, to the children's hospital. Our new enemy was a word called "Acidotic," an alkalinity of the blood sometimes brought about by failure of the kidneys. As I continued to recite the litany of her allergies to every professional who entered the room, we all grasped at straws for answers and Brian and I prayed and begged the Lord to save her unresponsive body.

About an hour later, shortly before her CAT scan, she vomited suddenly in my lap. The nurse with us at the time looked at the mess and said "What in the WORLD did she eat? That looks like poison!" To make this long story less long, suffice it to say that it wasn't poison from a cupboard. It was poison (e.coli) from the hurricane-damaged beaches of Panama City, as we were to find out later upon visiting the nephrologist. Crisis averted by a strategic (thank you Jesus) bout of vomiting...

We brought Evangeline home and nursed her back to vitality and health, only to take her once more to the hospital in Panama City, severely dehydrated by vomiting. This time it was "just" a virus but her condition was further complicated by allergic reactions to the intravenous antibiotics and oral medications they gave her. The hospital stays were getting shorter and we had reason to be thankful; but my Mommy Tolerance was getting thinner. Every sound she made at home had me jumping with fright and beset by doubts about my competence as a mother. She continued to have bouts of vomiting that seriously depleted her system and the weight that we'd so painstakingly helped her to gain. When, O Lord, would this trial be over?

As we left Florida for Oregon, we were certain that a healthy dose of Western air was what she needed. She was vomiting when we left Florida but seemed to be fine upon our arrival in Louisiana. A week in Cajun country seemed to do her little French Canadian body some good; but by the time we'd seen the Grand Canyon she was vomiting again. Brian took her to the hospital in Phoenix to get her enough fluids so that we could make it to Hemet, our hometown; but by day three of our stay in Hemet it was apparent to everyone that she would have to be admitted again. After ten days of fighting this monster virus, she finally rallied back to health, leaving us wondering if she'd had a run-in with a viral type of meningitis (we never had a spinal tap performed on her).

In the ten months and one birthday that have passed since her last hospitalization, Evangeline has spent her time growing and making up for much lost time. Friends and family often ask the question, "Is she well?" The fact is that we really cannot know what God has done in her body or what He has planned for her future. We can say one thing with grins from ear to ear, "She is getting VERY chubby!"

Although most people who observe her see her as very reserved, she doesn't know the meaning of the word around her brothers. She is showing a little girl's penchant to take charge and to (gulp!) shriek quite readily at the first sign of danger or resistance. She is beginning to make connections, often to hilarious effect. Last night I pointed out the rainbow in the picture of Noah and the ark and said to her "Evangeline, why did God put the rainbow in the sky?" She said, with characteristic certainty, "Because He wanted to play with it."

She loves all creatures "baby" whether stuffed or real. Currently her obsession is with the photos of her newest baby cousin Abigail (on my side); but while we were home for Christmas, it was all talk of Baby Sophia, her brand new cousin on her daddy's side.

Two nights ago, we were cleaning up the wooden pizza and I said to her "Eva, please go get the rest of the pieces." She responded "No, Mommy, I can't because they lost." I countered, "Eva, where did you have them last?" She responded, "Mommy, they lost in da livin room." I tried again, "Evangeline please go look for them in the living room." Her response? "Mommy, no fwuitless ahguments, okay?"

How we do praise God for the very breathing of Evangeline's precious body and for her active mind. We do not deserve to have her here and yet here she is, saying "Where my seconds?" at the dinner table, asking for "Jesus Loves Me" when we tuck her into bed, and begging us to pray with her. She is our priceless reminder that the mercies of the Lord are even for undeserving sinners such as us.

And one "sideways benefit": You will never call the process of building a house "stressful" if you've first experienced a near-miss with one of your children!

Misunderstanding Jeremiah

Jeremiah 7:4-7
"Do not trust in these lying words, saying, 'The temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord are these.' For if you thoroughly amend your ways and your doings, if you thoroughly execute judgment between a man and his neighbor, if you do not oppress the stranger, the fatherless, and the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place, or walk after other gods to your hurt, then I will cause you to dwell in this place in the land that I gave to your fathers forever and ever."

The above passage was from this morning's bible reading. In order to discern if the kids were understanding, I asked this question: "What did the tribe of Judah THINK was pleasing to the Lord?" Brandt answered "the things in the temple." Then I probed further: "What was God saying was TRULY pleasing to Him?" Gresham raised his hand frantically and then out came the answer: "Executing your neighbor!"

What can a mom do but burst out laughing?