I absolutely adore black beans. They are, without a doubt, my favorite bean. They're wonderful as taco filling, with sweet potatoes in burritos, in salsa, and all by themselves. For lunch today, I'm having them with rice. I decided to experiment with the spices, by adding onion soup mix and taco seasoning. Let me tell you...they are AMAZING!

Rice Bowl Black Beans #2

2 cans black beans, drained and rinsed well
1 packet onion soup mix
2 tbs. taco seasoning (or more to taste)
1-1 1/2 cups water (eyeball it)

Throw it all in a pot, and let it simmer for about 25 mins. Notes: I added a few splashes of milk for creaminess.

I also have a new way I make rice. In trying to eat healthier and heartier, I've been mixing different grains whenever I prepare rice. The ratios can be adjusted to your specific tastes, often times I use more wheat and less white rice. The bulgar really adds a good bit of fiber and lends a slightly nutty taste.

Rice mix:

1/2 cup white rice
1 cup brown rice
1/2 cup bulgar wheat
1 tbs margarine or butter
4 1/4 cups water

Boil the water. Add margarine (or olive oil). Add rice/grain. Turn the heat to low and cook until all the water has been absorbed (about 20-25 minutes).

Happy eating!

quick thoughts on marriage

The other night, I was sitting and talking to some of the ladies from the shelter. Each was sharing their story, and talking about the different men who'd hurt them at some point in their life. After about an hour, they shuffled off to bed. One came back at about midnight, wanting to chat some more. She began telling me about all the things that went wrong in her marriage. She said her husband called her a bad parent, and in the same breath that she cared too much about the kids. As she was telling me this, she said, "My life is and always will be about my kids," then to my horror, she continued with "if given the choice between him (her husband) and my kids, of course I'm going to chose my kids. He couldn't handle that."

Ladies, respect your husband. He should never be made to feel as if he's disposable!! It doesn't matter if he's not a great leader, if he leaves the clothes on top of the hamper rather than IN the hamper, if he seems unmotivated. Wives are commanded to respect their head! "Nevertheless, each individual among you also is to love his own wife even as himself, and the wife must see to it that she respects her husband. (Eph 5:33)" Regarding hubby vs babies, your husband is to come out on top. He was there first, your marriage existed before your children. The way I see it, it's like trying to save the shingles on a house that's burning.

Dip

So...in the theme of my previous post, here's another recently inspired recipe.

What you need:

8 oz cream cheese, softened
1/4-1/2 cup picante sauce (maybe more)
1/2 -3/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese (maybe more)
taco seasoning

What you do:

Mix all of the above together to your taste. I prefer leaving it thick enough to be a spread for crackers rather than a real dip. Best when served with crackers (saltine or otherwise...no real need to get fancy, though...desperate times call for desperate measures), or tortilla chips.

This is definitely a comfort food. Rich, creamy and cheesy...what more could a person want?

If the cravings are bad now...

So maybe I shouldn't have free time on my hands. This is especially true during certain times of the month, I'm just sayin'. Anywho, I've discovered a tasty little snack that is not lacking fat, I'm sure.

What you need:

Peanut butter (the natural, organic stuff...the only ingredient should be peanuts)
Coconut flakes (sweetened, unsweetened, fresh or in a bag...doesn't matter)
Graham crackers, ground/crumbled
A spoon

What you do:

Mix the coconut and crackers together in a bag or bowl. Get some PB on your spoon. (Please tell me you see where I'm going with this) Dip or roll the PB covered spoon in the coconut/cracker mix. Enjoy. Repeat as needed...which, if you're anything like me, could be 10 times...or until your PB is gone.

For extra yumminess you can use chocolate covered graham crackers or crush up some chocolate chips with your crackers.

Love shouldn't hurt, love shouldn't scar

Not for the first time, I was pulled from the depths of slumber by the sound of a woman crying. At first I thought perhaps I'd misheard, so I merely turned over and reunited with my pillow. As is usually the case, however, the crying and screaming was not to be ignored. After hearing it again, I got up and peered out my window to see what I could see. There was nothing amiss in the parking lot, and it was difficult to pinpoint where exactly the sounds were coming from. I then went to my living room, and looked out the window there. Again, nothing. As I stood scratching my head, and figuring out my plan of action, I heard a man's voice telling the woman to "Shut the !@#$ up!" More crying and screaming followed.

As I said at the beginning of this post, this isn't the first time I've dealt with this situation. This isn't even the first time I've dealt with it at this apartment complex. At a former residence, I dealt with it on an almost weekly basis. My neighbors fought all the time, and it was not uncommon to hear the female in the courtyard screaming for her bf to come back and to hear him respond "Get back in the apartment before I do something you'll regret." At some point after he drove off, I'd try to talk to the girl...help her think about her options. It was like repeatedly running into a brick wall. After a little less than a year, the couple moved. Maybe it had something to do with the frequency of the cops knocking on their door, or maybe the shame of everyone knowing about their business was too much to handle. Who knows. I pray that both are alive and well.

Back to this morning. I decided the best course of action would be to attempt to pinpoint where exactly the abuse was taking place. I got dressed, and went outside. All was clear. I pretended I was walking to my car, and as I rounded a corner, I immediately heard the sounds of arguing. To make sure I had the right apartment, I rounded another corner to get to the parking lot to where my car was actually parked. As it turns out, my car was parked mere feet from their bedroom window. I confirmed the sounds of arguing and screaming, then quickly went back to my apartment and called the cops. After giving the appropriate information, I stood by my bedroom window, watching and waiting. I then witnessed the girl emerge from her building, crying a little. She hopped in her car and was off. Seriously, 1-2 minutes later, she came back with a man in her car. They parked, and I guess they went into her apartment. I'm not exactly sure what happened here...who this man was...or anything. I made another trip to my "car", and on the way back to my apartment, I passed the girl and this guy. Both were smiling and talking...they even smiled at me. I know some of you are like me, and are wondering "where were the police?". Good question. WHERE were THE POLICE? To my knowledge, they did not show up.

I'm up now...so much for sleeping in. I'm trying to figure out how to reach out to this girl, for this actually is not the first time I've been woken up by DV against her. The last time was a few months ago, and a bit more severe. As someone who works for an abuse center, I feel it is my duty to talk to her. As a Christian, I know I must reach out to this hurting woman. I must extend to love and mercy of my Savior. not just to figure out the logistics...

Gravy

Working overnight has it's perks. As it turns out, I actually enjoy being up early in the morning...though it tends to sour the rest of my day by making it seem unbearably long. One of my favorite things to do is shop, especially for groceries before 7 am. This morning, I decided I would have butternut squash soup and some sort of cabbage side. For breakfast I wanted biscuits with sausage gravy. I really haven't tried to make this, my favorite breakfast meal, so I figured it was time. I collected a few other random things at the store...this always happens when I shop.

Anywho, I got home, and immediately started on making the biscuits. I love having shortening in the house, because I feel like it opens countless culinary doors. Same thing with butter and bacon. Do you see a fatty trend here? :) My original plan was to just "eyeball" the ingredients for the biscuits. They really aren't complicated, so it wouldn't be hard to do. I'm not a big measurer, I cook using my senses...mainly sight and taste. As I was getting ready to dump some flour in a bowl, I noticed the biscuit recipe on the back of the can of baking powder, and decided to use it. I don't have as much experience as I'd like with making biscuits, so it's was smart to at least have a recipe to reference. It was quick and easy, and the biscuits were in the oven, baking up to buttery goodness within 5 minutes!

Now for the gravy. I heart gravy. I've had all kinds of gravy, from onion gravy (a staple of my childhood), to red eye gravy. Gravy makes me happy. My favorite is pork sausage gravy. I squeezed some pork sausage into a pot and browned it. The next step was where I experienced uncertainty. I still get a bit unsure about whether to use flour or cornstarch to thicken the gravy. Normally, I go for the starch, but I've noticed it doesn't always lend the best tasting product. I'm not saying it makes foods disgusting, but it does lend a little something...extra that people could do without if there was an alternative. So what did I use?

This was the morning of flour power! I added a few tablespoons of the stuff to the browned sausage, coating it well. I've realized adding fat to your thickener, rather than mixing the thickener to cold water yields a smoother, richer sauce. After I felt enough flour had been added, I poured in the heavy cream and milk. By the time it cooked up, the biscuits were done. The gravy took only a couple of minutes to thicken. Everything was FABULOUS! In case you were questioning it...yes, I did just spend a whole post talking about biscuits and gravy.

Those of you that know me, or have at least checked out my blog a few times know that I very deeply desire marriage and children (lots of babies). I make no apology for this, because this desire is not ungodly. No, it is a very appropriate and beautiful thing. In a time when families are crumbling and children are subject to so much abuse and neglect; the actual longing to be a godly wife and nurturing mother is a wonderful thing. That said, I must also face the fact that God may not intend for me to ever marry or bear children. Granted, I'm fairly young (though not as young as I'd like for the childbearing part), so there's time for all that great and wonderful stuff later, but God is by no means obligated to give me a hubby and babies just because I want them (fiercely).

This may sound strange, but I actually get excited when I meet older single Christian women. My heart beats a touch faster, and I can't wait to engage in a good conversation with them. The reason for this intense reaction is simple...kind of primitive, actually. It does my heart well to know that you can survive singleness as a Christian woman. Perhaps you feel I'm making a mountain out of a molehill here, but it deeply encourages me to see the way God has worked in these women's lives. To listen to them tell stories of their Beloved's faithfulness and loving kindness to them throughout their lives. To hear how they deal/dealt with being told "No" to something they wanted so much. I'm not saying being single is so terrible, and gosh-darn awful that death is a far better alternative. NAY! I'm just saying it (life) can be hard...no matter how good your friends are, there's still something completely different about actually becoming one with somebody and going through life together.

Thankfully, I've met very few bitter, old, Christian, single women. When I do, I usually begin immediately praying internally. Praying that this women would release the bitterness eating away at her. Praying that she and I would both know in our souls that God is enough, period. Finally, I pray that the day never dawns where I'm that bitter. Depending on what they're saying, it sounds like one man after another has somehow failed them, and they kind of think God...the true Beloved...has failed them as well. Men have not come through from them, and the Creator of the men has not come through for them. Their words and their actions tell me "God is not enough." Bitterness is a very vile emotion, it's infectious and toxic. It is not to be named among the characteristics of a godly woman.

"(30)And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. (31) Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. (32) Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you" Eph. 4: 30-32.

" (14) Strive for peace with everyone, and for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord. (15) See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no 'root of bitterness' springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled" Hebrews 12: 14-15

So in an effort to hone some of my domestic skills, I'll be focusing more on cooking (as if I don't do that enough, already!), and sewing. Admittedly, I dropped the needle a year or so ago, and I have yet to make any clothing for myself, so this will be a fun project. For the cooking, I'm really looking into baking breads and other grain oriented staples. My first sewing project will be to make a skirt. This particular project was born from my irritation with the lack of affordable skirts in stores. Not just skirts, but long, plain skirts. I've decided it will be much easier just to make my own skirt...exactly the way I want it. We'll see how that goes.

Financially, I'm really working on streamlining my budget and STICKING TO the budget. That's been a real struggle for me in the past, but God is really dealing with me in this (and so many other) areas.

Anywho, I've been in a book frenzy lately. Over the past couple of weeks, I've really added quite a few good works to my bookshelf. Interestingly enough, many of the books are bent towards marriage and being a godly woman. God is really making me long to grow in femininity and take on the characteristics of a woman after His own heart. Praise Him.

My current prayer is that I would learn to be more content with the life God has given me. That I would stop worrying myself silly about "what's next", and take care of the here and now. Also that I would learn how encourage my brothers and sisters in Christ with Truth and love.

"O, how He loves you and me! O, how He loves you and me! He gave His life, what more could He give? O, how He loves you! O, how He loves me! O, how He loves you and me!"

What's stopping us?

I'm an idealist. I dream of a world and a time much much different from my current surroundings. A time when men were men and women were women, and it was okay. A time when people didn't raise an eyebrow if a woman wore a skirt outside of church, children would never have thought to be disrespectful to an adult, and men actually adhered to a certain code of conduct that brooked no room for wimpiness. It's interesting to listen to people talk about those they consider idealists. There's the idea that those individuals need to "get with it" and "come back down to the real world". Well, at one point the world I'm talking about actually did exist. So maybe, we idealists don't need to "come back down", maybe everyone else needs to climb on up. Rather than be content and/or resigned to the way things are, how about we actually make a move towards change? I'm not talking BO change, no, I'm talking about something far deeper, more everlasting. People say our current reality is too corrupt and gruesome to ever allow for the world I dream of. In actuality, there was sin and sorrow in the world of which I dream. Plenty of it. It wasn't as shamelessly pasted on every corner and every screen, but it was there...going on behind closed (and sometimes locked) doors. The sinfulness of a society doesn't excuse it from still holding a certain standard. If anything that actually makes the case for why higher standards should be set and held on to. Giving in to the pressure and collapsing under the weight of fleshy, worldly whims and desires doesn't make you more sophisticated, nor does it make things better. Easier, maybe...but not better. Mind you, I'm at the top of the list for giving into the whims and desires of my flesh...rather than fleeing, I've run headlong into them. I'm still sorting things out on this topic, but for the time being, this is where I am. Perhaps I haven't arrived at any real, concrete point in this post...if that is the case, I'm okay with that.

Duh

I'm annoyed with myself right now. As some of you know, I had a terrible week last week, and it had everything to do with the fact that orginal sin is a real thing. Rather than inspiring me to pray for all of my babies (one of my friends says I have like 100 babies...which I'm totally fine with), I've just let myself turn inward and think..."I've got to work harder and just hope that things will get better." The Lord just totally slapped me all upside my head with this foolishness. "Beloved, change starts on your knees." Enough said.

Papa, can you hear me?

I love my church for many reasons, but one of the big ones has got to be the men. Now, before you get all fired up to preach at me about keeping myself focused on things above, let me explain. I love that the men in my church are real men. They lead their families with strength, humbleness, integrity, and an earnest fear of God. I feel like across the board in both secular and religious circles, fatherhood is making a comeback, Praise the Lord! Children desperately need daddies. In a day and age when young ladies are seeking affection (physical and emotional) from practically any and every man they come in contact with, never has the demand for strong male headship in families been more prevalent. I'm a huge fan of www.fatherhood.org, and their mission. Below is one of my favorite ads, it's absolutely precious. If you are a father (doesn't matter if your children are grown or still growing), I encourage you to check out this website, then take action! You have buckets of influence over your child's emotional, mental, and physical well being both now and in the future.

Come, Thou Fount of Every Blessing

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I'll begin;
Here I'll raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope by, Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus saught me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me,
Mortal tongue can never tell;
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Hear's my heart, O take it and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I'll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send Thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.


-words by: Robert Robinson, 1758

Mmm...pumpkin soup

I love this time of year. It's the time when everyone starts being a little nicer, the weather is toned down, and fall colors are starting to creep in (commercially, and naturally). This is also the time of year when pumpkins are once again lifted onto a pedestal, and everything from ale to ziti is pumpkin flavored. It's a beautiful thing. I've been busy with work, and spending time with dear friends.

I've had a few people ask me how I manage it all, and I just can't help but think, "You make time for things that matter to you....God didn't make a mistake in putting 24 hours in a day. That's plenty of time to do all the things HE wants you to do...but maybe not everything you want to do." I've got 4 jobs, and a decent social life. I'm happy, somewhat healthy, and most importantly, I haven't missed a meal. Anywho, I'm excited about coaching a little league basketball team for the next 6 weeks. As some of my long time readers will remember, I learned quite a bit from coaching the soccer team. Let's hope I can say the same of my basketball babies. Just get ready to laugh, I'm sure stories will be coming soon!

My progress towards transitioning from pants to skirts/dresses is going, but not as quickly as maybe I'd like sometimes. I have noticed that I'll immediately go look through skirts/dresses in the store rather than look through pants. I can't help but wonder sometimes why women who like to be fashionable even bother with pants. Honestly, there's only so much you can do with pants. Skirts/dresses, on the other hand, are almost limitless in their possibilities. From fabrics, to cuts to styles, they are just way more user friendly.

I have more to chit-chat about, but I'll just have to save that for another post. Until then, my dearies....God bless.

The doughboy's gonna get it.

Oh my goodness, I love this article so much, I could barely contain my glee while reading it. I'm sure many of you aren't too surprised this article makes me happy. I think more than just the divorce rate would decrease...this is also a health issue. How much healthier would our families be if momma took the time to COOK our food, not warm something up out of a can? I'm not saying every woman has to grind her own flour (though I'm wanting to head that way), I'm just saying making meals from scratch is a way to demonstrate love. Think about college students, military folks, and the like. What do they always say they miss/never get? Home cooked meals. I'm just sayin'.

Another link to the article, just in case you missed the other 4.

Beep, beep, BIFF!

Today I took one of my weekly treks around the bear trail on campus. For those of you who don't know, there is a 2.5-3 mile trail that goes around Baylor, where students and community members alike enjoy walking, jogging or biking. This trail is notorious for being a place where "Baylor girls" (stereotype) and "Baylor guys" (again...stereotype) go to show off their bodies by prancing about scantily clad, and occasionally oiled up.

Anywho, as I was walking, I passed blonde, tan, Baylor girl, after blonde, tan, Baylor girl. Trucks full of boys would drive by, slow down, stare, honk, and yell out things to the girls. Then came the most horrific thing of all....the girls actually smiled. Even after the trucks would pass by, these girls kept a little smile on their face as if they'd been paid a grand compliment, rather than a humiliating insult. As if those boys had really affirmed their worth and now they could die happy. Some girls even stopped and waved at the boys....SERIOUSLY!

My heart breaks for these women that feel like this is what it means to feel beautiful....to depend on the crude comments and obscene hand gestures tossed their way by little boys who should have been taught better. I wanted to pull them aside and yell at them, "YOU DESERVE BETTER. YOUR WORTH IS NOT DETERMINED BY THESE IDIOTS." While I generally don't really appreciate these Barbie wannabes, as a woman, I hate that they feel like they have to perform for these creeps.

As a society, we don't really expect men to be men anymore. As women, we've become accustomed to the idea of settling for less for fear we won't get more. Men have gotten lazy, because they know women won't wait any longer for them to step up. I'm guilty of this myself, I'll admit. If you've seen any of the guys I've dated, you'd know this is true. We no longer expect men to behave like gentlemen, and when someone actually does; we don't know how to handle it. If this was 50 years ago, and these same guys had made these comments to these girls, they'd still be getting the tar knocked out of them.

Now, I'll admit, women can occasionally bring the disrespect on themselves by dressing immodestly. We need to be more considerate of our brothers in Christ and the image we're presenting. Though it may not be our intention, if we walk around dressed a certain way...people are going to assume certain things about us. Jogging in a sports bra and barely-there shorts, almost screams "LOOK AT ME!!" People sometimes get so offended when you tell them they need to cover up or that the way they're dressing is immodest, but for the life of me, I don't understand why. When you see a white priest' collar, you assume the wearer is a clergyman. When you see a person with a cop's uniform on, you assume they're a cop. So why then, should a half naked woman be offended when someone thinks...well, you get my point.

Anyway, I'll say this, ladies....your worth, beauty and everything else are determined by Christ, not some foolish college freshman in a truck with other foolish college freshmen. Don't give them that power. Guys, respect the women you encounter and remember these dear women are precious to someone, even if that someone isn't you. A whistle, finger snap, or holler is NOT a compliment; it is an insult.

What dance are you?

This is pretty awesome since my friends and I have all really gotten into ballroom dancing. Good to know I'm on the right track.

You Are Ballroom Dancing

You are sophisticated and classy. Definitely not the type to be seen dancing on a bar. You are a bit old fashioned. You prefer dance to be subtly sexy, not in your face sexy. You are sentimental and nostalgic. You appreciate the beauty of old things. You are even tempered and cooperative. You work well with a partner.

What Dance Are You?

Tips from my kitchen 2

I've been entertaining for the past few nights, and I thought I'd share two of my menus for those who are wondering what to make for supper this week. The first is from a girl's night I hosted Friday, and it turned out really well (see the above pic).

Rosemary-Garlic Baked chicken (I used thighs, because they were on sale, and they are more flavorful)
Rice cooked with Bulgar wheat (seasoned w/a bit of salt and margarine)
Sauteed veggies (carrots, summer squash and fresh green beans)
A wonderful spinach salad made by one of my lovely friends + a lemon pepper vinaigrette I made up
Lemon bundt cake w/lemon icing.

We drank some yummy Riesling with the meal, and it really complimented the citrusy sort of theme we had going. The meal was light enough not to dull your senses afterwards, but of course very filling. It looked great on the plate, a nice balance of colors. The sauteed veggies were particularly pretty.

Tonight I had friends over, and I'm so proud of the deal I found, it's not even funny. After church, I had a million things going on...I'd actually forgotten about the dinner until a friend reminded me. Anyway, I went to Wal Mart near my church, seeking inspiration for the supper. That's when I found chicken quarters on sale for .74 cents a pound!!! I was able to get a family pack for $3.03!! I opted to do another baked chicken meal. Growing up, baked chicken was always so boring, so now I'm trying to make it exciting and do variations on it. Depending on how you make it, it's so much healthier than frying it.

Anyway, tonight's menu was:

Baked orange chicken (oranges were on sale)
Steamed fresh broccoli
Crescent rolls (on sale as well)
homemade brownies

Everything turned out well. I think the orange chicken is my new favorite baked chicken recipe. Here is is:

3/4 cups fresh squeezed orange juice (about the juice of 5 small oranges)
1/4 cup molasses (I used full flavored, but mild works just as well...or use 1/4 cup dark brown sugar for a sweeter flavor)
2 heaping tsp. cornstarch
a pinch or two of salt to taste
1/4 tsp of cayenne pepper
1 Tbs of sugar (if you just used molasses)
The zest of one orange

Whisk ingredients together in small bowl, then pour into a small sauce pan. Cook over medium heat until it begins to thicken. If you're making Chinese style orange chicken, this sauce should be poured over the fried chicken pieces. If you're making baked orange chicken, you should baked the chicken until it's done, then pour/brush the sauce over it and bake another 5-7 minutes at 375.

I love bargain shopping, and feeding my friends without breaking the bank. It pays to pay attention to sales ads and make notes of things when you're in the store. Also, try looking online for printable coupons for sales items that are being advertised in the weekly ad, you can save a ton! A lot of times, you can get away with using coupons (sometimes multiple coupons) on things that are already on sale.

Random thought

I am always surprised at how people perceive me. I realize everyone makes an impact/impression on the world in some shape, form or fashion, but I guess I minimize my own. With some regularity, I get asked, "How many children do you have?" Not, "Do you have kids?", though that does pop up every once in a while, and not "Are you married?", although in today's society...marriage seems to mean nothing anyway- especially with regards to having children or not. I hope this isn't a comment on the stereotype of young women (especially minority women) in America today. That's pretty depressing to think that when people see a minority female who's in her mid 20s, they automatically assume she has multiple children...likely by multiple baby-daddies and all on welfare. I seriously doubt most people ask that particular question for that reason.

I really hope the question doesn't pop up because of my physical appearance. Please don't tell me I LOOK like I've had a ton of babies! That's actually more depressing than the previous reason. Though I will admit, I've been known to eat enough for two. :-)

Occasionally I do actually ask why people think I have children, and they'll comment on some competency I've exhibited (also makes me wonder just exactly how incompetent are my fellow 20somethings?). Sunday afternoon, I was making strawberry milk for the kids at the shelter among 10 million other things that were occurring simultaneously, and one of the women that was helping me in the kitchen asked me about my kids. When I told her I wasn't married, had no babies, and no prospects (much to my annoyance), her mouth popped open and she said, "Really?!" as if, surely, I was lying. I then asked, "Why did you think I had kids?" She said, "Well I figured that was the case since you're so good at doing a million things at once." I've heard that answer before, though I don't totally agree with it. Women just seem to be naturally better at multi-tasking, babies or none. I don't know that I'm any better at it than anyone else. Other answers I've gotten are, "With your personality, it just seems like you'd have a few kids," (Not sure I totally get that...having a certain personality = having babies?), or "The way you are with kids made me think you were a mom, yourself."

I think the most popular reason people assume I have children is because I spend so much time with kids. It seems to be a foreign concept to have a single person that WANTS to spend at least a little bit of time with children on a daily basis. How could you not want to hang out with a passel of babies?! Kids are the coolest people on the planet, and they're small enough to fit inside stuff. Drop some change between your seat and the middle console in your car? Grab a kid, and have their tiny little hands fish it out for you! Can't reach something on that top shelf? Hoist a kid up on your shoulders, and BAM! those cookies you had hidden in the back of the pantry are now yours to devour secretly (though you'll have to give the child one to keep them quiet).

Anywho, those were just some of my thoughts as I was running errands today. :-) Happy Monday!

Fathers be good to your daughters

When I was much younger...probably 5 or so, I left "love notes" in my daddy's lunch bucket. I'd wake up every morning, and write something like "Have a good day!", "I love you!" or draw a smiley face on small slips of paper. I'd sneak into the kitchen, and stick them in with his lunch before anyone could see me. I think I only did that a couple of years, but I used to love picturing him opening it and smiling. He really didn't ever say anything about it at home, but I knew he liked it. A couple of times my mom found them in his overalls when she did laundry.

Probably until I was around 8, a few times a week right before bedtime, my dad and I would get into my parent's bed, and call my grandfather (dad's dad). We'd take turns talking to him, and when the call was over, we'd talk about our days for a bit. Afterwards, I'd crawl out of their bed and go to my own room where my mother would be waiting to read me a bedtime story. I used to look forward to talking to my Papaw, and daddy before bed. It was our thing.

Sometimes in the evenings, my dad and I would sit and watch TV together. He'd sit on the floor at my feet and hand me a brush, to have me brush his scalp. You see, my father is completely bald...only about 8 hairs on his head...maybe. I've never seen him with hair (other than the afore mentioned 8). He's got a very shiny head...looks like a Milk Dud. :-) Anyway, he said he loved it when I brushed his scalp, and honestly, so did I.

May 2005, I'd finished my first year at Baylor, and my parents had come up to help me move out of the dorm and back home for the summer. They had a UHaul trailer hitched to their truck, and we'd just finished putting everything in. We'd been on the road about an hour or so and my mom was talking to me about something, when from the back I heard a very quiet, "She drives like me" from my dad. It was an unexpectedly, intensely sweet moment. I'm sure he doesn't know I heard him, and I don't think he wanted me to. I looked in the rear view mirror and caught him looking at me, and smiling to himself.

Zooming into the more recent past, a couple of weeks ago when my father was in the hospital, I went back to East TX to be with him. I was there 5 nights, and I spent 4 of those nights in the hospital in a chair right next to his bed (I made my mom sleep on the fold out bed across the room). At night he didn't sleep very well, so neither did I. If he moved even a little bit, I'd wake up. I imagine that's what it's like when you have a newborn.

Don't get me wrong, my father and I had a horrible relationship for the longest time during my pre-teen/teen years, but things have gotten better. As it turns out, we both secretly loved each other very much, but the only one who knew it was my mom. Every once in a while she tells me of comments he made about me when I was younger...things he did for me, sacrifices he's made even now...for his "little dumpling". He's absolutely adored me all my life, and I never would have really known if not for my mom telling me.

This brings me to my point...Fathers: TELL your children (especially your daughters) how much you love them, and back it up with your actions. Be intentional about creating special moments with them, so that they'll have those fond memories to reflect on when they get older. Mothers: Encourage your husbands to be great fathers. Help him understand how important the father-daughter relationship is, and how essential it is that his children see AND hear how much he loves them.

Helpful tips from my kitchen

For those who were wondering, 1/4 cup of applesauce or half a banana can substitute for 1 egg in a baking recipe. 2 tbs of cornstarch will also do the trick. The awesome thing about this is that these substitutions are cheaper than a dozen eggs and are lower in cholesterol! Applesauce is also a good substitute for oil in most baked goods.

1 quart of almond milk is slightly cheaper than cow's milk, and can be stored unopened and unrefrigerated MUCH longer than cow's milk lasts in the fridge. By much longer, I mean...A YEAR (compare expiration dates)! It may also be used in any recipe that calls for cow's milk. Once opened though, it lasts about as long as cow's milk.

Right on time

So you learn a lot about yourself and your parents when one of them is in the hospital. For the past few days, the three of us have been in this one largish hospital room with my slightly cantankerous father being the focal point. I've had a couple of medium sized realizations, that have been kind of cool. The first came to me this morning when the doctor suggested we go ahead and talk to a social worker about applying for disability benefits from social security. We talked about how my father likely will not be able to return to his job in the same position he was in before. My father really isn't wanting to return to the workforce at all, which is understandable since the man is almost 61, and obviously not in good health. I told my parents I could help them with the application process, and they sort of said "yeah, okay...let's go find the social worker." Mom and I went in search of the hospital sw, and when we talked to her, all she said was "you'll have to go to the Social Security office in your area. I can't do anything." I figured that's what she'd say...I could have saved us the trip down the hall.

Mom and I returned to my dad's room, and mom told him what the SW had said. They were soon trying to figure out what SS office they were supposed to go to, and what they would need. Meanwhile, I'd quietly slipped into the corner with my laptop, and had gone to the SS website. Within seconds, I had a list of the documents they would need, and the address of the appropriate SS office. I'd even started calling to set up an appointment, but the line was busy (big surprise). My parents were still trying to figure out what to do, and I finally shared the information I had with them. The both kind of looked at me, and I think I changed from "Oh, that's just our daughter who doesn't know anything," to "This is a professional who can help us." The conversation changed, and my mom started asking me what forms did she need to get, and how could she make an appointment. She's out now, with the little grocery list of info I told her they'd need, trying to get everything.

The second "Ah-ha!" moment happened sometime between Friday and right now. In a previous post, I mentioned being afraid to face my parent's aging/mortality as a single woman. I've come to realize now, that for the time being, I'm actually in a great position to deal with my parents' aging/health issues. Unlike my siblings, I'm freer to be here with them when they need it. For the past few days, I've been spending the night right at my father's bedside, making my mother eat, and keeping on top of the hospital staff. Don't get me wrong, my sister and her family have been here to visit, but they haven't been able to stay as long. My parents feel more comfortable asking me to do things, because they know I don't really have anyone depending on me (like children or a husband). Because I was the last one to leave home, I'm the one that most familiar with their day to day lives, which is helpful when talking to the nurses, doctors, SW's, etc. My point is, God knows what He's doing. I may not always be particularly happy with my singleness, but He's definitely got a purpose for it. He's incredibly faithful, and will meet me at the point of my needs...not prematurely, not late, but right on time. I see now why the song, "He's an On Time God" was written. :-)

To live is Christ, to die is gain

So often it seems Christianity is portrayed as something that makes you weaker, more timid...a person afraid of their own shadow. It's more fun to reticule and torment Christians, because their beliefs keep them from doing anything about it other than thanking and blessing you. The truth is...being a real Christian takes uber amounts of courage. The awesome thing is...the courage comes from Christ and His love. This week, I've been faced with my father's mortality. Understanding and really believing the fact that if you don't have Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, you will go to Hell takes on a whole new context in times like these.

A friend and I were talking about how it seems we (Christians) tend to be a bit more afraid to witness to our own family members or close friends for various reasons. The idea that once you put that out there and call someone a sinner...and that those words can't be taken back sort of glues your tongue to the roof of your mouth. We desperately don't want to be that person. These thoughts crossed my mind as I was considering whether or not I could/would talk to my father about Jesus. It's important not to let DNA get your thoughts all twisted around. The fact that you don't want your loved one to spend an eternity in the fiery pits of Hell, separated from Jesus forever should be just the can o'spinach you need to drive you to unashamedly witness to them. My thought is...I can live with the awkwardness that can sometimes come from being that person, but they can't live without Jesus.

This is SO cool!

Home sweet home

As of late, I have been positively consumed with Biblical womanhood. There is an absolute plethora of information out there on this subject! I've stumbled across TONS of really good websites that have given me much in encouragement in this area. If possible there are even more BLOGS kept by some pretty amazing women. I've thoroughly enjoyed reading about their daily struggles, triumphs, heartaches and moments of outright JOY! Though, I have a fair amount of knowledge on homemaking just from my education and upbringing, I've learned much from these blogs and websites. Everything from "frugal living" to "how to make your home smell yummy." Homemaking and femininity are looked down upon in our society. The ideas of staying home to raise your children, and instilling the importance of family and God, are lost upon my generation. One blog, written by an older homemaker (I think her children are grown, and out of the nest), had helpful tips and advice for women who didn't have a "homemaking mentor".

This got me to thinking about my own upbringing. The more I get to know different people, the more grateful for my mother I become. She, taught me SO much about cooking, sewing, and making a house a home. There wasn't a formal "training", but rather, she just lived her life, and I learned untold numbers of valuable lessons from it. I remember when I was about 4 years old, I saw her sewing at the kitchen one day, and I walked up and said, "whatcha doin?". She said simply said, "sewing." Next thing ya know, I'd climbed up into one of the chairs next to her and started imitating her movements. She didn't really say anything, but rather, corrected me when I'd mess up (which was fairly often). I've been sewing ever since then. The same sort of thing happened with cooking.

I always loved to help her in the kitchen, or just to watch what she was doing. Every once in a while, she'd let me experiment by myself. Sometimes, if we'd seen some new and interesting food on TV, like an exotic fruit or new way of preparing something, she'd take me to the library, and we'd look up books about it. Then, the next time we went to the grocery store, we'd get it. The real fun when we'd come home and try it. It wasn't that my mom was a Suzy Homemaker type, but more that she just did the things she'd been taught by her mother. As for the food experiments, we did those because SHE was genuinely interested in trying new things, and wanted to satisfy her own curiosity.

When I have friends over for supper, it's so interesting to see what they do when they arrive, it says a lot about their upbringing. Usually guys will just go hang out in the living room, but the women do one of two things: 1.) They offer to help or 2.) They sit at the table, and watch me cook. Naturally, the women who grew up helping their mother in the kitchen, automatically offer to help, and the women who didn't, just sit and watch. I'm saddened that so many young women today know nothing about homemaking, because it has virtually nothing to do with being a domestic slave; it's about knowing how to manage your affairs. I guess this post is really just one, big "THANK YOU" to my mom, because as I read the blogs of these joyful homemakers and their many "adventures", I'm grateful to my mother for giving me a foundation from which to spring forth. Hopefully, someday I will be able to use my knowledge and abilities in an extended disco version way...when/if the Lord ever blesses me with a husband and a duck line of babies, but for now...I'm gonna go sit in my recliner and enjoy this tiny haven I've come to call home.

Busy?

For everyone too busy to breathe...

My people perish for lack of knowledge

I found this video on a friend's blog, and thought it was worth sharing:

I've discovered this wonderful website on Biblical womanhood.

www.biblicalwomanhoodonline.com

I stumbled across it when I was searching for a good recipe for homemade pizza crust (I tried the one from the website and it was fabulous). Check out the courtship story, it's incredibly sweet. I think it's well past time for courtship to make a comeback.

A hungry soul is all ears

I love God. I love that He opens my eyes, and provides correction when needed. I've been reading "Revolution in World Missions" by K.P. Yohannan, and it's really making me reconsider all that I thought to be right and true about mission work. Like many people, when you say "mission" I either picture going into a jungle to convert the savage natives, or setting up some sort of medical/dental clinic and/or food kitchen. In the book, Yohannan talks about how modern mission work has become more like social work...the "social gospel". The Church has lost it's focus, and become unbalanced. We'd rather make the people doomed to spend eternity in hell without God more comfortable here on earth, rather than preach the Gospel and "snatch" them from hell's fiery pits. It reminds me of the few mission trips I've been on where, if we were in a place for a week, we'd wait until the very last day to "teach" the Gospel to the people. Imagine how much more effective we could have been had we used EVERY day to share the Gospel with people. How many more souls could have been reached.

Anywho, the real revelation that I had was when I read the chapter on problems with the "social gospel". A couple of years ago, I listened to a presentation by a well known Christian organization about helping children overseas. It talked about sponsoring children and providing them with meals, because "an empty tummy has no ears". It said that once the child's basic physical needs had been met, the spiritual "self" could then be taken care of. This sounds logical and quite practical. When Yohannan said Gospel above and beyond all else, I immediately went to my Bible. You know how sometimes when you've read something before and you're going back through and re-reading it, you kind of skim over everything and assume you know exactly what's there? Yeah...next time...don't skim. I was shocked to realize, my idea of "feed the tummy, then go for the soul", was wrong. Now I understand that I'd just lost sight of the fact that Jesus is to be first and foremost ALWAYS. Not just when it's convenient, when you're full, clothed, and set up with decent lodgings. Always means ALWAYS.

First, we must come to faith in Christ; handing over every care, every worry, every unruly thought to The One who loves us, died for us, and is sitting at the right hand of the Father. Once we've got Him, everything else will come. He promises to take care of His children. "But seek first His kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." -Matthew 6:33. "These things" refer to the food, drink, and clothing; mentioned in verse 31. There is nothing wrong with building Christian schools, hospitals and other things, but "projects" like those are to be secondary to preaching the Gospel to the unreached people of the world. A hungry child does not need Christ and a hot dog. Christ is ENOUGH!

QT4ME

It's funny how friends can help you get to know yourself. Randomly, I decided to take some little online Love Language quiz, not too long ago. I was mildly surprised by the results, thinking my primary love language was Physical Touch. Its actually, Quality Time. When I mentioned this to one of my girlfriends, she immediately said, "I can see that." Curious, I asked how she could know something like that. Her response kind of took me aback. "It's what you ask for," she said, as if I should kinda have known that.

Looking back on my friendships, and how I judge the status of a friendship, and how I feel friendships grow; her reply makes total sense. Any of my friends will tell you, I always want to spend time with them when possible...preferably one-on-one. Sitting with someone one-on-one and opening up about life is how I know I'm loved/valued. The love comes from knowing that the other person has trusted me enough to make themselves vulnerable and that they want to be around me. When starting a new friendship, I absolutely ACHE to know everything about the other person, and in turn, I want to share my heart and passions with them. I love finally getting to the stage in a relationship where you can communicate tons of information with each other without saying a word.

I guess this is why it always hurts very deeply when I encounter someone who doesn't really want to share anything with me, nor do they want any one-on-one time with me. Now please don't misunderstand me in all of this. I'm not strictly talking about romantic relationships. This applies to both platonic (male or female) and romantic relationships. One thing I've noticed about myself is that quality time with a new acquaintance is the thing I'm most afraid to ask for. Given that, QT = love, it makes sense. If that person rejects me, or if the QT is compromised by lack of connection/interest, I could somewhat easily walk away from the situation feeling extremely hurt.

Understand this, quality time is not simply just being around another person. It's actually FOCUSING your attention on them exclusively for a sustained period of time. It's about sharing your life with them, and making them feel comfortable enough to share their life with you. I don't know about others, but for me specifically, it's not about sharing abstract theories/theologies, intellectual debates, and impersonal musings. It's about communicating the things you're passionate about, sharing bits and pieces of the events/moments that have gotten you to where you are, and dialoging about where you hope to be.

candles burning at both ends.

On Friday, my mother will turn 61. With each passing year I take a closer and closer look at my parents' mortality. This may sound morbid to some of you, but others of you are probably nodding your heads in understanding. The older my parents get (my father will be 61 in October), the more I think about my own lot in life and the lots of my siblings. As some of you may know, I do have two biological siblings. A sister, 37; and a brother, 38. I don't have a working relationship with either, and I mainly know about their lives through the bits and pieces I get from our parents (even now it feels weird saying our parents). Both my brother and sister each have a child, and my sister has been married for 15 years. Now you may be wondering how my parents' mortality ties in with my brother and sister. You see, the older my parents get, and the more single I get (okay, so maybe singleness doesn't really increase, but occasionally it feels that way); the more resentment becomes a concern. Given our family medical history, I'm somewhat concerned about how many "good years" my parents have left.

The resentment comes in when I start thinking about all the things my parents have shared with my significantly older siblings. They (my sibs) got my parents when they were a young, fresh, newly wed couple. Both got the "new parent" smell. They were involved with all kinds of things, and their childhoods were like the Golden Ages. They got to go through their 20s and finding their way in life when my parents were middle aged. My father walked my sister down the isle. I remember when he had "the talk" with my future brother-in-law before he proposed. Facing my parents' mortality as a single woman scares the crap out of me. I think back to how they took care of my paternal grandfather during his last years of life, and I know they couldn't have done it without each other. Christians, I know we aren't supposed to worry about tomorrow, nor what we shall eat, drink or wear, because God will handle it, but that doesn't mean that I don't.

What if my parents pass away before I finally get established in a career, marriage, or in some other way? What if the Lord FINALLY blesses me with children, and my parents are there to share in that? Sometimes I find myself anxious to give them grandchildren just to "make it up to them". They were definitely part of the movement of "grandparents as parents". They practically had to raise my nephew (who is 15 now), because in someways, I feel my sister wasn't ready to be a mother...and she didn't chose a husband wisely. They haven't gotten to be just grandparents, because I was only 10 when my nephew was born. So not only did they have the mid-life child to raise, but they had to start over again with a grandchild that lived with them off and on.

I guess, if I'm honest, I'd say I want to make them proud. I want to be the child that has a good working relationship with both of them, went to college, got married, had a family and was just a well behaved, Christian woman. I want them to see that before it's too late. So this is where the resentment that my brother and sister "got them first", comes from. I feel as if I now have half the time to be 4 times better. Not to mention, I don't want to face their mortality as a single person because I know I will NEED the love and support of someone who's there "for better or for worse". This may sound old fashioned, but I sometimes sense that my father worries about whether or not I'll be taken care of if anything ever happened to them. Just something to think about: what do you want your parents to see happen in your life before they pass? Brings new meaning to the words "die happy", huh?

BUT DADDY, I WANT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, folks, I'm semi-late to work at the moment, so this post will be brief. People react differently to having a dream crushed (for lack of a better word), or in some cases having a dream put on hold for a season. Usually, the reaction is a touch on the negative side...involving crying, questioning God, anger, resentment, etc. What about experiencing relief? In some rare cases, it's possible to be relieved you didn't get exactly what you wanted. I say this because, for me, it's so easy to let a dream/goal/desire enslave me. It becomes my god, and I worship at it's alter daily, sometimes hourly. For the most part, the things I want...the things I pursue aren't bad in and of themselves, but that's before I start obsessing over them. So relief can come when God, in His infinite wisdom...and righteous jealousy, closes a door to a dream. He's not hurting you for the fun of it; He's freeing you. Christ has already set us free, but for some reason, we like to return to our old ways occasionally and get tangled back up. Eh well...just some thoughts as I'm seriously late now and about to run out the door.

Am I too heavy for you?

I was sitting here in my blue chair, singing, reading Scripture, and sipping coffee when I decided to take another stroll down memory lane, and read some old poetry and songs I wrote way back when. There were poems from ten years ago, but the one I'm about to share was written on 7/10/2003. I'm thinking the title may need some tweaking, but the original inspiration was one of my favorite songs written/performed by Mitch McVicker; called "Deeper In Love".

Soaring on Wings of Grace

Once I was trapped, shackled by my sins; life was not worth living.
Then I heard Your voice calling to me,
bidding me to make the leap of faith into Your waiting arms.
Satan and His minions mocked me, saying,
"Your Prince will never come through"
I turned to You and saw mercy and sweet forgiveness in Your eyes.
With that, I jumped...my only words being,
"Lord, I have nothing left to lose, and all of You to gain, so please...catch me as I fall deeper in love with You."

I wrote this early in my relationship with Christ...and now I find myself praying, "Lord, don't drop me."

(PS: I'm aware that the title of this post may have lead you to believe the post was going to be about something else entirely...please know that that was purposeful/for my own amusement).

Hope Gloats

I watched the Joel Osteen interview on 60 minutes. May I say that I'm SO thankful I'm a member of a church where the Gospel is loved and preached each and every Sunday? Osteen actually said he doesn't feel like he's particularly gifted, nor does he feel the need to continuously talk about Scripture and Christ. He's focused more on "giving people hope" and making them feel better (meaning, sending out warm fuzzies). The question is...what is he attempting to make them hope in? He talked a lot about how good it makes him feel when people talk about how HE has changed their lives and how good HE has made them feel. Don't mistake me here, HE does not = God, HE= Osteen. Yeah, again...so grateful for RPC.

The people you'd love to hate; only you can't

"(7) For my people are bent on turning from Me. Though they call them to the One on high, None at all exalts Him. (8) How can I give you up, O Ephraim? How can I surrender you, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart is turned over within Me, All My compassions are kindled" - Hosea 11:7&8

I stumbled across this verse during church today just before communion. It pierced right into my heart like never before. I actually already had verse 8 highlighted, but I don't think it's ever effected me so strongly. I immediately teared up, and would have actually sobbed if I had not put a firm clamp on my rampant emotions. This is such a beautiful verse because it shows just how much God loves us, IN SPITE OF US. He's determined to love us, and can do nothing else because that is just who He is.

FYI: Zeboiim is one of the cities that was destroyed with Sodom and Gomorrah. The same also applies to Admah.

Dark side of the jen

Yesterday I worked 11 hours in the sun...the hot, hot sun. I'm 20 shades darker, than I was at 6am yesterday. When I got home, I was glowing. Not sunburned, though...my skin actually looks pretty decent; just darker. The catering company I'm working for was chosen to be the cater for a travel channel commercial shoot! I was the "lucky" soul that got to be on site...ALL DAY....ALONE with the crew. They were filming a commercial for Anthony Bourdain's show, "No Reservations". Yes, I got to meet him. Not bad, not bad at all. I was with the crew all day as they walked up and down Elm street filming and shooting. Did I mention it was a bit toasty? Yeah...

My boss left me there by myself to wait on the crew of 20-30 people, hand and foot. "Pamper them", she said as she sped off. It wasn't too bad. I would walk around the set every 10 minutes or so with snack baskets/goodies to offer the crew. I had a "station" set up with all of my supplies. I'd walk a block and a half to offer them stuff/make sure they had enough drinks in their cooler, then walk a block and a half back to my station to refill. Needless to say, I was worn out then, and I'm still worn out (even though I just finished working 9.5 hours today). It was fun to watch them shoot, and they were extremely nice. At one point Anthony was wielding a flame thrower...you haven't lived until you've seen one used in real life. :-)

For lunch, my boss came back to drop off the food and help set up the buffet. We fed them breaded chicken Parmesan, pesto pasta, veggies al dente, salad, and Dr. Pepper cake. Then my boss again left me alone to be their servant-girl. I cleared all 20-30 plates (plus the 6 cops we had on site since we were in the highest crime area in Waco), and cleaned up as they went back out to continue shooting. After I cleaned, and sat down (for the first time all day) for 10 minutes, I was back out the door, walking the block with my baskets. I felt a little like I was in Juarez because I was walking the streets with baskets of food, the buildings were brightly colored, and there were...unsavory characters milling about. I got hit on multiple times by the characters, and once I thought this thug looking guy was going to get out of his car and either kill, rape or kidnap me. He'd spotted me, pulled up to the curb and started trying to "holla" at me, then got annoyed when I wasn't interested. The cops were not there looking out for me.

Anywho, yesterday was an interesting experience, and I got to meet a celebrity (not to mention I also got 2 hours overtime pay...woohoo!).

If I was them, I wouldn't let me in...

This may surprise some of you, but I'm a very sentimental person. I have a couple of "time capsules"...things I'd like to save for the future from important eras/happenings in my life. Some of the items in these capsules are meant for the children I hope to have one day. They are journals, letters, and other artifacts from my pre-teen/teen years on up until now. I've seen countless sitcoms and movies where a curious child or two will run across their mother's old journal. When they read it, they really start to see their mother as a person...as someone who was once just like them. They begin to understand that mom wasn't always mom. I like this idea. I wish my own mother had kept a journal, so I could have read it...maybe gleaned some hard-learned wisdom from it. When I was very young and just learning to read, I occasionally read my older sister's journal. She's 13 years my senior, so it was pretty juicy. Always about boys and feelings from what I can remember. Now, I wish I could have read her journal again...when I was a teenager. She and I don't have the best relationship, so I can't really go and ask her questions about her youth now.

Last night I was rummaging through a drawer looking for penny wrappers. Yes, I might be the only person under 80 who still wraps their pennies. It's a habit I picked up from childhood...for some reason I used to love saving my pennies and seeing how many wrapped rolls I could build up. Anywho, I stumbled across an unintentional time capsule. I have this brightly colored tin filled with small whatnots and whosits. Old things that kind of don't hold much sentimental value, but for some reason I won't throw them away. Things like the tiny, fake, white flowers I put in my hair for jr prom; the small, pink butterfly clippies I got on an orchestra trip to Galveston; buttons, dice (I don't know why I have dice), and other random treasures. I began reminiscing, and dug through some of the papers/pictures that were stuffed in this medium sized tin. I remembered how I felt during prom, on the orchestra trip and in the pictures. Do you remember how, as a teenager, you felt everything was a life or death issue? Wearing the wrong clothes to school would literally mean the end of the world. Having the box "yes", "no" or "maybe"; checked was the difference between floating on cloud nine and plummeting into the pits of hell.

As one grows up, you start to zoom out a bit. The bigger picture comes into focus just a bit more. Sort of like with mapquest where you can view the map at either a street-by-street level, or zoom all the way out until you're looking at a map of the entire state...sometimes the entire nation. Even now, I find myself zooming back in...focusing on things that really don't matter right now. I spent a good amount of time chastising myself for picking up my old "this is the end of the world" mentality, last night. I guess the point of this post is to invoke some sort of thoughtfulness...are you zooming in or out?

Some place to call home

Because I believe so strongly that ALL children need a place to call home, and someone to love them...I'm giving you this link. This is a link to a post of a wonderful woman from my church who (along with her husband) have recently become foster parents. Single people especially, can feel left out of the foster care/adoption world...I think the resources listed in this extremely informative post, can help those of us that want to get involved, but may not know how.

Professionally, I've worked with children from foster/adoptive homes (currently I'm starting an application with Child Protective Services), and I can certainly tell you they need love just like any other child out there. Personally, I long for the day when I can adopt children. I'm not sure why there's this misconception that those kids are like cacti, and thus they don't really need any sort of sustained, nurturing or care. If anything, they are like the most delicate of violets or orchids...they MUST be nurtured/sheltered/cared for. Imagine being 18 years old and never having had someone say "I love you", never having had someone there to kiss your owwies, wipe your tears, or hold you during a thunderstorm. So again, I direct your attention to this post. Get involved!

Join with all nature in manifold witness...

As I was cleaning my apartment, I found this poem I'd written under a pile of papers. It was written on May 9th of this year. I make no promises about the grammatical correctness of this poem.

Come

From the darkness came the voice of my Beloved. he wooes me gently with soft words and loving-kindness.
Strong and steady as a mountain is His love for me
Nothing and no one will tear me from my Beloved's arms
I am my Beloved's, and He is mine.

He adorns me in righteousness, because of Him, I am beautiful.
Sheltered by His never ending grace, I know no fear and no want.
Minions of the evil one cannot harm me
I am my Beloved's, and He is mine

Patient, kind and unselfish is His love, I am the apple of His eye.
Though I flit and run into the arms of others, my Beloved remains;
great is His faithfulness.
Each day He awakens me, that I may know His mercy in a new way
Battered & bruised, broken & scorned, I came to Him. He has made me new.
I am my Beloved's, and He is mine.

jl

it's hard to pray for someone you're not so sure exists...

Today was my first time to help with setting up for a wedding reception. It was stressful, and extremely hard work. There were tons of people around, including the stressed out bride and her party. They were busily trying to set up the centerpieces and other decorations in the reception hall. I didn't realize this for the longest time, but the ceremony was to take place in the yard of the old house were we were. There was such a heaviness in the air, the heaviness that this young woman and her beloved's lives were about to change forever. The bride didn't seem as excited as one would have hoped, then again, I guess that's understandable if you're having to literally do everything on your wedding day.

I began setting the tables, for some reason that's becoming one of my favorite things to do. Anywho, as I was folding the napkins, I turned and saw the bride just as she stepped out of her dressing room. She looked beautiful, as all brides do (in their own way). The wedding party milled about for a bit (occasionally stopping to tell me, the tables looked "awesome" might I add...:-) ) before they went outside to take pictures. The bridesmaids lifted the sheer overlay on the bride's dress and her train as she headed out. The sun caught the sequins/beadwork and I wanted to kick the photographers for missing such a "Kodak moment"! The sparkling overlay looked like some kind of sugary confection.

I had to head back to the shop to pass the van on to the cook who was taking the food to the reception hall, so I didn't get to stay for the actual reception. One thing that's been running through my mind is that I don't want to leave a legacy of regrets and selfishness. I'm that person that wishes they could hug the entire world. I wonder how much difference would it make if everyone hugged at least one stranger each day.

We are family!

One thing that I've been more aware of is the family culture. It's one thing to be friends with married couples and families as a single person, but something is...missing in that friendship. Families have a culture that is both unique to each family, yet also serves as a common ground between families. It doesn't matter if you're a couple just starting out as man and wife, or if you've been married for decades and are now at the point where you're spoiling grandchildren, you share something with other families that single people just can't take a part in. We're all very aware of it, but it becomes more evident each time you're with other families and there happens to be single people present. We like to think of people in units...either a family, or a couple, so single people are a bit more complicated and usually end up getting lumped with other singles.

My point in writing about this is simply to process this feeling. Today, I was with tons of foster families and hopeful foster families, and the family culture was just overwhelming. My singleness was equally overwhelming. This culture (at least from an outsider's point of view) says, "we're going through the same things; having a family is hard, trying, funny, heart-breaking, absolutely CRAZY....and SO worth it! Thank goodness we're not single, huh?" There are couples/families, I LOVE being around, and then there are couples/families that seem to completely focus their energies on making singles aware (and shameful of) their singleness...they seem to say...we found someone...why couldn't you? Thankfully, I wasn't around any of the later type of couples/families.

1 Peter 3:1-9

" (1) In the same way, you wives, be submissive to your own husbands so that even if any of them are disobedient to the word, they may be won without a word by the behavior of their wives,
(2) as they observe your chaste and respectful behavior.
(3) Your adornment must not be merely external--braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses;
(4) but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God.
(5) For in this way in former times the holy women also, who hoped in God, used to adorn themselves, being submissive to their own husbands;
(6) just as Sarah obeyed Abraham, calling him lord, and you have become her children if you do what is right without being frightened by any fear.
(7) You husbands in the same way, live with your wives in an understanding way, as with someone weaker, since she is a woman; and show her honor as a fellow heir of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered.
(8) To sum up, all of you be harmonious, sympathetic, brotherly, kindhearted, and humble in spirit;
(9) not returning evil for evil or insult for insult, but giving a blessing instead; for you were called for the very purpose that you might inherit a blessing.

This passage is what's on my heart at the moment. The first part of this passage reminds me of the saying, "Actions speak louder than words". Think back to all those sitcoms/wifey jokes you've heard. Usually there' s always something about a nagging wife, and how a husband learns to tune her out. She feels that she has to nag, or she won't get what she wants; and he feels that if she didn't nag all the time, he might be more inclinded to listen. Now of course, things are a bit more serious in actuality, but is there ever room for exhortation in a marriage?

Naturally, we (men, women, children) don't like to be told when we're doing something wrong....we hate having our faces shoved in our "mess". There are, however; times when we think our sin is still a secret...that because no one else seems to have noticed it, it must not be a problem. Sometimes it takes that one person...who, in love, gently says, "We need to talk about...". I'm not arguing with the Scripture, God knows what He's talking about; just thought I'd think out loud a bit.

I'm intrigued by the end of v.7 "...so that your prayers will not be hindered". Is this saying that a lack of harmony in your home will lead to such spiritual unrest that you will be unable to pray effectively? I'll do more reading on this.

bumpy start

Ok, I've gotten some posting started, but the older posts are first...so for right now, for the most recent posts, you'll need to scroll down...

I wanna fly away

Written 4/3/08

Some days I can't wait to get "old". I can't wait to be able to look back on a (hopefully) long lifetime of God's continual, relentless faithfulness. Even at 24 years old, I've got plenty examples of that. I've had a fairly rough year since graduating. Many of you know about my struggles, and frustrations. If not....scroll down. This past week, I had yet another wall erected in my path, but thanks to past lessons learned, I've already regrouped and am prepping to hopefully charge full steam ahead down the next path. Praise God for teaching me adaptability!

In other news...I had my taxes done today. It was an interesting experience. I went the cheap (free) route, and had my taxes done at a local school's free tax preparation clinic thing. As I was sitting in the school library taking my surroundings, I was stuck at how much it reminded me of something like a free clinic. There were babies crying, (potential) baby mama's talking loudly into cell phones while wearing outfits 20x too small, young men... (potential) baby daddies wearing shirts and pants/shorts 20x too big on their stick thin frames. Gossip was flying about, and the whole time, some old...slightly sleazy guy...probably 45 or so, was trying desperately to have a conversation with me. Forgive me, but...I was not trying to hear anything he had to say. I know, I know...not very Christlike, but you didn't see the way he was eyeing me.

Last night I was up late watching old PBS episodes of Julia Child's Master Chef's show. Learned how to make pasta. Quickly tried that recipe today for lunch. SO much fun! All the shaping of the pasta and rolling out the dough. I made broad noodles, fettutini, and bowtie pasta...all pink, thanks to the beet juice. I cooked some of it in chicken broth, then reduced the amount of broth and added a bit of butter to make more of a creamy sauce on the noodles w/o them swimming in sauce. Very tasty!

Anywho, love to you and yours!

Therapist Wanted

Written 4/13/08:

Yesterday (Saturday) we had our 3 game of the season, and....yeah...it was not pretty. We lost 5-1. The kiddos were trying their hardest, so I guess I'm proud of them for that. (For those of you that don't know, I'm coaching a little league soccer team for FBC Waco...1st and 2nd graders). So now we're 1-2...at least we aren't dead last in our league, though. Anyway, we had a new kid join our team today. She's a super cute 7 yr old who has totally traumatized me for life; hence the title of this post. Since we had 8 players show up for the game, I decided to play 6 and have 2 subs.

I'd rotated out the new kid, and she was sitting on the bench next to me watching the game...or so I thought. It turns out she was studying my hand. Suddenly she asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?" I was a bit startled by the question since it seemed so out of the blue...I'd just met this kid like 15 mins before the game, for crying out loud! "Nope, I don't." I replied, wondering what had even brought this up. "Do you have a husband?," she persisted. Looking at my hands, I realized she'd been looking at the silver ring on my right ring finger. "The ring is on my right hand, not my left. Wedding rings go on your left hand. No, I don't have a husband," I explained. "Why not?", came the incredulous response. "Do you have kids?" She'd said this before I had a chance to reply to her previous question. "No, I don't have kids. Right now God wants me to be single, and that's perfectly okay. There is nothing wrong with not having a boyfriend or a husband."

I was having an out of body experience by this point. Physically, I was sitting there calmly answering her prying questions, but my spirit was sitting next to me on the bench staring at her in shock, probably thinking "What a brazen child this is! She has not been taught proper manners! Look at how she speaks to me!" Truth be told, she was quite calm and matter-of-fact about the whole thing. To her it just seemed odd that someone of my apparent old age, wouldn't be married with children. I thought she was done with her questioning, but no...oh no.
"Don't you want children, Coach Jen?" She may as well have stabbed me right in the heart. "Don't you want a husband?" At this point I looked around wondering was this actually happening. The assistant coach, one of my friends, had heard much of the exchanged and walked away snickering to herself, before these last two shots were fired in my heart. For a minute, I didn't know what to say. Should I explain about not always getting what we want?

Ugh...this is one of those "guide their hearts" moments people are always talking about. I thought for a second, then turned to face her a bit more fully. "Yes, I do want children...and a husband very much, but you see...God has a different plan for me right now. God knows what I need, and when I need it. He will give me a husband and children at just the right time, because His timing is perfect. So it's okay that I'm not married and I don't have kids right now." She seemed to be processing that answer...not sure if she understood it fully, or what. After a few seconds of silence, she said, "My parents are married." Honestly, I was still feeling a tiny bit wounded from her original interrogation. The desire to have children is frequently at the forefront of my mind, but the desire for a husband...well...it waxes and wanes a bit. (Weird, and horribly backwards, I know) For the past couple of days, however; both urges had waged war on my heart. Children are like arrows...they get to the heart of things. Ah...the quiverful movement.
Anywho, I decided to fire some questions back at hear, just to make sure I wasn't missing another teaching moment. "Do you have a boyfriend?" The look she gave me was quite comical. "I'm 7," she said...somewhat exasperatedly. Laughing, I said, "True. I was just making sure." A smile slowly spread over her cute face, "My daddy says I'm not allowed to date...ever. That's okay with me. Boys are kinda weird, but it's still okay to play soccer with them." Where has this kid been all my life? "That's right, it's fun to play soccer with them. Your daddy is very smart, dating isn't all it's cracked up to be. It's better to wait as long as possible. Being friends with boys is good enough." We both kinda laughed, and turned to watch the game. Her earlier inquiries are still haunting me, though. They echo the same things I've been asking God as of late...especially in light of the recent developments in my life. Oh well. To quote the lovely Ms. Sheryl Crow, "Everyday is a winding road...I get a little bit closer...everyday is a faded sign...I get a little bit closer to feelin' fine."

You just gotta laugh

Written 4/21/08

Saturday's game was...*sigh* full of passion, prayer, positivity. All 3 came from me. I think if the league season lasted a few more weeks, people would start coming to the games just to watch ME. I'm all over the place on the sidelines. I run just as much as the kids. I'm the kind of coach that runs up and down the sidelines as my team runs up and down the field. I'm the kind of coach that jumps up and down yipping not unlike a little dog. I'm the kind of coach that's as close to the white line as possible yelling/screaming/cheering until they practically pass out. Mind you, I'm not yelling out anything mean to the babies...it's all encouragement/directional stuff. It's just loud and frequent. They tune me out, though.

Now for the prayer. I'm quick to call upon the help of the Lord every time the other team is in our goal box...or we're in theirs. Lots of wrestling with major theological issues such as, "WHY!? WHY!? DIDN'T IT GO IN?" (predestination...it apparently wasn't meant to go in), and classics like, "WHY DID HE DO THAT, OH PLEASE TELL ME WWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHTYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!?????????", "PLEASE LET HIM STOP THE BALL, O, PLEASE PLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAASSSSSSSEEEEEEEEE, LET THE BOY STOP THE BALL!!!!!"
You'd think with all the things I've said there would be no positivity here, but there is! I am positive each game ages me by about 50 years.

Anywho, here is a funny moment from the game:
So we had one sub, and he was sitting on the bench the last I'd checked on him. The other coach and I were standing on the sideline watching the game and doing some of the aforementioned encouraging/directing. Suddenly the ref blows his whistle and motions both teams to set up for a penalty kick (PK). Someone on my team had done something. A handball in the goalie box. I looked to see who'd committed such a HORRIBLE crime (we've dedicated several minutes talking about not touching the ball with our hands). Apparently the child that was supposed to be on the bench had gotten so impassioned/fired up watching the game that he'd left the bench, run onto the field, and picked up the ball because it was very close to our goal and he wanted to help our team. At first the other coach and I said, "No hands! You're not supposed to....wait...WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FIELD!!??? COME OVER HERE AND SIT BACK DOWN!!"

Run, Run, Run away!

Written 4/30/08:

This weekend, I went to San Antonio to run in the Fiesta Fandango Fun Run. It's a 2.6 mile run were teams can dress up in fun costumes. Our team didn't really dress up in a costume, but we were united in that we were all Baylor grads. The run was hard, but I was able to finish in 38 minutes and 25 seconds. I stayed with my friend's aunt and uncle, and the next day we went to the Fiesta marketplace in downtown. I didn't buy anything, but it was still fun. The ride back to Waco Sunday afternoon wasn't too bad, lots of good discussion. Sunday evening, I invited some friends over. I was in the mood for soul food. I made fried chicken, collard greens and hot water cornbread, mac & cheese, and peach cobbler. We had a lot of fun, and laughed until almost 2 am. I hope everyone out there is doing well!

Bye Bye Baby

Written 5/3/08

Today was the last day of our little league soccer season. You gotta give it to my babies...they've been very consistent. We lost 4-0. The highlight of the game was when our goalie dove for a ball, and when it bounced off him, he crawled about 7 feet to get it. It was a hardcore we're-in-the-army-now kind of crawl. The ball was still in bounds, but his teammates and the other team were so fascinated by the site of his passionate pursuit of the ball, that they didn't go after it, but just stood and watched him.

We had the cookout and awards ceremony in the afternoon. After the ceremony, I hung out for a bit then decided to go. I found a few of my kiddos sitting w/their fams and walked over to say my goodbyes. As I was hugging them for the last time, it hit me how much I hate that part of ministry. I hate not seeing where the children I work with will be years from now. I hate not knowing the end of the story. I hate the idea that I may or may not get to see them in heaven one day. I want to see what they're like when they're adults...how they treat their own children. Anyway, I said goodbye to the boys (who were surprisingly sad...didn't expect them to be as sad as they were).

I went to say goodbye to one of the girls, and I knew it would be hard. She's the child who made me question everything in my life mentioned in one of the previous post. She looked up at me with misty eyes, and said "I'm really gonna miss you Coach Jen." I got a tiny bit misty eyed; it was like one of those scenes in movies where the adult says something like "Look deep in your heart, little one, I am always with you. " or something like that. I'm horrible with goodbyes. I always get too choked up to actually say anything. I wanted to share some last words of encouragement and comfort, but instead I said, "I know....I'll miss you too." and hurried off before I actually did cry.

So yeah, that's over. I'm considering helping with the basketball team in the fall. We'll see. I can't help but wonder why I work with children, and it hit me when I walked over to where some kids were playing today, and one of my babies was there. When he turned and saw me, his face lit up and he ran over saying "Coach Jen! Coach Jen!" and proceeded to dive into my arms. As we were walking to were the rest of the team was, he reached up and grabbed my hand...one of the sweetest moments in my life. It wasn't the first time he's done something like that...he did it during practice all the time, but at that moment when I was tired from trying to coral kids in an inflatable obstacle course and feeling frustrated...that was just what I needed.

Daughters of The King

Written 5/11/08:

Today is Mother's Day, and before you even ask...yes, I called my mother. I think maybe, aside from November-December, Mother's Day is the next hardest day/time for me as a single woman. I could bemoan the fact that I am helpmate to no one, and childless, but...why bother.

I've had a lot of good conversations this week. I think all good conversation starts with either a good cup of coffee or a good plate of food...I should take that hypothesis and turn it into a research project. Anywho, I've got questions I'd like to pose to you out there that are reading this.
When does a boy become a man?

How does Biblical womanhood play out in the life of a single woman? It seems many of the ideas of Biblical womanhood are tied to being a wife/mother and being under the authority of God and your husband (or your father). I can't help but feel like half a woman at times (especially on days like today). I have more thoughts on this particular topic, that will be covered in future posts, but for right now, I just want to know what other people have to say about the matter.

History

I will copy and paste many of my more recent posts from my xanga to this site in the coming days/hours, but for older posts/more history, you'll have to go to my xanga (www.xanga.com/song_of_someone3).