A Tale in Every Trunk

I was talking to my friend tonight and in the course of our conversation, we were talking about all the boxes of stuff in our houses. For her, it's stuff from her life, having moved a few times over the years. For me, I have stuff of my own as well as boxes from my mom's house. We were commiserating about having to "go through" them and clean out. But each item in each box tells a story; that's what makes it so hard to ditch. I was reminded of what treasures are in my parents boxes when I found letters written between my parents as my dad traveled on the road, often for weeks at a time. So many times he wrote lines to the effect of, "I don't have enough money to get to my next destination. I'll just have to trust God will provide." And sure enough, within hours often, someone in the church he was at would hand him $10 or $20 so he could get to the next series of meetings. I am often sad that I didn't take the time to talk to my parents more of their spiritual journeys through life. I am thankful that all the "junk" in the boxes lets me hear their story of God's love and faithfulness to them.

A Great Read for 2011

Just finished reading "Pearl in the Sand" by Tessa Afshar. Wow, a really captivating book. It is the fictionalized story of Rahab who saved the Israelite spies in Jericho. Each page had me dwelling on some aspect of our relationship with God and others. I loved how the author portrays Rahab being drawn to the true and living God before she even understood anything about Him. God does draw us to Himself when we allow Him to speak to us. Each step of obedience to Him draws us deeper and deeper into the plan He has for us. I am convinced more each day, that all God requires of us is to choose His way over the way I would naturally want to react to events and people. Eventually, His way becomes the natural way to live. And what Peace and Joy follow.

Julia Child I'm Not

My favorite movie last year was "Julie and Julia", a wonderful film with food, writing and Meryl Streep. All things I thoroughly enjoy! I am not (nor ever will be) a gourmet cook, but tonight I tried a yummy recipe from Taste of Home magazine. I love this magazine because they have "real people" recipes. This one was called "Chicken Crescent Wreath". I actually had fun chopping up the red pepper, broccoli, onion, and water chestnuts into little pieces. And who doesn't love popping open Pillsbury dough in the tubes. When all the ingredients were mixed together it made such a lovely conglomeration of colors that it was like a holiday wreath. Final step--folding over the little triangles of dough over the mixture. What do you think? Look good enough to eat?






I'm happy to report, it was scrumptious! We enjoyed this meal along with Grandpa and Grandma visiting from Connecticut. Perfect meal for a perfect evening with family. For tonight I actually felt like I was a cook extraordinaire.


Here's the recipe for those who want to try it:
CHICKEN CRESCENT WREATH
2 tubes (8 ounces each)refrigerated crescent rolls
1 cup (4 ounces) shredded Co-Jack cheese
2/3 cup condensed cream of chicken soup
1/2 cup chopped fresh broccoli
1/2 cup chopped sweet red pepper
1/4 cup chopped water chestnuts
1 can (5 ounces) white chicken,drained or 3/4 cup cubed cooked chicken
2 tablespoons chopped onion

Arrange crescent rolls on a 12-in. pizza pan, forming a ring
with pointed ends facing the outer edge of pan and wide ends overlapping.
Combine the remaining ingredients; spoon over wide ends of rolls.
Fold points over filling and tuck under wide ends (filling will be visible).
Bake at 375 degrees for 20-25 minutes or until golden brown. Yield: 6-8 servings.

A Wish for 2011

I don't make New Year's Resolutions because they are always broken within a few weeks. My "plan" for this year is to blog a bit more than I did. For one, it really is a way of looking back and seeing how God has revealed himself to me and also what the real me was experiencing in this life on any given day. Having a mom who is losing all touch with reality and memory has made me value those life experiences even more. Like sipping tea with my very best friend that I don't get to see very often and talking about everything and anything. Like watching our 2 youngest sliding recklessly down a hill on toboggans. Like sitting in the silence of my living room in the predawn light reading how great God's faithfulness to His people is. Simple events but I want to remember them. And be grateful for it all.

A Westful Wetweet

I could hardly wait to have the key turn in the ignition switch. "Come on, come on, let's go," I say impatiently to my husband. Heading off for 6 glorious days away from home with all its responsibilities from email, voicemail, and snail mail. AWAY...to peace, quiet, and rest. Deer Island, New Brunswick, Canada lay a mere 6 and a half hour drive plus 20 minute ferry ride away. The cozy little cottage overlooking Chocolate Cove (named for a plant that when scraped, smells like chocolate)beckoned to me. It is not fancy by any means. Most of the furnishings have been in the house for decades. The chaise with most of its stuffing falling out is positioned just right for napping in the late afternoon sunshine. The bathroom (complete with bare rafters) has a tub, sink and toilet crowded together in one area while the rest of the room feels like you're in grandma's attic. The funky bedrooms with the creaky springs on the beds and mothball smelling linens make you feel like you've stepped back into the 1930's. And all this is the most wonderful place to retreat from the 21st century.
As the car aimed northward (or should I say DownEast), the lupins along the roadside were prolific and magnificent in their purples, blues, pinks and whites. Usually we came to Deer Island in Augusts, way past lupin season. I drank in their beauty. We meandered our way along, enjoying the journey as well as anticipating the destination. Stops included a delicious bakery with unique pastries, a very "Mainey" gift shop (purchased Blueberry Honey for my eldest), and of course a stop at The Big Chicken Barn of Ellsworth and its enormous supply of used books. After a very late lunch, we put the car in high gear for the ferry landing. No more stops. Arriving at the landing, it was so hard to wait the 15 minutes until the John E. Rigby lowered its ramp for us to drive on.
Charging through the crisp early summer air, the wind trying to blow our hats off, we caught sight of the island. Only minutes now until our time of rest and refreshing begins. We land, drive off the ferry and wind our way toward the Cove on the islands one main road, passing all the spots that have become more familiar with each visit. Stuarttown (David's ancestors), Lord's Cove, the salmon cages, Big Meadow, the cemetary where lie past Fountains, and finally, Chocolate Cove. We pull in the steep drive up to the cottage. Bella Vista. So aptly named with it's views over the bay to Eastport and toward the Atlantic and Campobello Island. I know the week ahead will be amazing because of the simplicity of every part of the island experience. Let the pictures speak for themselves.

Come to me, my melancholy Baby

Did you ever have a day where you just feel like you could cry at the drop of a hat? No real reason, just having a "blue" day. Today was one of those. Maybe it was the conversation with my neighbor when she pointed out that I was referring to my mom in the past tense (even though she's still alive)and that maybe I had accepted the fact that I had lost a large part of my mom (due to dementia). I haven't accepted it; it just feels like she's gone. Maybe it was the fact that I am constantly thinking of my dad who passed away 5 months ago, especially today when my son was competing with his tennis team for the State Class B title (my dad loved tennis). Boo hoo, they lost. Or maybe it was the fact that any conversation with my 20 year old always is a struggle to not become adversarial. The simplest comment is always met with defensiveness or even worse, the attitude of "that was simply the stupidest comment ever". I guess at 20, they know all and I know absolutely nothing.
So here I sit at a computer which will let me type out my feelings and not give me a wisecrack remark or tell me to get over it. It will quietly not comment while I pour out my feelings. Maybe I'll even give in and let myself have a good cry. Is that wrong? I don't know. How long is a cry allowed to go on before it's considered wallowing in self-pity? Tomorrow I'll count my blessings, but tonight I'll just hug my box of Kleenex.

Things I Learn from Rock 'n' Roll

For two years now I have taught Sunday School to our high schoolers. It's always a challenge to try to engage them in the material given to me to teach. I do not come into it thinking, "Wow, I'm really going to blow them away this week". I doubt they'll even remember .0001% of what I say.
We recently decided to close out our class for the season (we don't have SS during the summer) with a look at the lyrics of some Christian bands. I'm not always super enthused about some of the "headbanger" stuff, but I was willing to go with it as it was the kids' suggestions and I felt it may reach into their hearts more. At their request we looked at songs from Toby Mac, Switchfoot, Red, TFK and Brandon Heath. My aim was to show them that beyond the music were some biblical principles. Wow, "Death of Me" by Red has some really deep doctrine. We need to let Christ put to death all the old ways of our flesh and allow him to recreate us into His Image. Who knew heavy metal could get at the heart of Christianity. And how about dwelling on and focusing your life on those things that are eternal. We talked about that from "Gone" by Switchfoot. Having the compassion that Christ had for those around Him is a blessed way to go through life. Brandon Heath sang of that in "Give Me Your Eyes". "Bring Me To Life" by TFK speaks of allowing the Holy Spirit to revitalize our lives and free us to live the life He wants for us. Can it get any deeper than that? Just incorporating these few thoughts would revolutionize our lives and our world!
I don't know how much this will impact the teens but I hope when they listen to music now they will think a little about how it fits into what God teaches us. Lyricists choose specific words for a reason; a lot can be learned from this generation's music.