What Doubt is Really About

Have you ever felt left out... or forgotten? Have you ever felt like you didn't quite fit... you know, the whole square peg, round hole thing? Maybe quirky (which really is just a nice word to describe strange and downright weird)? Unrelated to? Awkward?  Have you ever felt insignificant or severely under-appreciated?

I know I have. A lot. Especially lately.

A couple nights ago I was struggling with that very thing: feeling like I didn't belong and had no friends. The feelings begging the question: what is wrong with me? Why don't I fit? My mom happened to be leading our women's Bible study that night. (Side note: My mom is pretty much awesome. I LOVE HER!) She spoke on "Doubting Thomas." I had never in my life heard the story told quite like she told it.

Thomas was one of the 12 disciples. Jesus chose him. He had a place. After Jesus died and rose again, all of the disciples were hanging out and Jesus appeared to them for the first time. Their casual get together became an amazing time with the Lord. He blessed them. He shared with them.

Thomas wasn't there. He didn't get included. The disciples later run up to him and gush about the amazing time they had, how Jesus was there, and how Jesus did and said all these incredible things. Thomas's response was something along the lines of "I won't believe it till I see it." Thomas crosses his arms and his heart defiantly refusing to be apart of the "Jesus is Alive" club that he felt rejected from. When he finally does see Jesus, Jesus calls him out on his doubt. (John 20:19-29)

But here's the thing. Perhaps it is that Thomas didn't doubt that Jesus was the Christ, but rather that he had a place in Christ. Perhaps, he got all upset at being the only one that was left out, that he was ready to throw the whole Jesus-is-the-Christ thing out... all because the disciples forgot to include him. Perhaps he felt like the one disciple that just didn't quite fit, didn't deserve to make the cut, the one always over-looked, under-appreciated and constantly forgotten.

Perhaps Thomas really doubted God's love... that God made him wonderful, unique and with a specific purpose... that God saw him, flaws and all, and loved him.

Perhaps, my nobody-likes-me, what-is-wrong-with-me pity party is really me full of doubt and disbelief. Perhaps I doubt that I have a place. I doubt that God loves me. That He made me like, well, me for a specific reason.

I doubt. And instead of trusting that God loves me and has a plan for my life, I want to throw it away and be like someone else.

I can't believe I missed this! As a teacher and children's pastor, I was a pit bull about each child knowing that God loved them and had a specific plan for their life. I am a pit bull now for the same cause with my children. You want to make me super angry? Try sending a message to children that they are less than because they learn a different way than most kids, or by sending a message that the only way, or the best way to serve God is inside the church in a position of vocational ministry. RAWR! Yep, I will rawr at you. I know that God made each one of us unique. He gave us a different way to process the world. Some we label extroverts, some we label introverts, some we labels ADD, some we label free-spirits, some we label type-A, some we label slow... we have a lot of labels. But regardless of the label, God has a specific plan. He sees the evangelist in the extrovert, the deep-thinker in the introvert, the tireless-doer-of-many-things in the person with ADD, the outside-the-box thinker in the free-spirit, the get-things-done-and-get-others-doing-them-too in the type A... God has a plan! YOU HAVE A PLACE IN GOD.

Amanda. You have a place in God.

You. Just the way you are.

I love Jesus' response to the disciples on the matter (Matthew 28:16-20). Instead of getting on to the disciples and telling them to play nice and play fair ("Boys, you really need to make sure you include Thomas."), He sends out His great commission, "Go into all the world making disciples..." Stop worrying about what people think and whether you fit and how included you are, and go make some disciples. Instead of worrying about who isn't texting you, be the one texting that person who is struggling words of encouragement. Instead of worrying about who hasn't invited you to the play date at the park, grab some people and invite them out yourself. Be a disciple-maker instead of a pity-party thrower.

And as it turns out, when you get busy doing God's work, you find you have a place after all.

He loves you! You have a place in HIM!

Thankful Thursday #3

Yesterday, I embarked upon my last year before I turn 30. For some reason it feels like I just got diagnosed with some illness and have a year to live. I am finding myself wanting to go on bucket-list adventures, my procrastinated attempt to get all my living in before 30. NO AMANDA life does not end at 30!!! I would just like to formally apologize for all my careless encouragement to all the friends who have gone before me in this growing older journey: "29 and feeling fine" and "one year before 30 flirty and thriving," I so don't feel "fine" and definitely not flirty. Oh well, another year. I will eat my words and just be thankful. Another year of life! Thank you God for another year of life: of wildflowers, baby toddles, neck squeezes, back rubs, chocolate, and friendship... LIFE! Another year of it! Hooray!

After all the messes of last week, this week was pretty blah... and I mean that in a really good way!

I am grateful for...

Grandpas and grandkids on front porches,

3 year old conversations with a wise grandpa,

Rusty old farm equipment resting in green grass, 

My dad's love for gardening... and whatever a "hot dog" is... it just simply has to grow into something wonderful with a name like that,

 Easy preschool time on the bathroom mirror and the little girl who can create a person out of shapes,

 Fresh crayons with sharp tips and paper covers still intact,

 peek-a-boo happiness around the high chair,

 and funny scrunchy faces,

the little girl who exclaimed to her dad, "Look at my BU-tiful flower bow, Dad!" "I need to take a picture of it!" Awe! She's trying to create stuff with measuring tape and take pictures of it... she's trying to be like me!

Photo courtesy of Addy.

 and the little girl who has no problem acting silly with me!

AHHH! Sorry if I scared ya! That's a pretty intense face. Sometimes ya just gotta get on the floor with your kids, throw your hair up, bug out your eyes, and yell.

Happy Day to you friends!

Amanda

Dear Mother: You Aren't Perfect

I am participating in a community of bloggers writing Mother Letters. The challenge was to write a letter to any mother: your mother, a specific mother, young mothers, mothers of teenagers, mothers without children, etc... I decided to write to my readers (cuz I love ya!) who are moms. You can check all the letters out here. I had a chance to read some: encouragement abounds! So if you need some, check it out!  If you want to write your own letter, link it up here too!

Dear Mother,

There is NO SUCH THING AS A PERFECT MOM. Sorry, hate to break it to you, but you will never be one.

Deep inside this mother heart, we love our kids... LIKE CRAZY. They may even make us feel a little crazy, cause us to say and do the things we swore "I will never...," and then there's the 9 months of being a human incubator, the contractions, the mortification over even the possibility that you might (gasp!) poop on the birthing table, the sore nipples, the sleepless nights... yeah, I'd continue, but I am pretty sure I already went too far... In spite of the beautiful battle known as motherhood, we love our kids. We LOVE them unconditionally. They grab a hold of our hearts and pull at them in ways we never imagined possible. It seems natural to want to be good at motherhood. Heck, who wouldn't want to be perfect at it? No one wants to "mess up their kids" or "get it wrong."


So we try to get it right. We look to Food Network, mommy blogs, Pinterest for the latest and greatest in ideas for our kitchens and homes. We compare ourselves to our friends, our moms, the woman who lives next door who has never once raised her voice, some random woman out in the blogosphere with great family pictures, creative ideas, and amazing themed birthday parties for her small ones. We live in a cycle of trying out a new routine, adhering to it, and then suddenly life changes and the routine goes out the window, the house is a mess and the kids are staying up too late... so we find a slightly different way of organizing our lives and go through the cycle yet again. We chase perfection. We chase the perfect mom identity. We buy certain clothes, buy certain foods, use certain products. We often feel like we are getting it wrong, not good enough, less than someone else. We chase perfection. And on top of it, we now live in a post Pinterest/mommy-blog society where you simply can't have a wedding/birthday party/home/get together without an amazing theme, unique favors, hand crafted signs, and hand-dyed coffee filter lanterns. (And I am not actually against these things. I think it's all fun, but...) The pressure we live under to achieve "good mom" status is pretty incredible!

Here's just some thoughts (disclaimer: these are just thoughts and certainly not judgments or accusations): I have never quite understood why the SUV got to be so popular. I understand that in some scenarios they are the best vehicle (i.e. family in the mountains...). But I never quite understood what was so bad about a mini-van. I hear people say "I will never drive a mini-van." Why? Because they are ugly? Because they have a reputation for being driven by crazy soccer moms carting their kids all over the town? They are just (typically) two seats and two benches on a car frame. They get decent gas milage. They hold a bunch of kids. The slider doors prevent reckless kids from dinging another person's car when they exit. For the size and number of seating, they are affordable. Am I missing something?

I still remember the commercial from when I was somewhere in the neighborhood of 13 years old. There's a car pool line full of beige mini-vans and a line of kids with baffled faces unable to determine which van belonged to their parents. And then, the ultra sleek SUV comes riding in and a couple of youngsters walk confidently out from amongst their confused peers to their very cool mom's SUV. They know who they are. They know where they belong. They have an identity. They are cool.

Like I said, please don't think I am accusing you of anything because you drive an SUV or want to drive an SUV. I am not. And like I said, I do realize there are reasons and maybe even some I haven't mentioned or realized as to why one would want to drive an SUV. The SUV isn't even really the point. I really don't care about the car. It's the heart of the matter that's important. We all want an identity. And preferably not a frumpy mini-van, crazed soccer mom one. We want to be cool. We want to be a good mom. We want to be enough.

And there it is: the heart of the matter, the reason I mention SUV's. I could be completely wrong here, but I have a feeling one of the reasons the SUV got so popular so fast is because women wanted an identity that said "I am a good mom." I don't drive mini-vans. I drive SUV's! I have an identity! You can't buy an identity that makes you a good mom. You can't craft or cook or crochet or hot glue up a good-mom identity.

Perfection doesn't exist. So if you have ever looked at a woman (or even this woman) and felt that twinge of I will never measure up... KNOCK IT OFF! I think of the "mommy bloggers:" we are our own life's photographers. We hand people snapshots of our lives. We focus in our project, occasionally throwing in a story, thought, or family moment. We often leave parts of our lives blurry so that what we are trying to convey is in focus. We crop our messes and edit our shortcomings. And even if we expose our shortcomings, we at the very least leave out the mundane activities and our constant stream of thoughts. We all do this whether blogger or just chatting it up with a friend over coffee. We highlight our successes and occasionally touch on our failures. We scramble to shove our messes into drawers when we find out we have last minute company. We all hand people photographs of our lives, and a good photographer understands that a good photograph doesn't capture everything... it captures the best things. Photographs don't lie; but they don't tell the entire story. And truthfully, who in the world wants to see me sitting in my frumpy fleece pajama bottoms, feet up, desk disaster, typing in front of a laptop screen?! And most often, my frumpy appearance, among other things, is simply not what I am focusing on as I write. The point? I am human. Crafters are human. Mommy bloggers are human. Pastor's wives, your best friend, your mother-in-law... all human. There is no super woman, no perfection... just a bunch of moms who are doing their little bit and giving you a cropped snapshot of it.

So, be you. Do what you love to do (and the things you need to do too, ahem, the dishes). And dang it woman, STOP COMPARING YOURSELF!

Photo courtesy of my 3 year old. In case you really do have some need to see me getting my frump on in the morning whilst I blog. And by the way, it took everything inside me not to crop out the mess, and I do confess I threw Picasa's "lomo" effect over it in an attempt to hide the mess at the bottom and sides of the picture. I am trying to be as real as possible!

Stop looking at what other women do, and thinking to yourself if I could just be like that, do that, learn that... I could be enough. If I could just use a drill, sew a dress, make a homemade bow tie, knit a sweater, have cool organizational boxes with cute labels on them, bake muffins, cloth diaper, I could be a good mom.

WRONG! So wrong!

It doesn't matter whether your home is decorated in the trendiest grays and yellows with pops of coral and blue or your home is hand-me-down-couch beige and I-live-in-a-rental semi-gloss white. It doesn't matter if your pillows are chevron-patterned and accented with fabric roses or your pillows spend too much time in your kids forts or on the floor for anyone to know you have them or, heck, you might not even have any. It doesn't matter whether you buy your kids clothes from boutiques or whip them up pillow-case dresses or whether you walmart-$3.88-rack their wardrobes (you like how I just made that a verb?!). I could go on, but I think you get the point.

That whole Good-Mom thing... comes from the heart. It comes from trust. It comes from faith. "And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of those who seek Him" (Hebrews 11:6). You aren't enough. But God is. And you can't please God by thinking that you COULD be enough. You please Him when you trust Him. And, You CAN trust Him--with your heart and with your kids' hearts. You can trust that He can take your shortcomings and the shortcomings of your children and cover them in His grace and use them for Glory. "God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose" (Romans 8:28) The whole Good-Mom thing comes from trusting God, from Grace, from time invested, attention given, and LOVE. Definitely LOVE.

And that's it.

Christianity is summed up in two commandments: Love God and Love others. So is parenting.

Love God. Love your family.

Love them how YOU love best. YOUR talents, YOUR gifts, and YOUR affection poured out all over your family.

And yep. YOU. You are enough.

Minivan or SUV. Frumpy or put together. Neat freak and ducks-in-a-row or free-spirit soaring through the mess. Anthropology or Walmart. Crafter or mess-maker. Culinary skills or fire alarm skills.

You are enough.

Here's to YOU mom!

Happy Mother's Day!

Love,
Amanda



Side note:
Just in case it wasn't clear: I do projects because I enjoy them. I put them up on the blogosphere because I like to share, because I truly believe if you want to learn to sew or craft or cook YOU CAN, and because I love the opportunity to do just what this post hopefully did... give you the message of encouragement, peace and hope that YOU ARE ENOUGH... project-maker or not. Your worth is far above rubies and pearls... and your worth is far above your ability to cook, sew, or craft (in fact those things aren't even in the equation). You are unique, one-of-a-kind, and you can be a conquering housewife by simply trusting God... and, REALLY, it takes NOTHING else.

Thankful Thurday #2

This week...

was a little harder to find the gifts God has for me. I took off on a Beauty hunt (i.e. car ride and then because that didn't quite improve the anger/yelling I kept feeling rising up in this tired housewife, I took a walk as well). I had plenty of chances to find joy in messes... because, well, my home is a mess and my kids have been great mess-makers (in a serious way) this week!

Needless to say I have lots of pictures... because this girl had a lot of things that she needed to be thankful through!

The gift of Thistle, delicate flower seeking the sunlight's grace amongst it's many thorns.

The gift of exotic flowers flowers, reaching above the trellis, seeking open air and opening full in the sun.

 The gift of an empty chair parked next to the sidewalk, determination to be a friendly neighbor.

The gift of convenience and ingenious ideas that make a mom's life a little easier.

The gift of eyes like watery jewels complemented by rosy cheeks and painted pink nails (also love the little bit of yogurt still on the corner of her mouth... one can only be so dainty).

The gift of carpet warmed by the sun and the little boy playing with his ball on it.

The gift of orange juice: room temperature, fresh squeezed, and full of pulp.

The gift of being needed... the two chubby little hands that cling to my pants legs... he needs me, wants me... to be able to walk. How soon this will change!

The gift of an army-crawling, little man on a mission. Covert operations from a double-wide diaper butt.

The gift of my own little, curious, fairy-dust dumper. (She found the baby powder, got curious, and sprinkled dumped it everywhere.)

The gift of a big glumps of pink, princess, sparkle toothpaste left on the counter... evidence of a big-little girl who likes to brush her teeth (and so glad she actually likes brushing her teeth)

The gift of speedy little boys who keep mom's heart rate up. (I strapped him in for diaper change, changed the diaper, realized I had forgotten the onesie, ran to grab it from the dryer--not far at all--and returned a few seconds later to find him happily out of the strap, standing up, and playing with the little light on the wall. Thank you Lord for keeping him from falling! And in case you are wondering, no, I did not leave him like this to grab my camera!)

The gift of the little mess maker peeking out from the long line of toys he's been busy playing with.

Anyone else have to figure out how to give God thanks in their messes this week??


Wishing you wonderful weekends!
xo

Responsibilities

The toy bin has been tipped over, it's contents spread across the floor. Dishes pile in the sink. A lone fly has managed to make it's way into our house, buzzing ferociously. I hear the sound of coils creaking under foot. Addy is on the recliner, singing out her abc's to the world, jumping. Jumping for the 10th time in one day. Jumping after being told not to 9 times.
I walk by Jed. His chubby little hands grab a hold of my pant leg. He pulls himself up. He's crying. I change his diaper. Nurse him.

The Mister comes home. He tells me I look good. Then asks what's for dinner and if his clothes are ironed. I roll my eyes, tell him I don't know, and I haven't had time. I'll figure it out. I'll get to it.


Breakfast, bills, baby, breast-feeding, laundry, dishes, "Mom, wipe my butt, please!"

Lunch, phone call, folding, washing, eating, feeding, nap, "Addy, please don't pick up you brother!"

Groceries, girl-time, library, park, project, crayons, church, "Mom, where are we going?"  

Teaching, training, Windex, Pinesol, broom, vacuum, dinner, "How many times have I said don't do that?!"

Baths, bedtime, snuggles, hugs, making love, "I'm not mad. I am just so tired."


Responsibility.

Piled high and a list that reaches the sky.

I live tired. Feeling the weight of the endless list. Wishing for just one moment to be out from under it.

"My yoke is easy and my burden is light."-Jesus
"How does that work exactly???"-Me

I had one of those "light-bulb" "Ah-Ha!" moments. I am pretty sure I read it somewhere (and being that I have been so into Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts, I am 99% sure it came from there. I can't find it though, and it's bugging me... if you know where it is, please, help a girl out!).  I saw the word responsibilities broken apart as response-abilities. It was one of those things that I just wasn't able to shake. It haunted me. Driving, cleaning, writing... it kept going through my mind. My response abilities. My response abilities.

And what does that mean?

Response Abilities.

The ways I am able to respond.

My responsibilities are my response-abilities.

It's a simple idea. A simple change in perspective. It's the realizing that I am loved: vastly, immeasurably, and incomprehensibly.
"For God so loved [Amanda]..." John 3:16
"That [Amanda] would be able to comprehend... what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the Love of Christ which surpasses knowledge..." Ephesians 3:18-19
"That nothing is able to separate [Amanda] from the love of God..." Romans 8:38-39

It's this Great Gift Search I have been on--seeking out all the ways God has lavished on me, seeking this thing called Beauty, and finding it everywhere.
The cowlick crowning my son all-boy... respond.
The full and contagious laugh of my daughter... respond.
The strong and sure jawline of my husband covered in fresh stubble... respond
The rain that adorns the trees in crystal beads right outside the window of my home... respond

I have been given so many responsibilities, response-abilities. My kids. My husband. My family. My friends. My home. The homeless guy on the corner. The children's church classroom. I am able to love God back. I am able to respond.

So does the perspective change anything? Do I have still work to do? Yes. Do I still need to do it? Yes. But God LOVES me. Overwhelmingly and Fully. I have been given SO much... and not so much TO DO, but given so many ways that God has shown His Love for me. And do I not love being told time and again by my husband how much he loves me? And do I not love receiving little gifts as reminders of his love? God does that for me! But I only receive the gifts when I stop and receive them.

I have to slow down, chill out, stop with MY LIST and commune with God. Find His gifts. Thanksgiving. And then, I can go about loving God back. I can respond.
 
"For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, 'Abba! Father!'" (Romans 8:15).


I am a child of God. Not a slave. I don't live in fear of not getting my list done. I don't have to live tired.

I am loved as God's own precious child.


In the communion, the slowing down and finding the things I have to be thankful for, I find joy in my to-do list. In fact, they cease to be "to-do's" but rather, "I am able's!" Jed, Addy and Handsome are no longer referred to as the vacuums that suck me dry of energy, they are my gifts. I can't help but love them, be patient with them, and smother them all in kisses. I am not empty. I am full of His love. I am able to give.

And God loves a cheerful giver.

I am able to respond.


I love you back, God!

Good Morning! Good Breakfast!: Baked Steel Cut Oats

Today I wanted to share something from the kitchen. This recipe has SO improved our mornings, especially my husband's. He is in an intense schooling program, that is both physically and mentally exhausting. He works full-time and is in school full-time. While breakfast might be the most important meal of the day, he simply doesn't have the time to have a decent one...

Until...

I discovered steel cut oats. (Yep. I said steel cut oats. Keep reading if you want to see how he has time for them in the morning.) They are healthy. They are high in fiber. They are minimally processed. They are a low-glycemic food (which means it takes the body a long time to absorb them, making you feel fuller longer, and giving you energy for longer). They are packed with carbohydrates to jumpstart a morning. They are chewy. (I know, the last item on my list of nutritional benefits doesn't seem to fit. But I do like things to taste good. And the chewier the oatmeal, the better... at least in my mouth).

By the way: feeling any weight from all those crunchy granola, steel-cut-oat women turning their nose up at you, the instant-oat woman. No need to! Steel cut oats are only slightly better for you. Really for me, it comes down to a flavor/texture preference and ... alright, a strange, crunchy-granola tendency to avoid over processed foods. But don't feel bad if you choose to stick to old-fashioned oats, the only extra process is rolling and steaming (and extra cutting if they are instant.) Oats--steel-cut, old fashioned or instant--are ALL so good for you! 

I have always had a thing for baked oatmeal. It's THE BEST way to have oatmeal. YUM-O! I found this recipe and adapted it to suit my family. Baked Oatmeal is SO tasty. I make it on Friday (our closest thing to a weekend at the moment) and serve it up with some eggs, bacon and fresh squeezed OJ. I package up all the leftovers and our little family has 4 days of leftover oatmeal squares that are super easy to reheat and take on the go... just in time for Michael's physically intense weekend.

Baked Steel Cut Oats. (Link will be provided at end of this post as well.)
And bonus for mommies with little ones: Baby Cereal Bars

1: Soak oatmeal overnight in water with tablespoon of plain yogurt, buttermilk, or kefir. This is not absolutely necessary, it's just a really good idea. Grains contains phytic acid, which prevent you from being able to absorb all of the grain's nutrition. Phytic acid also make grains harder to digest. I even read that soaking grains can help a person with a mild gluten allergy be able to eat some different types of grains.Yogurt, buttermilk and kefir all have natural enzymes that neutralize the phytic acid.

2. Drain oats in mesh collander. There is no need to rinse, just get rid of extra water. Put back in bowl.
3. Chop some nuts. I got almonds and pecans going in my concoction... mostly because that's what was available in my stash. (anyone else say AHH-monds and PEE-cans like I do???)

 3. Whisk it, and whisk it good. Whisk together the eggs, milk and maple syrup until nice and frothy. (This made me feel out of shape... my arm kept needing breaks... and by the way it takes less than 2 minutes to get to frothy... yeah, you really need to start working out again, Amanda.) If you can't afford maple syrup or don't feel like going to the store to get it, substitute brown sugar instead... same amount. Though I will say, everyone should make a way for maple syrup every now and again. It's GOOD :)

4. Add egg mixture to oats along with fruit. I have some blueberries and raspberries in this one from my frozen fruits stash. Add cinnamon and canola oil. You could add nuts here too (unless you are making baby cereal bars too), but I just sprinkle mine on top. (They get toasty this way... yummy)
Tip: I always keep at least a bag of frozen blueberries in the freezer. Fruit is a healthy way to make a last minute dessert on the fly without adding too much sugar. Frozen fruit keeps for a really long time in the freezer, and its great to have a last minute dessert/sweetener on hand (pancakes, crepes, crisps... oh my!) Also, if fruit is on special and in season, I buy extra of it, rinse it, and store it in the freezer in freezer bags. Money saved. Happy tummies. Win!

 5. (Optional.) I have a little guy (10 months today!) who will eat just about anything (yep. broccoli, peas, carrots...) so long as he gets to be the one who puts it in his mouth. This has made me have to be creative in how I feed him. Since this has little sugar in it and is minimally processed, I decided to make him his own batch of cereal bars. I just pulled out a little bit, put it in the food processor (to make it easier to eat... he doesn't have many teeth to handle the chewy oats), didn't include the nuts, and put in a little mini bake dish. (Do double check with your baby's pediatrician if you have concerns about whether your baby can have this... My baby can, but all babies are different, the allergen advice keeps changing, and I am no doctor)

 6. Place mixture in oiled pans. Sprinkle nuts on top. Bake in a 375 preheated oven for 20-40 minutes. It's done when a toothpick comes out clean. It's easy to tell when it's done: it will not have any liquid left. I used a 8x8, a 9x9 and a 3" circle (my little circle was done in 20 minutes and my two pans in 30 min. When I made this all in one pan and it was thick, it took 40 min). Side note: I am missing my big pan and have been for years now... I should probably get a new one. Ha!

 Hmmm... Hearty, Healthy, Wholesome, Hungry (alliterations for this creation... I know, I am a nerd)

Serve warm with eggs on a Saturday morning. Important: Drizzle oatmeal with maple syrup or a homemade fruit syrup like this one.)

 Big man approved. Little man approved too.

 For easy breakfast throughout the week: place each square on a piece of foil.

7. Wrap up. Store in fridge. Early each morning, pull out, unwrap (leaving it on the foil), place in toaster oven for 5ish minutes while you are finishing up getting ready for your day, wrap back up in foil, take with you, and eat on the go. So easy! Even my husband can do it! HA!
And in case you are unfamiliar with this math fact: toaster oven > microwave  :)

Husband LOVES his healthy, home-cooked breakfast each morning. I like not having to get up to make it for him.

Baked Steel Cut Oats Recipe

Open Recipe in Google Document for easy printing (Just click link):
Baked Steel Cut Oats

Ingredients:
3 cups Steel Cut Oats
1 TBS plain yogurt, buttermilk, or kefir
½ cup chopped nuts
3 eggs   
1 cup of milk                       
½ cup dried fruit or 1 cup of fresh or frozen fruit
1 TBS cinnamon
2 TBS canola oil
2 TBS maple syrup

Steps:

1. Soak oats overnight. Place oats in large bowl, fill with water till water is an inch over the oats, place a generous tablespoon of plain yogurt in bowl.
2. Preheat oven to 375. Grease pans.
3. Drain oats in colander and place back in bowl.
4. In a separate bowl, whisk together eggs, milk and maple syrup until frothy.
5. Add egg mixture to oats along with fruit, nuts, cinnamon, and oil. Fold until combined.
6. Pour into pans.
7. Bake for 20-40 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean or oatmeal has no liquid on top.
8. Serve with maple syrup. 

  

Baby Oatmeal Bars: 

Prepare just like above, except omit nuts, and place in food processor before putting into baking dish. 

Oatmeal Bars on the go: 

Prepare as above. Cut into individual servings and store each serving wrapped in foil in the fridge. Unwrap and place in 375 toaster oven for 5 minutes before eating (or eat cold).


Some yummy variations:
blueberries and raspberries
can of peaches, drained and cut, and blueberries. Omit cinnamon. Add tsp of vanilla
Sprinkle toasted wheat germ on the top for some nutty nutrition
dried apricots and dried cranberries as Nourishedkitchen.com suggests
your imagination: keep the oats, milk, egg and oil ratios the same and play around with the fruit, seasoning/flavoring, sweetener and nut combinations :)


Hope your Monday is Made!
xo

Amanda

Thankful Thursday #1

Welcome to the very first Thankful Thursday posting ever!

This is a challenge to myself after reading One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. If you have been on my site recently, you've probably noticed... the truth found in that book has changed my life! I can't help but continuously refer back to it. Do check it out! Or if you want to check into some of the truths found in the book right now, check out Ann Voskamp's blog.

More than a list, more than a task to do, more than the next latest and greatest thing in the Christian world... this girl wants to live a full life. This girl wants to have Joy. This girl has found herself feeling exhausted, completely spent, grumpy, and yelling. I so don't want to be that sort of wife or mom. I know that supposedly Christ died so that I might "have life, and life abundantly." But I so am not feeling the abundance.

So, I am stopping throughout my days. Watching. Paying attention. Finding the gifts that God gives, the beauty I am surrounded with, the fleeting preciousness in my small ones. I have started an ongoing conversation with God that is full of gratitude and wonder in stead of "I want.. I need..."

It is changing my life. Slowing me down. When I feel stress build in me and I begin to yell over the dumbest of things, I stop and I look.

Where are you God in this moment?

And I always find Him too.

I caught the truth of this Great Gift Search one night while driving to my in-laws. I was running late. It had been a long day. Jed was especially fussy. Addy was especially obnoxious. I was stressed. And then I saw it. The faintest, tiniest hint of a rainbow just barely peeking it's head out from under the cover of the horizon. I decided to consciously thank God for it. I told Addy about it, but she couldn't see it. So I did something I never do, least of all when I have somewhere I have to be. I stopped. I got Addy out of the car. We looked at the rainbow on the side of that country road. She couldn't spot it, so I grabbed my phone to take a picture of it so I could point out the rainbow right there on the screen. We out loud thanked God for rainbows. I can't put it into words but something in me changed at that moment. Gratitude entered my stress-riden heart. It took worry, disbelief, selfishness, pride, anger off of the saddle and put God back over my heart. Peace and Joy--the beautiful fruit of a life lived trusting God. And Addy still talks about that tiny rainbow that never made it across the sky. Addy found God in that moment too.

It might sound strange, but I have found an overwhelming joy in grabbing my camera and trying to capture Beauty with it. I am not a great photographer. I know very little about what makes a good picture and even less about how to take one. I have a great family camera (Canon Power Shot SX120IS if you are curious), but it is by no means a "professional" camera. This blogging wordsmith could totally grab a pen and paper and write down her gratitude in a journal, but for whatever reason, attempting to angle a shot, pushing the zoom button, adjusting the ISO and shutter speed, is fun, soothing, and gives me Joy. It makes me step outside, step away from dishes, pull over the car, pause and worship with... a camera. Strange. No out-stretched arms or music involved.

But it is worship. And no, not of things, not of the created, but of the Creator. I see Him. I commune with Him. And He feels my tired mother-heart with strength.

I feel like Moses looking up and catching a glimpse of God's walking by. I am a poet-painter and as close as I can get to beholding God, grasping Him in a picture.

When I sit down to edit the pictures, Addy loves to crawl up in my lap and have me explain each picture. Even her 3-year-old heart is hungry for Beauty, hungry to know God. I have loved the chance to tell her about Him.

So, there you have it.

Thankful Thursday.

My chance to stop and frame a glorious God-given moment. (They may not always be pretty for I want to see God in the hard moments too.)

My challenge to allow God to change me. To live a full life.

Here and now.

The gift of a setting sun setting a rain-drenched pine on fire.

The gift raindrops on trees, crystal adornments, garlanding a tree in royal splendor.

The gift of a gnarled tree against a silhouetted Mt. Diablo.

The gift of the sound of a thousand honking geese flying home in the warming weather... and not feeling a drop of poo. (If you read this post you would know why I am thankful for this, lol) (This is just one of at least 30 formations that flew overhead at one time... amazing!)

The gift of that handsome cowlick in the warm sunshine and enough hair to spike it up. (By the way, as a warning this cowlick could be a reoccurring theme. I don't know what it is about a cowlick on a little boy, but I just adore it. Ever time I notice it, I can't help but smother that face in mommy-kisses.)

The gift of already, all-boy mischief at almost 10 months. How quickly he was able to army crawl his way into the bathroom and begin throwing items into the toilet! I wish I could have captured the look on his face when I found him... mischievous, boyish grin. (By the way, just in choosing to see this moment as a gift, it melted the really-now-I-get-to-fish-stuff-out-of-the-toilet-on-top-of-everthing-else-I-have-done moment I could have had. It brought me Joy instead of stress... Peace rather than frustration... all because I was thankful for it.)


Thanks for stopping by Thankful Thursday. If you are doing something similar or want to do something similar (on a blog, putting pictures in a folder on facebook or just writing something down in a journal, do tell me about it in the comments or on my facebook timeline. I would love to be connected with some other people on this life-changing journey)

xo