On Chewing Gum & Trust



I offered him a piece of gum.

It’s my intentional way of starting a conversation on a plane. I sorta stink at small talk.

I told him, “I am a firm believer in gum during take-off and landing.” He chuckled. I added, “And seriously, if you want or need more, just ask. I’d be happy to share.”

He smiled, acknowledging my offer.

We begin to share little bits of our life. He's retired with a long list of really cool hobbies like photography and brewing his own beer. I tell him how I write and have two kids and a husband I can’t wait to get home to. We talk about my husband and where his job may take him. We talk about faith and Christianity, of the problem of “putting people in boxes” and failing to really love them. He told me of his friend’s journey to find a denomination where he felt free to worship.

After a few minutes of small talk that was actually really big talk (I told you I stink at small talk), we rested. I wrote; he read. I journaled; he napped.

Two hours into the flight, we hit some turbulence and the plane ascended (or descended I am not really sure) without warning. My ears felt the change in altitude.

I looked to the seat next to me where my new friend is pulling out a familiar wrapper and taking out half a piece of gum and placing it in his mouth.

I sit stunned. He kept back half of a piece of gum from the gum I freely gave him… from which I had plenty and would have gladly given him more.

He didn’t want to ask for more. He didn’t take me at my word that I would give him more. He wanted to be in control.

{Which, by the way, I do realize I was two notches up from a perfect stranger, and, who knows, I could have been sleeping when he needed gum again. That part is really not the point.}

I wanted to tell him, you could have had more gum if you had but asked. 

2, 3, 4 pieces and you settled for two mediocre gum-chewing experiences because either you didn’t take me at my word or you didn’t want to ask?

And I wondered… do I ever do that with God?

Do I ever stop short of giving my all because I don’t want to run out—of money, of time, of strength? Do I lack because I just simply do not want to take the time to commune with God and ask for what I have need of? Do I attempt to be in control of my life rather than trusting God and His promises? Do I choose to ration the little bit I have rather than living expecting God to make good on His promises?

Do I stop short of fully living for God because I don’t really trust Him?

The verse that’s been on my heart:
And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day: And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not” (Isaiah 58:10-11).

Pour out and you will be filled.

I think of the Israelites in the wilderness and the mystery of the manna. Sweet little wafers on the ground each morning—God’s provision. Don’t go out and collect it in the morning and go hungry. Hold back too much in case God doesn’t provide it the next day and it spoils (Worms! Gross!). Don’t set back extra on Friday for the Sabbath Rest and go hungry that day. 

Trust. But not just trust. Obedience too. And I think perhaps trust and obedience go hand in hand.

Trust God with each and every gift.
Seek His Daily provision.
Draw out from myself to those in need.
Obey God’s leading.
God WILL daily provide.
What God gives, He means to be used.
And do set aside for intentional rest.

Hmmm… I am thinking on this. I want to see God continue to move through this woman like He did in Pennsylvania. I know He shook me up and I can’t go back to being the same. And I know I want to hold back even now because of fear. I see all kinds of shortcomings in myself… failing to seek His daily provision by spending time in prayer and His Word daily, failing to obey His voice, failing to pour out because I am afraid I won’t have anything left, failing to take intentional rest. I want to trust and obey.

Care to think on this with me?? I would love you to chime in with your thoughts. :)


By Grace,

Amanda
 

Because Sometimes I'm Just a Big Sissy-La-La Girl





I thought I was starting to get the rhythm of this whole walking with God, day by day. Listening for His voice.

It is not easy.

Thing is, I grow weary so fast. I am one big sissy-la-la girl when it comes to trials. And change? Yeah, I kind of hate it… especially when I have no control over it. I think it is safe to admit that right now I am in the midst of a little freak-out. Trials and Change.

I think of the Hebrews—Jesus-loving Jews. Hated by Romans. Hated by Jews. Persecuted on all sides. The book of Hebrews talks about how they were persecuted, endured great trials, and did it with rejoicing.  They went through imprisonments, living day to day for provision, mockery… but their rejoicing only lasted so long. When more trials came their way, they began to waver and complain. Hebrews 10:36 points out what they were lacking:

“For you have need of endurance.”

This is the verse that is currently staring at me—gently tapping me on the shoulder. This verse is the two hands firmly cupping my cheeks during my little freak-out looking me square in the eye and telling me to focus. Perhaps, this is terrible to admit, but I kind of want to tell my Bible to shut up. I don’t want endurance. I don’t want to suffer. Rejoice in trials?! Pass!

“For you have need of endurance.”

Do I? Do I really need it, God?

{insert deep sigh}

“For you have need of endurance, SO THAT when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised… BUT we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul” (Hebrews 10:36,39).

We—followers of Christ, lovers of God—We are of those who left their country for one yet unknown because God said so, who stared lions in the face because we would rather please God than a king, who built a huge boat for something strange and yet to be seen (rain), who chose to be counted with suffering people rather than enjoy the pleasures of Pharaoh’s court, who circled a city for seven days and believed walking by faith and praising God could give them the victory.

We are not of those who shrink back.

And yet, don’t we?! Shrink back?

I see the hint of a trial and I want to grab my big comforter and a hide under it. I imagine the worst. I get angry. I stop rejoicing. I stop walking by faith because there is no way I am taking another step without know where I am going. I want to solve the problem. I want to know the outcome. I lose sleep. I lose energy. I fail to trust.

I want all the pieces to the puzzle so that I can put it all together. It’s as though deep down I am thinking, Thanks God for the mess you made of my life—I got it from here, thanks. 

 Oh, Amanda!

You have need of endurance!

And doesn’t slow and steady win the race?

So, I am slowing. Doing what doesn’t come natural… I am leaning in close to God. Instead of praying up a storm things like: Do this! Do that! And now, God! I am **trying** to be still. To know that He is God--Faithful--Sovereign. I am listening. Opening my hands to the things I am clinging to, that maybe He wants me to trust Him with.

I am learning that I do not need to know it all now. God provides what I need for each day. And the next day? Well, He’ll provide for that then.

I am walking one step at a time in the direction God is leading me, even if I don’t know the outcome, and even if I don’t particularly like the uncertainty of where I am currently at. I am remembering that a soldier doesn’t change their direction until the Sergeant changes their marches orders.

It’s time to stop the emotional and reactionary freak out when I smell a trial or a change coming. It’s time to lean in close to Jesus. It’s time to learn endurance.


And, perhaps, endurance is found not so much by pressing harder when it gets tough... but by pressing into the gentle arms of One Very Tough Dude--the Savior who endured and endured and endured for us.

How do you handle trials and change? Do you need endurance? Maybe we can pray for one another?


By Grace,
Amanda

10 Takeaways from Allume and 1 Big Highlight

So, I wanted to reflect on Allume, the writing/blogging conference I got to attend in Harrisburg, PA.

Can I start by saying Harrisburg is a beautiful city?!


Hills and trees and old churches and brownstones and white farmhouses… beautiful! Fall and all its glory were in full effect when we arrived. I got to see the East Coast dressed for Fall! (Yay!) My travel buddy, Allume roomie, new friend and definitely a kindred spirit went exploring with me on foot before the conference started.



I was pretty excited to be in the capitol city right next to the capitol building. (We got some crazy looks when we asked if it was the capitol building. Um... what else would it be?? Yeah. Okay. I guess it's a little obvious.)



10 Takeaways from Allume:

  1. Real life friends don’t learn anything new from my blog.” <--that was from Annie Downs session. I need to treasure my real life family and friends more even if it means waiting a week to post something.
  2. I not just a little introverted... I am super introverted. At a conference that was all about networking and meeting new friends, I discovered that I am not actually shy and can be quite loud. But I also discovered that I wear out quickly and require large quantities of re-charge time (by myself—just me, God, my Bible, and my journal). By the last day of the conference, I sat by myself and let other people sit next to me and start conversations. I just didn’t have any small talk left in me. Perhaps it makes me lame, but I seriously met some of the neatest people that way. (Big shout out to those willing to sit by the quiet loner and start conversations with her!)
  3. "Where you feel like you don’t fit, where you are the most uncomfortable… that’s your writing voice. “ <-- Denise Eide’s workshop. (Pssst… if you have children learning to read or struggle with reading or if you’ve ever wanted to understand things like why we have a silent “e”, check out her book Logic of English.) There are some places where I have been hurt, where I so haven’t wanted to write… but I can sense God calling me there. This blog might just get a little more controversial… but I think that’s a good thing. How do we bridge gaps, if there is no one willing to stand in the uncomfortable places??
  4. I am a jelly fish! <--from Phil Vischer’s talk (the creator of Veggie Tales). He shared his testimony and how jelly fish can float around, swim up or down but the only way they go anywhere is when they get in the current. Stop trying to go places, Amanda, and just simply get in God's current and let Him take you where He will.
  5. "Your Impact: The size of the heart of God for your audience.” <--Kat Lee. God loves YOU so Big! And He is the One that makes the impact. If I can just touch but a piece of the passion God has for who God wants me writing to, God can impact the world!
  6. Writing benefits my family. <--from TriciaGoyer’s talk. She listed off so many positive ways me being a writer can benefit my family. She talked about structuring our days better so that writing can be a positive thing for my family. I was struggling with mom-guilt over the way writing kept creeping into my life (or more like the social media side of blogging). Tricia gave some great tips on how to structure one’s day and made me realize being a writer is a gift that can bless my family.
  7. My Small is Big Enough <--Darren Rowse and this theme carried through many other speakers like Trina Holden. I don't need to be big for God to use me. Just love Him. Love His. And be listening and obedient to His voice. 
  8. Why would God give you a map, when He has given you Himself?” <-- Ann Voskamp “God didn’t give Abraham a map, he gave him a RELATIONSHIP.” “A calling listens to the One Who calls.” “God’s calling isn’t that you would do more FOR him, but that you would do more WITH Him.” “Lean in close to God’s Word and listen”<-- SOOO many great takeaways from AnnVoskamp’s talk. If you have 55 minutes, this is a great way to spend them! (All the other key-notes are here too).
  9. The gift of community. I got to meet some AMAZING women at this conference. And what made each woman amazing wasn’t the size of their readership, their niche, their denomination, their age, their number or age of children, their relationship status, their experience… it was the love of Jesus and a heart of compassion. This conference had everyone from whole-food-loving Catholics, green charismatics, faith-writing fundamentalists and mommy-encouraging Methodists… and the differences between us all just didn't matter. It only added to the beauty of a diverse community of women. I loved it!!
  10. The heart-felt talks I got to have with these women: Jacqui, Melanie, Becky, Jesenia, Nellie, Karen, Anna, Sarah, Karis. (and I know I missed a few). Dear kindred spirits. Instant new best friends. And seriously if you get tired of reading my stuff or want to add more to your reading list… their blogs! What a treasure these women are!



One SUPER big highlight:



Yep. I got to hug Ann Voskamp. Author of the book, 1000 Gifts—the book that totally changed the way I view my relationship with God and how I worship Him. Of course, as you may also notice from my red face, I fell apart when I met her (lots of tears people!). I got to tell her my very cool story I told you about yesterday, told her how wrecked I felt, and she so encouraged me.

Melanie, Nellie, Jacqui and Me in the Smilebooth. LOVE these dear sisters!!


I definitely have more un-packing to do (like mental and spiritual content from the conference... I did get all my clothes cleaned and put away... for the most part! Ha!) I am so SO thankful God opened the door for me to go. A seriously BIG thank you to Granma and Gramps for sponsoring my trip, my mom and sister who helped with my munchkins, my husband's support and belief in me, Jacqui for being willing to travel with this non-flyer and terrible decipherer of PA signs, the beautiful Allume team that worked to lavish on us and make the conference incredible, and all the prayers and support I got from all of you!

T H A N K  Y O U ! ! !

By Grace,
Amanda

PS-yesterday my comment moderator bugged on me yet again (on the Wrecked. post). I had responded to all of the comments, but I have no idea if you got my responses. Do know I am working on fixing this (and it may take a while because I am technologically clueless), I did not delete your comment on purpose, and I cherished each one of your sweet words! I am sorry and a big thank you for your grace. I suppose it's good to be kept humble and in need of grace. ha! xo


Wrecked. {Alternately Titled: How a White Suburban Housewife Leads an African Man to Christ}



Downtown Harrisburg, PA. I was visiting this city for the Allume conference... the conference that God decided to use this girl in an unexpected way and forever change her.


God asked me to go to a pub. I had first seen it the night my friend and I pulled into town for the writing and blogging conference we were going to attend. The pub was in a brick building complete with an Irish name and a few bearded hipsters sitting out front. Two nights later, I felt this strong prompting to go. The thing is, I have never once stepped foot into a bar. I argued with God. I tried waiting for this strange knowing to just go away. God I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a bar. Do I just sit down? Are there servers? Do I order at the bar? What if it’s crowded? What if I get hit on? God? Really?! The pub?! I am at a Christian blogging conference and there’s fundamentalists here and what if they see me? God didn’t answer my stream of questions and excuses. I just knew I had to go.

So I did. I walked towards the unknown, and as I approached the pub the feeling lifted and I knew I had gone as far as God needed me to go. So I turned around and walked towards a promising bench to put pen to paper. As I walked, I smiled. By chance, one young man smiled back so I said “Hi.”

As I sat on the bench, I penned these words:
God, I don’t want to be where it’s safe. Okay, maybe I do, but really, I sense the weight of the way You love people—the way life is so messy—and the mystery of the way You make it beautiful. I don’t want to crave the affection or admiration or recognition of other Christians. I have the Hope of the world, they have the hope of the world, and You see ME! (Wow!) You see me in a room full of people I think are incredible. You see me and I can bear Your Glory, the Hope of the world, in this beat-up, messed-up vessel and You can mysteriously let me shine… I don’t need them all to know my name to change the world with the gospel (and I couldn’t change the world anyways—that’s an only-God thing).

Perhaps, five or ten minutes went by when someone sat down on the bench I was occupying.
It was the young man to whom I had said hi, whose path I would have never crossed had I not walked towards a pub and turned around.  Immediately, I worried he thought I was hitting on him with my “hi.”

“Oh,” I said wide-eyed and big, “I need you to know, I am married. I didn’t say hi for any reason other than to be nice.”

He repeated back, “You are married?”

And I heard it. A familiar accent with soft R’s and heavy D’s. “Where are you from? I know that accent.”

“The Ivory Coast.” (Which he had to repeat for me 3 times before I could understand.) His skin was dark-chocolate, his nose was wide and his eyes were dark, but his gaze was soft and full of youth. I relayed my little bit of connection to the Ivory Coast.

And then I knew. I sensed the stirring of the Spirit. I needed to put Jesus in this conversation.

“Um…” I paused to work up my nerve. “Do you know Jesus?”

He looked a little puzzled. “No.”

“Would you like to know about Him?” I braced myself for the impending rejection.

“Yes. I think I would.”

I was shocked. How did that work? I took the longest thirty seconds to collect my thoughts.

I told him of my battle with depression and anxiety attacks, of cutting on myself and how God rushed in and set me free. I told him of Jesus’ death and resurrection. I told him of how we can try so hard in this life to make something happen, and somehow when we stop striving so hard for our own way—when we open our life to God and allow Him to be in control—somehow we have a joy and a peace that cannot swayed by circumstance. I told him of sin and the shame we carry when we do what we know to be wrong. I told him of God’s forgiveness.

I was jumbled. I spoke like a California Valley Girl. My words were full of like, totally, um, seriously, and ya know. I reached a point when I knew it was time. I asked, “Would you like to know Jesus?”

And the seven words that forever changed both our lives: “I think so. What do I do?”

I told him what to do. About the little step of faith. How the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but it’s the power of salvation for those who believe (1 Cor. 1:18). How when you put even a little faith in God, He meets you right where you are and proves Himself to you.

We prayed a simple repeat-after-me kind of prayer on a city bench. Hundreds must have passed by seeking to fill their emptiness with alcohol and women…while one man allowed Christ to invade his life.

I gave him my Bible, put him in the book of John and told him how precious my Bible was to me. I told him that I really wanted him to have it, but he wasn’t allowed to take it if he was just going to throw it on a shelf and never look at it. I thought of all my precious notes scribbled in the margins—God’s words to me. How the Bread of Life had nourished me and spoke to me and how I was breaking off this precious gift—Word of Life—and it could now nourish him. The Word is life and sustenance whether you are a white woman or West African man. I gave him my card and told him to email me when he found a church.

I left and went to the prayer room at the conference. I sat down and wept—like boo-hoo cried, like snot running down my face, like can’t keep the sobs quiet kind of weeping.

How did that work? It shouldn’t have worked.

In what world does a white surburban housewife who looks a bit like a librarian when her hair is pulled back tight get to lead a black man from the Ivory Coast who is in the States to finish his Master’s degree to Christ??

Not this one! And I guess that’s it, I didn’t do any leading. I don’t know how God was able to use me. But He did.

I penned this simple prayer before I left for the conference:
“Surrendering my expectations for my blog, for my writing, for the conference, surrendering my lofty ambitions and my parenting ideals so that God can raise to life His Glory in Me. In MUCH or LESS let Christ be glorified in me!”

I am wrecked. My plans, my writing, my life, my expectations all wrecked. I am not an evangelist. I am an introvert. An introvert who just happened to be obedient to a very strange prompting to walk to a pub. My words were awkward and simple. Yet somehow the mystery of Christ’s Glory happened.

“For God, who said, ‘Light shall shine out of darkness,’ is the One who has shone in our hearts to give the Light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not ourselves” (2 Corinthians 4:6-7).

God puts his light in earthen pots—of clay, dirt, earth. Earthen ware. Completely incapable of having light shine through it. And yet, God’s ways are mysterious, and He delights in doing that which makes no human sense. God doesn’t shine brightest where we are talented and gifted and fabulous—God shines brightest where we are the most human—the most broken. God shines the brightest where we can’t take any of the credit.

My life was once full of ambition, full of ways I could use my talents. I just want to be dirt now. I just want to shine God’s glory. I—broken—just want to reach a lost and broken world.

“God uses the foolish things of this world to confound the wise” (1 Cor 1:27). And like Paul, what I once counted gain, I now count as loss (Phil 3:7)…I want to be a fool.

I went to a conference wanting people to know my name, to find my place in the writing world, but I found He knows my name and I get to wear HIS name…

…and really, it’s HIS name that makes the difference in the world.



***Dear readers, maybe I could ask you to pray for me? That God would direct my paths. That I would have the courage to do whatever He would ask. That I would not be swayed by emotion but rather the leading of the Spirit. And pray for this man (whose name I prefer to keep private) that God would meet him in his step of faith. That he would find Christian community. That God would somehow speak to him through that English NASB Bible. That he would daily choose to live his life for Jesus and His Glory. 



By Grace,
Amanda


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Photobucket

Mike Hacking Amanda's Blog


Hi everyone! This is Amanda’s Husband, Mike. I am hacking Amanda's blog along with some other husbands whose wives are attending the Allume Social. You can check it out here.

When I was getting prepared to marry Amanda almost 7 years ago, I knew she was a Godly woman who is intelligent and passionate about outreach to the broken especially on the mission field. What I didn’t know was that Amanda is also full of hidden talents and creativity. It would be a shame to have all that bottled up at home.

Thanks to the world of Blogging, Amanda has found an outlet to not only be an encouragement to other women, but share her creativity and put her passion for writing into practice.

As Amanda’s husband I do my best to be supportive and understanding. It’s obvious to me that being a stay-at-home mom is challenging and even taxing on her at times. Just like other women, Amanda can use some encouragement too. The Blogging community has provided her with a plethora of fellow women who encourage her on a daily basis. 

I pray that the women at this year’s Allume Conference have a blessed time… And don’t worry about the kiddos, we men will figure it out. Even if it means giving them “a box of donuts between 5 and 6 o’clock” (thanks for the idea Jesse.)!

We're rooting for you, Amanda. Also the Niners. But you more.

PS- I’ll be honest, I don’t know the first thing about how to Blog or furthermore, hack a blog. Therefore, after typing on my nifty Word Processor I will pass it on to Amanda to do the “hacking”.

Cadence Caller



Photo Credit



I remember when he came home from his first day of intense physical training. The door opening to the smell of Central Valley fog, the diaper-butted crawler making her way for Dad, the tromp of spit-polished man-boots, and the deep sigh of exhaustion mixed with pride. I worked hard. I am sore. I am man.

Man reached down, picked up the pink-cheeked baby, and kissed the wife who was eager to hear about the first day. He began to recount all he had accomplished: the 5 mile run, the 50 push-ups, plus the 50 more when a fellow trainee was found with smudged boots. He told me about the other work-outs—the flutter kicks, the up-and-hold-em’s, the holding-the-wall’s… All kinds of ways to either break a man down or make him stronger.

I remember him telling me about the older Sergeant in charge of the training, how he’d call out things like “When my grandma was 92; she did PT better than you,” “Left, Left, Left, Right, Left!”—and with each rhythmic line the Sergeant called out, the trainees would echo back—cadences.

I remember his words about cadences, “Somehow hearing that voice and being required to repeat it back with 60 other people in unison, it just takes your mind off the pain in your body. It pushes me forward. I try my hardest. Some of them are kind of funny too. I enjoy it.”

Cadences.

Whether the battle is physical, emotional or spiritual, sometimes you just need someone to call out words of encouragement. Mere words spoken from a heart of camaraderie have the power to pull you out of ruts, take your mind off the pain, push you forward and bring out your try-hard spirit.

That’s the power we women can have. We can grab our metaphorical pom poms and cheer for our friends and even perfect strangers—or we can sit on the sidelines or even join the opposing team.

We can offer those been-there-before and you-are-a-good-mom words to the momma whose son is having the Temper Tantrum of the Year in the grocery store (instead of quietly speculating how she could have handled it better). We can cheer for our friend as her dreams become realized (instead of being secretly jealous). We can grab our closest friend by the hand and begin to pray after she pours out her soul in tears because she’s about to lose her house and her car (instead of stopping at the thought that we don’t have the money to help her).

We can help people press forward—be Cadence Callers.

Do you want to be a Cadence Caller?? Me too! Here’s 5 Ways to be one:

1. Prayer Warrior- Be the kind of person that when you say, “I’m praying for you,” you actually are. The best way you can help someone battle whatever opposition they are facing is on your knees (or pacing your living room… or sitting quietly on your balcony.)

2. Safe Place- Be the kind of person that people know they can talk to because you don’t blab secrets. You are not a gossip. And you definitely don’t attack someone’s emotions.

3. Encourager- Be the kind of person that is FOR people. You want to see them succeed. You say things like: “Press forward! You can do this!” Maybe even throw in a “Rah-rah-shish-boom-bah!”

4. Truth speaker- Be the kind of person that can speak out the promises of God found in His Word. Be unafraid to call out the truth your friend might be blind to because fear is skewing her vision… Things like how she’s not ugly or how many blessings she has in her life or how you have messes in your house too or how things like colic and unemployment don’t last forever.

5. Listener- Be the kind of person that allows her friends to pour out their heart before you offer any wisdom or encouragement. Sometimes someone just needs to empty their heartache so God can fill them back up with Hope. God can use even a quiet mouth when paired with a listening ear as encouragement.


Really, that’s it. If you can do those 5 things, you can be a Cadence Caller, a pom-pom holder, an encourager, and a really good friend.

And hey, we are all works-in-progress, so if you know you are falling short in one of those areas, maybe consider working on it. You can do it! (<---did you see how I did that? Yeah! That’s right. Cadence Caller Outer right here. :))

This is the point of this blog. It’s why I named it what I did. It’s why I love being a part of this thing called the blogosphere… because I see it—the way we can impact one another in the best way. I’m not fabulous, or conquering… but I want to be, and maybe you do too, and maybe we can encourage one another.

So, because I really like rhymes and might just be a complete dork…

...a Conquering Cadence for you:

When troubles are getting near,
I will not give into fear!

When my kids spill all their juice,
I won’t let my tongue get loose.

When I feel angry and full of doubt,
My friends remind me what God’s about

When my friend seems really down
I’ll sing silly songs to change her frown

When the mirror is mean to me,
My friend tells me I look like a Queen

Sound off. (one two) Sound off (three four)

Ooorah!


Alright. I’m pumped. You? Go conquer your day! You can do it!


Your fellow Cadence Caller,
Amanda


Want to join in the fun?? Maybe you would like to leave a cadence in the comments? Or maybe just some non-rhyming encouragement (because really the rhyming was just for fun and so not the point)?? (Pssst… I would love to hear YOUR encouragement here too!)
Or maybe, if you are feeling brave enough, you can share how you need encouragement in your life right now?? xo


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Spiders on Their Webs Snack

My husband currently does pest control. While studying for his different licenses, he would read our daughter his training materials (yeah, I know. There's a chance we may win the Nerdiest Parents of the Year award, but she really did like them... even beg to have them read to her). She in particular loves spiders. So, last year, for a preschool meet up that I hosted, the kids learned about the letter S and the number 8 and ate these delicious little treats. I thought now was a good time to share them with you.

Spiders on Their Webs Snack


Ingredients:
Jumbo Marshmallows
White Chocolate Chips
Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips
Pretzel Sticks

Will also need: 
Skewers
Wax paper
2 Microwavable bowls

1. Melt Semi Sweet Chocolate
2. Place Marshmallow on skewer, dip in chocolate.
3. Put 8 pretzel sticks into chocolate-marshmallow spider body so they look like legs and place on wax paper while chocolate sets.
4. Melt White Chocolate.
5. Lay pretzel sticks on wax paper in the shape of giant astericks and drizzle white chocolate over sticks so they look like webs.
6. For fast enjoyment place snack in freezer for 3 minutes so chocolate will set faster.
7. Enjoy!

This was the messiest part of this snack... adding the pretzel sticks to the mallow.
This part was a little tricky... the chocolate wanted to fall much thicker than the thin web I had envisioned... But it still turned out looking like a web.
You know their good when your ham of a daughter is too into her snack to want to pose for the camera.
These were so good! Is it okay if I confess to grabbing a left-over marshmallow, a handful of chocolate chips and some pretzel sticks and eating them together just about every time I walked through the kitchen for the weeks following this snack?? Yep. I so did.

Mallow, chocolate chips, pretzels... I think we are onto something good here. Makes me think of sweet and salty s'mores... oh yeah!

I'd love to know:
What treats do you make around Halloween for your family?


Happy Snacking :)

xo
Amanda 

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