Week of Love: Wednesday's Favorite Poem

For Wednesday poem, I am pulling out a famous classic: Shakespeare Sonnet 116!

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

Oh, how I love this sonnet! Favorite lines: "O no! It is an ever fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken." It stirs something in my heart. It makes me want to grab my husband's hand and say, "Babe, we got this. We might be facing a storm, but it can't shake our love." By the way, we are facing a storm. A nine-month-long storm. My husband just started an intense schooling program...while working full-time. I feel scared, but I know between God, the help of friends and family, and our love, we will get through this. "Love bears it out..." It is more than a feeling or whim; it has endurance. Resilience. [Insert tough face and a cross-armed gangsta' pose] Ugh, can't phase this! Take that, Trials!

Week of Love: Tuesday's Favorite Poem

I have a secret love. Okay, it's not that secret. Upon entering my home, you are immediately greeted with the the presence of it. Books. Literature. Poetry. I am excited to celebrate love and poetry this week and pull out some of my favorites. Poetry fascinates me. A writer's ability to say so much as succinctly as possible and taking into account the appearance of the words on the page, the sound of the words, the number of syllables and where the stressed syllables fall... oh my goodness, it is amazing. Perhaps, my inner geek is speaking right now, but I love poetry!

To start off my favorite poetry, I thought I would go with the most scandalous poem first. Am I the only one that loves a good scandal?

Whoso List to Hunt

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,
But as for me, alas, I may no more;
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that furthest come behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore,
Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
As well as I, may spend his time in vain.
And graven with diamonds in letters plain,
There is written her fair neck round about,
'Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.' 

Sir Thomas Wyatt 

This poem was written during the reign of Henry VIII of England. It is believed to be a personal poem about Anne Boleyn, Mistress to the King and later his Queen. Sir Thomas Wyatt and Anne are believed to have been lovers prior to her coming to the king's court. Clearly from this poem though, Sir Wyatt still had some feelings for her while she belonged to the king. Scandalous!

What first drew me to this poem are the lines, "I leave off therefore, Since in a net I seek to hold the wind." Beautiful. It reminds me of the fleeting nature of so many things in life like the fact that you really can't control another's affections towards you or like the fact that the baby whose chubby cheeks you could spend hours kissing on is going to grow up and become an adult (or worse yet, a teenager! Ha!). We can try to control life, try to catch it in our net, but it has all the untangible qualities of air. Some things simply cannot be held. It reminds me of an old song, "The Anchor Holds." The song writer and his wife had 2 miscarriages and then a 3rd miscarriage at 14 weeks. The lines, "I never knew that they could slip right through, like they were only grains of sand," describes what he felt when the doctor placed the lifeless babe into his hands. (To read more of the story or listen to the song click here.) While I didn't quite mean to be so despressing and have such a sad story, I think that a positive message is here. It seems every now and again life stops just long enough, the wind settles, and for but a moment you can hold it, savor it, and feel blessed and graced by it's presence. Savor those moments. (Carpe a couple kairoses a day!) When you are kissing your hubby get caught up in the fact that not only do you love this person, but he loves you back. When you are nuzzling your nose into soft baby skin know you have been blessed with the gift of motherhood. Trip on the fact that a life has been placed in your care. Enjoy that sweet smelling, soft baby skin because in a few years it will smell of chocolate chip cookies, dried sweat and dirt. When you are busy cleaning your car or home and are tempted to grumble about how easily it all gets messy, sit back and look at the things that you have that you don't need, and realize you are blessed.

On a completely unserious note: I also like the line of the poem, "And wild for to hold, though I seem tame." This girl is ferosh (like ferocious...except I am so ferocious I only need to say the first 2 syllables). Try that one out for Valentine's day with the husband. HAHA!!

Love to You!!!
xo

Week of Love: A Love Story

I am not much of a lovey-dovey, cry-in-every-Hallmark-commercial kind of girl. Valentine's Day is not my favorite holiday. It's not even in my top 5. I guess I am a bit to cynical to see past the commercialism of card, chocolate, stuffed animal, and flower companies to really get caught up in buying or receiving silly things (though if you are reading this dear husband, I do love notes or cards confessing your love for me, chocolate, and flowers and Valentine's day is a fine reason to get them for me. Sorry, Husband, apparently my cynism doesn't quite let you off the hook. HA!). That being said... I love literature with a hero or heroine who get their loved one in the end. I love love stories. I love love poems. Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe, or is anyone else dying to see Mary and Matthew Crawley on Downton Abbey end up together (I know not classic literature...but still!)?! There's just something about LOVE that I love... well a whole lot of somethings for that matter. And so my blog is dedicated to LOVE this week. Today is extra special: It's my all time favorite love story. The rest of the week will have a favorite love poem of mine each day.

And SO...

To Start the Week of Love...

A Love Story

“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music; perhaps ... perhaps... love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”

L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

As a girl, I had this quote written and pinned on my wall. I would pray just about every night that this would be my love story. I wanted to marry a friend. I wanted a story similar to Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe. I remember the many tears I cried, through the many times my heart was broken.

I also remember the moment the pages to my story were "flung athwart." I guess I didn't realize that in praying for it to "[creep] to one's side like an old friend..." would mean I wouldn't recognize him or see it happening. My handsome lover, Michael, started out my friend. Not my best friend. Not my good friend. More than an acquaintance. I respected him, though I admittedly refused to get in a car he was driving (when he first got his license he drove like an over-testroned male with something to prove... he probably was). He was 2 grades lower than me (our 1 1/2 age difference didn't phase me at 22; but it certainly did when I first met him... at 17. As a senior in high school, I had my standards!). He was one of the best friends to my ex-fiance... not going near that again. He was one of my brother's best friends... awkward. He was my best friend's long time crush... off limits. God had a couple layers of bandana fabric placed over my eyes so that I couldn't spoil His surprise.

I remember deciding to move out of the small town I grew up in to the big city. I had a job opportunity, ministry opportunity, and a place to move into with some amazing girl friends of mine. I didn't quite feel peace about it though. Like something told me to wait just a minute. I reasoned that there was nothing for me in my small town. No jobs, no ministry, and no guys. And then...

And then... my church had the very first worship-only service on a Sunday night. We called it "Going Deeper." I worshiped. I prayed. I cried out to God. It was awesome, and, when it was over, I was HUNGRY. I was standing amongst my friends, expressing the growlings of my stomach, when Michael looks at me, tilts his head to the side, and says, "You want to grab a burger or something?" The wind began to stir against the pages of my story.

That week, I went into my pastor's office—for what reason I can't remember, I was his administrative assistant—and ended up pouring out my heart about the woes of still being single at the late age of 22 (I may never marry! I shall die an old maid! So dramatic!). He thought for a moment and then asked me, "What about Michael?" My response, I don't remember it exactly but it went something like this: "What about his calling? (when you are a young woman in ministry everything is about “calling”) He's not called to be a pastor. What about the fact that he's okay with drinking alcohol and I am not? (I grew up with the religious mentality, 'if you are sipping, you're slipping.' I have since let go of legalism and embraced the freedom I have in Christ.) What about...? what about...?"

I had a list... no, really, I did, written out on paper my list of standards for a husband... and I didn't see the match in Michael. The list was long, but the list had been great. It kept me from getting too serious with the similarly long list of losers I'd dated or let's be honest, lusted, after.

Then my pastor said something that "flung athwart" the pages...

"Amanda, you need to lower your standards."

What?! Yep, he totally said THAT, just like THAT. (It is one of the long running jokes we have with our pastors. And my pastor loves to retell it. At Michael's expense. Poor Mike. Ha!) Those words haunted me. I couldn't shake them. I didn't want lower my standards. It sounded like a bad thing.

Right?!

But I did, just long enough to see what God wanted to show me.

My standards protected me. They kept me in control. I thought I knew what "the one" would look like, and I had a list to prove it. But God doesn't look at appearances, God looks at the heart. God knew Michael was the answer to my prayers even though I couldn't see it.

One time my sister and I redid my mom's bathroom for her for Mother's Day. We cleaned it, painted it, and turned it into a relaxing, shabby-chic spa retreat for her complete with African violets, bubble bath solution, and candles. We made sure everything was perfect. Then, we had her cover her eyes and we led her into her transformed bathroom. We made sure she was standing in just the right spot, the lighting was just right, and then uncovered her eyes and let her take in her surprise. We were like kindergartners with our Crayola masterpiece in our excitement to show our mom what we had done for her. "Surprise, Mom! We hope you like it! We love you, Mom!"

God had Michael perfectly hidden from me in plain sight like the sunglasses you frantically search the whole house for only to find that they are on your head. I couldn't see him. God had my eyes covered. He waited for just the right moment. My ex-fiance and I had been broken up for over 2 years. My best friend had lost her love interest in Michael. My brother, well, he was just going to have to get over it... and he did... eventually. God kept revealing Michael's shining qualities as I kept asking Him, "Well, what about...?" "Yes, Amanda, but look at this." He lead me to that perfect moment, sitting out in front of the church with Michael, talking from 7 pm to 2 am in the morning talking about our hopes and dreams and thoughts on life. And the reveal: Michael, my seemingly serious and very stable man, grabs my hand and leads me into the street and begins to dance, steps unknown, twirling me to our own private song. And I knew, this was the man for me. My prayers for a man that would dance with me, share a life with me, hope and dream with me had been answered.

“No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him."

1 Corinthians 2:9

My pastor might have thought he told me to lower my standards, but he really told me was that I wasn't going to be able to imagine up what God had in store for my life.

"Surprise, Amanda! I hope you like it! I love you, Amanda!"

And while this may seem like a love story between me and my husband, truly the greater love story is the way Jesus has pursued me and loved me and lavished good things on me. This story is just an excerpt from my greatest love story: the love of God for me.

So, as Valentine's Day approaches, know that if you find yourself single or full of relational complications: God is working to write you a beautiful love story. His hands might just be over your eyes waiting for the right moment for the perfect reveal. No need to rush out and find someone to cure the loneliness or the worry of growing old alone, no need to muddy the plot of your story. Also know that God is a great author; He can use all the missteps of our lives and use them in the story He wants to write for you, but perhaps our life is a little better when we let Him do all the writing. My final and most important plea: make sure you aren't missing the greatest relationship and romance you could have... with Christ!

Come back later this week (or each day this week...wink wink) to see some more LOVE. 

Happy Season of Love! Wishing you lots of it! XO



Oh and by the way, in case you are wondering... I am doing much better since my "survival mode" post. I have started implementing the stuff on that list, and it is helping. Biggest help though: the love I got from many of you! Thank you for your encouragement. My husband's dear granma even wrote me an email about her life in the 40's when her husband was away in the war and she was raising babies. SO Special! Thank you Granma! AND Thank you friends!

"Survival Mode"

Right now...

I am struggling.

The conquering housewife is feeling a little defeated.

I don't say this to complain. I don't say it because I want pity. I say it to keep it real and because I know I am not the only one who struggles. Sometimes it is really comforting to know I am not the only one, and maybe you too will find comfort in this.

Life has changed on me and I seem to have a hard time adjusting to change. My husband started a 9-month-long, intensive training program for his dream job 2 weeks ago. He is now home to sleep and shower... and occasionally do lunch or dinner with us. I feel the pressure to make lunch and dinner at the exact time it must be done so I don't make him late to class, not to mention iron his clothes and pack his lunch. I feel I must become SuperWife when he's home so I can make the most of the time with him for the kids. It is exhausting. I am exhausted. I am with the kids all the time unless I ask for help. Have I ever mentioned what a hard time I have asking for help? Jed has changed his schedule on me so not only are coordinating nap times with his sister's difficult, but he also wakes up with me (um, Jed, perhaps you weren't aware of this, but I get up early so I can have time with just me, my Cheerios, my coffee and God...and sometimes even my blog if I am really lucky.) On top of this, he has decided to boycott sleeping in his bed (I am on day 4 of it taking over an hour of crying to get him to sleep at night, plus at least 3 wake-ups a night, ugh!). Housework seems to swallow me up. I constantly feel like I am drowning in a sea of stuffed animals, blocks, dirty underwear and Cheerios. My children seem more like mess-creating tornadoes than learning, growing, cute little humans that I love to nurture ("Oh, Addy, why did you get that puzzle out? You never put it away?" So negative! Can't I just appreciate that she is young and that she is playing with a "learning" toy??). And then there is that little voice behind all of this, what about your dreams, Amanda? When will it be time for your dreams?  I never thought motherhood would feel like this great big "dreams on hold" button was being pushed until your kids are all out of the house. I don't think its supposed feel like that or at least I don't think it has to... but it does. I am not quite sure how to navigate my way out of that one. I am pretty sure there is something beautiful, purposeful, and meaningful about the waiting periods of our life...I seriously need to find it...but I am so not there yet. (fellow my-home-church-goers: didn't Pastor Gillian Burchell bring a CD about a message on the waiting periods of our life...something about yellow traffic lights??? Did anyone grab it? And can I borrow it?) Hmm... I feel like this post has become a "Welcome to my pity party. Can I get you a nice cup of complaint or perhaps a glass of whine?" Sorry!


Depression is something this girl battled in her teenage years. God definitely did a miracle for me (perhaps a story for another time.), but I have to keep it in check. I am seeing its symptoms start to appear: constantly feeling overwhelmed, extremely tired, desperately wanting out of the house but can't get the energy to actually get out of the house, seriously lacking in conversation though I am in serious need of friendship, wanting to watch tv simply because I want to not have to think, and being easily distracted by the stupidest things (who is that girl from high school dating? I wonder what kind of guy he is? Who is that with him in that picture?... Don't tell me I am the only one who falls into the facebook-stalking abyss every now and again.)

I haven't quite found my positive "God Moment" spin on all this yet. That's why I have been kind of quiet on this blog. I don't like saying anything if I have nothing nice to say. You have problems too, why would you want to hear about mine? And most likely you've gone through harder times than these, at least I know I have. But I have committed to being real, so here it is: I am struggling.

It seems there is this imaginary line I eventually cross when life throws changes at me. I get into "survival mode" at first...a maybe-if-I-pull-the-covers-over-my-head-it-will-just-go-away mentality or a just-grit-my-teeth-and-bear-it mentality. I do what I can to survive, make it work, and then I cross this imaginary line, the this-far-and-no-further line, and I decide I must make changes. I must figure out how to live through the struggle. No more barely keeping my head above water, it is time to find my life boat. JESUS! I NEED YOU! Yep, it's so time.

Pick your butt up, Amanda. Dust yourself off. Stop complaining. Stop hiding. Stop with the "survival mode." Figure out how to thrive through this. Yes, with God's help you CAN thrive through this. Depression simply isn't an option (don't misread that...this is my pep talk to myself. I realize that depression can be severe and completely medical.) I think I shall make a list of resolutions to give me some accountability and some ways I am thinking will help me to get out from under this.

My Resolutions:
1. Time with God is mandatory, Amanda! Not because of some law, but because I need it. God is my help and my strength... and if this really is the case, perhaps I better start turning to Him for help and strength!
2. Ask for help with kids from friends, parents, or siblings at least once a week. And, yes, you DO need help! And, yes, you DO need to ask for it!
3. Housecleaning- dishes must be done once daily and toys picked up once. However, only one day is to be set aside for housecleaning a week (things like scrubbing the toilet, the floors... you are simply going to have to get over the imperfect state of your house lest you go crazy) and only one day is to be set aside for laundry a week (so get your butt into gear and get that laundry cleaned, folded AND put away in one day lest it look like it rained shirts and underwear inside your tiny house).
4. New rule: The toys in Addy's room stay in Addy's room. I got myself a storage bin in the living area for toys that Addy and Jed can both play with and seriously there is just way too much to do in a day to allow more mess to be dragged throughout the house... she CAN keep it in her room and this is NOT asking too much.
5. If I am going to spend so much time in this house, it is finally time to make this apartment feel like home: pillows, curtains, paint, and ORGANIZATION. Yep, its definitely time. I once read it's a good idea to go room to room and organize one room at a time and spend 2-3 weeks adjusting you and and your family to the changes you've made (like where mail, keys and change now goes...) before moving on to another room. Yeah, do that!
6. Mommy and Addy dates. Girlfriend needs some time with me all to herself.
7. Mommy and Daddy dates. However we can cram them into Mike's busy week, we must cram them in. Jed can definitely adjust to daddy not being around. Addy will have a hard time, but time with mommy and a little time with daddy will make it easier for her. Our marriage, however, mandates that we spend some time together lest it fall apart or bitterness take root. I need to worry less about my kids getting time with Mike and worry more about me getting time with Mike.
8. Our income has changed (like 3 months ago). Do re-work your budget to match the new figures... like TODAY, Amanda! Let's not also drown in bills and debt.


Coming Up next week: I got some Valentine's Day stuff in the works. I wrote a post I can't wait to share and a countdown of my favorite love poetry. That means one post every day next week! I look forward to you stopping by this blog for a visit. Sorry no Valentine's crafts here. I am just not the door wreath for every holiday kind of girl...in fact I don't even own A wreath. (But I am a super big literature nerd... hence the poetry. Who needs holiday wall decor when you can just have book cases and shelves full of books all over your walls, right? Ha!)

Coming Soon: I have started some home organization projects in my great room. Can't wait till it's all done and I can share. My father-in-law is a master painter and is going to help me shabby-chic up some thrift store finds. This makes me happy: the man is super artistic, great with color and a genius with faux finishes. I have LOTS of ideas. I think I may even be busting out the power tools. [Insert tough face and flexed muscles]

And while I am thinking of such things... Do comment on my posts and join my site if you are so inclined. That kind of stuff makes my day.

Wisdom and Parenting

I once heard this message preached by Pastor Wayne Cordiero. (Click the link if you would like to see more of his messages. He is one of my favorite communicators of the gospel.) I tried finding the message on the web but, alas, I couldn't, so you will just have to hear it from me. It's a simple, practical message that seriously changed my life. I pull it out constantly so I wanted to share it with you.

Everyone has the ability to learn wisdom. Everyone gets the chance to learn wisdom. There are two different "schools" at which one can learn wisdom: School of Wisdom and the School of Consequence. Both are great schools that effectively impart wisdom.

The School of Wisdom has great teachers. It's teachers are people like Moses, David, Peter and Paul from the Bible. It also has on its staff parents, pastors, and people slightly older and wiser who have already been through what you are going through. The School of Wisdom is free; it doesn't cost you anything but the time invested into learning from it. 

The School of Consequence is an equally great place to learn Wisdom. It's teachers are Life and Hard Knocks. The School of Consequence has varying fees, but it will always cost you something. Sometimes attending there can cost you a little, but sometimes it can cost you everything. Should you decide that you would rather not enroll in a school, you will automatically be enrolled in the School of Consequence.

The simplicity of this message can be applied to anywhere a person happens to find him/herself in life. I am constantly asking myself, "How do you want to learn, Amanda?" When it is so simply broken down, School of Wisdom seems like the glaringly obvious choice. I am not so sure I can afford the School of Consequence... I am not so sure I want to afford it. For me, at this particular moment in time, I am reminded that I need to be surrounded by people who have raised children and by people who have weathered a few storms in marriage. While I could pay the fees and go about it my own way, I think I should much prefer learning from Wisdom. It's way better on the budget! I don't want to look back on my child-raising years and just have a long list of things I wish I had done better. It's not just my life in the balance; I need wisdom for the sake of my children.

I did a bible study a few months back on parenting. I loved the first lesson. I paraphrased from the book 14 Secrets to Better Parenting by Dave Earley in a handout I made.

Think of the legend of Robin Hood. The guy is supposed to have an incredible ability to hit any target with a bow and arrow. But imagine the skilled marksman was blindfolded or didn't know what his target was... would he still be able to hit the target? Likely not!


It's the same way with parenting. Shooting in the dark and hoping for the best result is not a good game plan when raising children. You must know your target then practice hitting it. Know your goal, then hone your skills so you may achieve that goal. The goal? Wisdom! (Proverbs 1:1-4; 4:1-2; 4:5-7; 1:7; 3:13,18; 4:10-14)


We all want our kids to grow up to be happy and healthy, but those are a by-product of wisdom. For example, if you simply aim for happiness, you may over-indulge/spoil your child. But if you aim for wisdom, God PROMISES happiness and health will follow with wisdom (Proverbs 3:13,18; 4:10-14).

It seems in parenting it is important to know the target and practice hitting it. Not only do we want to achieve wisdom in our kids, but it requires us having some in us as well. I NEED to read my Bible more and spend way more time with WISE people... wise in the areas I need wisdom.

You too??

Changes!

I am the proud owner of my own small piece of property on the world wide web. www.the-cadence.com

I am excited! Be excited with me!

Same Blog. Different Name and URL.

I have been wanting to change the name. I liked the old name, but I was feeling the need for a little more anonymity. You can still use my old URL to find me for now.

Some things to look forward to in the future:

• A Logo and Prettier Blog Page
• A Facebook page and Twitter account
• A Series on Love

And just for my family and friends:

I could look at this face all day. The Jed-man loves to bounce, loves to stand (holding on to something), and has shown no interest in crawling... though he has gotten good at scooting while on his back. I think we may have an early walker/late crawler.

Addy is better adjusted to big sister life now that Jed responds more to her. So fun to watch them play!

Addy's growing WAY TOO FAST.

Watching Dad's favorite team win the playoff game. They are headed to the NFC Championship game! Maybe even the Superbowl.

Dad's First Day of School :)

Dream Team of MVO's

This morning has involved a lot of bouncing...

Bouncing my teething son...

And bouncing ideas off some dear people in my life whose opinions I value.

While texting my friend, I thanked her for her input by calling her one of my MVO's (Most Valued Opinions). My moment of cleverness faded into the thought... There is a small handful of people in this life whose opinions matter to me, whose opinions should matter anyways. They are people who know me, really know me. They know my private struggles, my short-comings, my character flaws. They know my dreams and my strengths. They know my values and either share share similar values or they respect my values enough to protect them.

Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." My MVO's are able to set aside their life for a few minutes, and, when I am excited over something, they get excited. When I am experiencing heartache, no matter how good their day was, they can set it aside to encourage me, listen to me, and pray for me. They don't get jealous of my achievements. They are truly happy for me. They don't grow weary of my troubles. They truly care about me.

An MVO has too influential a spot in your life to allow it to be filled by just anyone. They have the power to kill your dreams and make you believe less of yourself than you really are. They can ruin your day with an unkind word. They can ignore your short-comings because they are too afraid of hurting your feelings to tell you the truth (kind of like when you get spinach in your front teeth and you walk around the party unaware and no one tells you.) They can fail to lay aside their own dreams and values and instead try to form your life and dreams to the way they think it should look. When life gets exciting, they fail to celebrate with you. Your triumphs become petty. When life gets hard, they leave you feeling abandoned because they just couldn't mourn with you.

Just two simple questions for the day: Who are your MVO's? And should they have such a valued and influential place in your life?

In this world, there is only ONE you! My pastor likes to say "You are His (God's) favorite. He only made one of  you." Who you are and what you were made for, your hopes and dreams, are far too important to allow any of it to be crushed by a well-meaning friend or family member. Surround yourself and your dreams with your DREAM TEAM... even if that means it's just you and God for a while... God is able to fill the spot. He could even be your entire team!

By the way, I have friends and family that I love and cherish who simply aren't MVO's. I love them. They aren't going anywhere. But I keep my dreams and values sacred lest who I am and what I was made for be extinguished. Also by the way, when a dream is first forming it is most fragile... sometimes at this point only God should get an input. As a dream grows and begins to take form, more people can be involved.

Here's to my MVO's! You know who you are, and I treasure you. And here's to all the MVO's everywhere!

I Conquered the Turkey!

I don't know what it is about 14 lbs of dead turkey that is so intimidating, but cooking one is something that I have wanted to do but have avoided for 6 years like the girl who wants to watch the horror flick but covers her eyes through the entire movie. When I was first married I got a turkey from the grocery store for free. I was so excited. I was going to be SUPER Housewife: able to cook a delicious turkey, keep a clean home, and sew curtains too! The turkey sat in my freezer for 6 months before I finally gave it away to a family down the street. I had no idea how to cook it, I could ruin it, what in the world would I do with all that meat, and stick my hand up into the cavity of the bird to pull out the neck and gizzards...pass.

This Thanksgiving, I bought a turkey because they were super cheap and I decided I was finally going to conquer this thing. It sat in my freezer for almost 2 months before I worked up the needed courage to make it. I didn't do anything too crazy to it. Put a couple strips of bacon on it like my mom always does, stuck it in the oven, and pulled it out every half hour or so to baste it. I accompanied my first ever turkey dinner with my first ever gravy,  no-box sausage stuffing, and home-made cranberry sauce. I kept everything simple, way too many firsts here!

It all turned out good. Turkey was a bit dry, but still good. With the leftovers, I have made turkey enchiladas (just subbed turkey for chicken in a simple chicken enchilada recipe), have plans for turkey and dumplings, and just finished off a piece of delicious turkey sandwich brilliance.

Toasted multi-grain bread. Cream cheese. Cranberry sauce. Spinach greens. Turkey. Stuffing. Brilliant.

I know this is nothing new, the Thanksgiving left-over sandwich is a classic. But do try adding a little cream cheese and cranberry. It's fabulous. (And by the way, if you have ever been intrigued by picture of the ex-con playing the guitar telling you to "Say no to bread on drugs" on the package of "Dave's Killer Bread" while grocery shopping... I finally gave into my curiosity and bought it. It is really is Killer... and I mean that in the "wow, this is the best sliced sandwich bread I have ever had" kind of way.)

Thinking I should never let 14 lbs of dead anything intimidate me again. Ha!

Hope it's okay if I end this post with a shout: I conquered the turkey!

Healthy and Delicious Turkey Meatballs

Anyone else look at themselves in the mirror while Christmas season was going on, furrow their eye brows, rub their eyes, and try to not see that their waistline had increased? Yeah, I so did, and it so has. I love all the baking and wonderfully joyous treats that appear in the kitchen... I love them a little too much. Sometimes I spend the entire day with the plate of cookies calling out to me. I am happy the holidays are over, mostly for the sake of my waistline!

So, that being said, I am trying to cook lighter and healthier.

Perhaps you would like to as well... so I now give you for your tastebud's delight:

The Turkey Meatball!

Alright so the Meatball isn't THE healthiest food out there, but this meatball is better than the average meatball:

I call for lean ground turkey. By the way, in the battle of ground beef and ground turkey; the turkey does not win, but neither does the cow. In fat, calories, and cholesterol content, both meats come out with similar results. The key to eating either, is buying LEAN. Check the label and buy 90/10 or better.

I use Panko over Italian breadcrumbs. Besides providing great texture, the are lower in saturated fat and significantly lower in sodium.

Rather than sear in butter, I sear my meatballs in a light pan-spray coating of heart-healthy canola oil.

I use cast-iron which is actually a healthier way to cook: the blood-important mineral, iron, finds its way into your food and thereby your body. You may be able to leave the iron supplement on the health store shelf, and start cooking in cast iron.

I use Kosher salt. Salt is salt, but the process to make Kosher salt makes the salt crystals bigger meaning Kosher salt has less sodium in the same amount of salt. Switching to Kosher is an easy way to reduce your sodium intake.

Ingredients:

1 lb. Lean Ground Turkey
3 garlic gloves, minced
1/4 cup finely chopped onions
1/4 cup fresh parsley, chopped or 1 1/2 tbs dry parsley
1/2 tsp Basil
1/2 tsp Oregano
1/4 tsp Thyme
Pinch of Nutmeg
1/2 tsp Fresh Ground Pepper
1/2 tsp Kosher Salt
1 egg beaten
Canola Oil Cooking Spray
24 oz jar of your favorite spaghetti sauce (my favorite: Classico's Tomato Basil. It runs just over $2.00 a jar. My all time favorite: 1/2 jar of Tomato Basil and 1/2 jar of Vodka Sauce... It's one way to add some extra fat into your food... but oh so yummy!)
Whole grain Spaghetti noodles (13.25 package) (I use Barilla's Whole Grain Thin Spaghetti)

1. Heat up your cast iron dutch oven over medium heat. Spray with Canola Oil. Sweat chopped onions until limp and slightly browned. Pull out of oven and set aside.
2. Put all of your ingredients into a large bowl. Mix. (Do not over work meat.)
3. Shape into about 1 1/2" balls. (Yield should be 16-20 balls)
4. Sear in hot cast iron dutch oven until just brown on all sides... about 1 minute a side.
5. Dump a 24 oz. jar of your favorite spaghetti into dutch oven. Allow to bubble. Reduce heat to low and cover.
6. Allow meatball to cook through, about 60 minutes. (Check after 45 minutes)
7. Prepare pasta. (The key to good pasta is the timing. Read the package for cook time and do not leave your pasta unattended.)
8. Serve.

Variations: Meatballs can be cook in skillet until done or can be cook in a crook pot for about 2 hours.

Suggestions for parents: Allow your child to help you form the balls while singing at the top of your lungs the meatball song (gotta cut loose sometime, right?) and pair your meal with this with the movie, Cloudy with a chance of Meatballs, for and extra special, no-dinner-complaints kind of meal with your kid(s).

And now in pictures:

Sweating onions

"The Ultimate Tower of Italian Seasoning Power" Yeah, I know. I am kind of a dork.

Oops...I forgot to include the oregano to my tower.

Ready to mix!

Best way to quickly mix meat mixes...Take of your rings and get you hands in there. Use your fingers to push the seasonings and Panko through the meat.

Form into balls and place in dutch oven.

Getting their SEAR on...

(Insert Italian Accent) "That looks like one a-tasty meat-a-ball"

My favorite sauce combo.

Simmering...

My dutch oven. Not too expensive to buy, if you shop around. This guy was $30.

The nutty flavor of whole grain pasta has grown on me and now its my favorite.

Anyone else want to bust out in song: "On top of spagetti, all covered with cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed..."

Applesauce and Insecurity

My daughter and I need way more fruit in our diets so I got this brilliant idea this week: Homemade applesauce! My thought was that I could make it for us, and then thin it down with some water and have baby food for Jed. So 2 days ago, I made it. I put my cored and halved apples into my cast iron pan, filled with an inch of water. I added some cinnamon sticks. I set the temperature to high just to get the water to boil.

Not sure if this picture indicates the sheer difficulty I have coring an apple.

Looks promising, right?!

My Christmas present from my in-laws. Porcelain-coated, cast-iron skillet. Ain't she a beaut!

I then sat down to the computer to do some "research" on pinterest. (I did a little thrifting yesterday for some furniture pieces and wanted to be prepared with an arsenal of design ideas). I kept thinking, "Wow my house smells amazing. I think applesauce was a great idea..." Forty-five minutes and 20 pins later, it hits me, my apples are on high heat! I pulled off the lid to find mushy apple soup still somewhat contained within their half apple shell. The apples were too broken down to be good for a grown woman's palate (probably even for a 3 year olds... yep it was bad). On the bright side, I added a banana and some blueberries and made some babyfood... and did not have to add any water. The apples soaked up enough of that on their own. Also on the bright side: my house smelled amazing and I was reminded to be humble.

Apple soup+banana+blueberries=great baby food

Store baby food by freezing in ice cube tray and then storing cubes in freezer bag. Also a great idea for fresh herbs and pesto sauce!

 
Lesson learned: Pinterest, while loads of fun to collect great great ideas, is a bad place to be while cooking a meal. Something could get hurt.

For some reason this got me thinking a little deeper than my Pinterest lesson though...

Ever come across someone that you think "has it all together." Or maybe in the blog world, you stumble across one of those blogs that is full of amazing ideas... from an amazing woman... with an amazing family... who takes amazing pictures...and has amazing amounts of time, and you can't help but feel like less of a person because you don't make your own recipes, craft for 2 hours everyday, and knit in your spare time, oh and also blog about it all (not to mention just struggling to do all the mom-have-to's like keeping a clean house, spending time with your children, nurturing their boo-boo's and the carpet that they just left yet another mess on, and finding time for yourself, ha.) Anyone else ever question, who is this "Pioneer Woman" really? And how in the world does she do it all???

And maybe some of you think that of me. My nose may be pointy and I may have some "crunchy-granola" passions (like cloth diapering, repurposing/reusing furniture, and homemade and healthy food) but not only do I not think I am better than everyone, I KNOW I am not. If you know me outside of this blog then you should also know I am much better in prose than I am in person. I am an introvert and sometimes struggle with small talk. I often embarrass myself with my awkwardness. But my quietness and my pointed nose is not snubbery, it's me. I often don't know what to say and can write almost a novel but can't come up with small talk. (I know, I don't get it either.) I struggle to get all I need to get done. My house is a mess 6 days a week, I go thru the McDonald's drive thru at least once a week (and some week's it's more accurately 3 times), my running routine has fallen off the map because I am too lazy to weather thru the cold, I rarely put make-up on except for special occasions or when I am overcome by the sudden need to feel pretty, and some days I am the least qualified person to talk about Thriving. I talk about it, because, well, it's where I am and I love to write. That's it. I write what I am going thru and what I have been thru. I have not arrived, just writing about the journey.

While doing youth ministry I noticed this phenomenon: a "normal-looking" (or even homely) girl shows up for youth and she is bombarded with warmth from youth and leaders a like. But when a "beautiful-looking" girl shows up, next to no one welcomes her. Youth avoid her unless they already know her. EVEN leaders, those who are five or more years older and supposedly wiser, avoid greeting her. (I only say this because I know youth ministry; this is not a bash against it, for I fear this phenomenon happens everywhere.) In fact, you could probably measure your own security and confidence in yourself by how you respond when you are in the presence of someone who has greatness or beauty that you perceive to be greater than your own.

I recently had some new people enter my life. I tried my hardest to welcome them, to get to know them, but I have caught myself analyzing and re-analyzing their every move. I catch myself saying sarcastic jokes and critical statements to my husband at their expense (when they aren't around). And which person is it that gets to be at the brunt of most of my cruelty? The person whose talents and personality is most like mine! I suppose it is that deep down I feel threatened by them. They could replace me, they could be better than me... INSECURITY! It has reared it's ugly head in my life yet again. Kind of like the pair of jeans that makes your butt look big or muffin-tops your belly, I do not like what insecurity is doing to my character. Jealousy, sarcasm, meanness, criticism, comparison... you do not look good on my character! I shall kindly take you off now and find something else to wear.

The Biblical angle I keep thinking of is that God loves me just as much as He loves everyone else. To quote my pastor from the church I grew up at, "There isn't anyone that God loves more than you, Amanda." He said this to me constantly. Apparently I need to know this, and remember it often.

"There isn't anyone that God loves more than you."

Also, the Bible is very clear: God made us uniquely and differently and with different gifts and talents and different measures of each. Point: people simply are going to be better than me and people are going to be worse than me. But God doesn't compare. Each one is His prized creation. He didn't get lazy while you were in your mother's womb. His creativity didn't dull. He made you wonderfully unique with a wonderfully divine purpose, no matter the abundance or seeming lack of talents you have. You have something. You have purpose. You have "a reason for."

People will be better than me. People will be worse. But I was made to be ME and no one can do that better than ME.

So, I shake off the insecurity. I will like who I am. I will Love who I am. I am strong. I am compassionate. I am quiet. I am perceptive. I am introspective. I am funny. I can write. There is no need to compare my talents and passions to others for I am a masterpiece. I am made in God's image with divine purpose... that no one can shake from me. I seek to take all that I am and make a sound with it loud enough to echo beyond my lifespan however long it may be, echo through my kids' lives and their kids' lives, and hopefully echo into eternity. And I will NOT muffle my voice by comparing who I am, my dreams, and my abilities to someone else!

Take that Insecurity!

Hear me ECHO!

Funny the journey this post took me on. I occasionally ruin applesauce. I am imperfect. Please don't compare me to you. Please don't compare yourself, Amanda, to anyone else (Insert stomp on insecurity in my life). So let me leave you with one final thought that I couldn't get to fit anywhere else:

"You don't always have to get it right, just be willing to try.

And there is usually something salvagable in the trying."

Apply that to applesauce, child-rearing, or your dreams.

Now... Put on some metaphorical horse-blinders to keep you from comparing yourself to others, and go TRY and go BE who YOU were made to be.

I feel ready, do you?

The Grace Game

Ever have a "Turning Point?" You know, life is going along as usual. Perhaps there is a slight feeling of discontentment, but life is normal. You are who you've always been. And then, something happens that leaves you forever changed.

I have had a few of those moments in my lifetime. There are the big life moments: my wedding day and the birth of my first child. There are the hard times: the day my husband and his dad made the desicion to close down their business and the day I found out my dear granny had been diagnosed with an aggressive brain cancer. Then there are the times I was casually going about life as usual, and nothing really extraordinary happened but somehow God managed to gently teach me a big life lesson that forever changed me.

Today, I want to reflect on one of those business-as-usual Big Moments.

I was 21. Idealistic as ever. I had just returned from 3 months of living in inner-city Los Angeles. I interned at a missions organization and got spend a lot of time at the Dream Center (a 24-hour church that literally has a ministry for every possible way a person could be down and out). I dealt hope to the homeless, helped with youth group missions trips in Tijuana, met some amazing missionaries, reached out to teen runaways, and put on programs for children in some of the worst projects in the LA area. It was an amazing summer.

I came home from my internship ready to save the world. And don't you know, in three months time I managed to gain all the experience and wisdom necessary to be able to do this better than anyone else? HA! I took a position at my church as the administrative assistant. I am pretty sure I drove my pastors crazy, for, with all my 3 months of ministry knowledge, I could not only administrate; I could also pastor better than they could. Confession: I was and still can be a complete know-it-all. My senior pastor later confessed that he almost fired me. I don't blame him. I was difficult.

At this time there happened to be a young man who was interning at the church. I couldn't stand him. I didn't think he belonged there. I also thought I was qualified enough to be able to say whether he belonged there or not... after all I did have my 3 months of internship experience. He would constantly make trips to my desk and stare at my chest. I didn't care if he was in recovery. This was the holy house of God! How dare he call himself an intern and look at a woman's bosoms, foul sinner! (I am being intentionally dramatic.)

Anyways, on this particular day, I had had enough from this young man. I left work thoroughly frustrated. I got in my car and headed to school. The freeway greeted my bad day with some especially congested traffic. Is it just me or does it seem that somehow everyone gets the memo when you've had a bad day and decides to drive especially bad?

A woman was tail-gating me. I found this to be mildly irritating. Then, she decides to floor it into the carpool lane and cut right in front of me, forcing me to brake hard and the car behind me to almost hit me. My bad day combined with this bad driver made me want to scream out every four letter word I could think of.

When I first got my license, to keep road rage from turning my mouth into a cesspool of expletives, I made up a game I called, "The Grace Game." Every time another driver did something to upset me, I came up with a ridiculous story of why that person would have had a good reason to do that. For example, "Perhaps he took my right-of-way because he was in a great hurry. He has missed every single one of his son's baseball games this season and he really needs to make it to the last one to prevent further damaging his relationship with his family. He accidentally hit a dog on the way to the game and decided to do the right thing and pull over to see if the dog could be helped. He knocked on a couple doors to try to find the owner making him irrevocably late..." Less than a minute of my absurd story and my anger was gone.

So on this particularly frustrating day, I remembered "The Grace Game." I began making up a story for this woman. "Perhaps her mom is on her deathbed. While on the way the the hospital, her boyfriend called to tell her that her dog had died. Then he called her back to tell her that he was leaving her for another woman. She now desperately needs her mom and wants so badly to see her one last time..." I begin to chuckle at my slightly morbid ridiculousness. I begin thinking how super clever I am for inventing "The Grace Game."

Enter my life changing moment:

God gently spoke to me in the midst of my prideful revelry, and said, "Amanda, that's conditional Grace. My Grace is Unconditional."

Silence while the words sink in.

Tears, lots of them, immediately ensued.

You may think I am crazy for thinking that God talked to me. But He did. My life-changing moment may be small and normal. But I can still hear those words. They were soft and gentle. A whisper really. But they jarred that girl out of the pride she had been living in and into a small glimpse of the vastness of God's Love.

Our grace is conditional.

We want excuses. Reasons for things. Bad behavior can be fine so long as there is an explanation for it.

God's grace is unconditional.

He doesn't need an excuse, a rough childhood to understand the adult you are today... you can be downright awful and the moment you ask for God's forgiveness, favor, help, love... you have it. It doesn't make sense. It cannot be fathomed or grasped. And it's really not supposed to be: see, there's this thing called Faith. Faith fills the gap between God Ways and our understanding.

I felt especially awful at that moment sitting in practically idle, rush-hour traffic. I had no excuses for my lack of forgiveness. I had no reason to be the prideful, judgmental, know-it-all I had become. I could somehow reach out and love the down-and-out, drug-addict on the streets who chose his addiction over his family, house, and job because I could see the rough life and the addiction as an excuse to live in depravity. But somehow, I couldn't extend love and grace to my pastors and that intern because they should know better. Right?

I should know better.

Most of the time, I do know better.

I am so thankful for the unconditional grace God gives this girl. If you read my last post, Eat My Words, you know pride is an ongoing struggle for me. The moment I think I have conquered it and have learned some great lesson in humility is the moment I find some other aspect of pride ruling some other aspect of my life.

In light of my last post, I need to remember to not form opinions of or make excuses for others. I am not God, and my version of grace and love doesn't even come close to measuring up to His. What is this great need inside me to play God? To decide who deserves what they get and who doesn't?

Unconditional.

Hmmm... What would it look like to live without conditions? I want to find out... And in the meantime, I am just appreciative of the fact that God loves me without them.

Eat My Words

Sometimes, I judge.

As of late, I feel as though someone has gone through the buffet line of every careless word of judgement I have ever spoken, picked a few choice ones to pile up on the plate, and now I get to eat my words.

Ever had that kind of moment? You are casually going about your business and catch yourself doing something you at one time judged others for doing? Or maybe someone says something about you that you once said about someone else? Or maybe you've caught yourself doing something that you once said "I will never...," like from your younger days before you had kids when you thought you could parent better than your mom. Right now, it feels like God is tapping me on my shoulder and gently reminding me of times past. I don't consider myself judgmental, more like idealistic or maybe even opinionated. But no matter how I choose to color it, I still judge. The past 6 months or so has contained a plateful of reminders of this shortcoming of mine.

A few months back, a girl I knew made a remark about a woman who had her 4ish year old peeing into the bushes outside of a shopping store. Her comment was something along the lines of "Seriously?! Why would anyone do that? That's unbelievable. I will never..." As a mother who has survived potty training and has a busy daughter who waits to the absolute last possible second to head to the bathroom to relieve herself, I know that sometimes allowing your child to urinate outside the store is simply a matter of survival. It's not ideal. It's not what anyone dreams of when they think of motherhood. But sometimes, on the rare occasion, motherhood simply requires some pretty "interesting" and often embarrassing duties from us. I did not say anything to my friend, for some things are better learned on one's own. God is a great and gentle teacher anyways.

We are all guilty of such things, though I suppose I shouldn't speak for you; I am guilty of such things. Lack of experience causes me to look at the choices other people make and question them. And I suppose if I am to be very honest, sometimes I am just downright rotten. A little piece of me that still struggles to know her value wants to compare myself to others so I can feel a little better. But that's an entirely different conversation for a different day,

I am learning that people and life are a sum of choices we make. Different situations challenge what is most important to us, and we make our decisions accordingly.

Being a stay-at-home mom has been something that I place great value on. But its a choice that has come at a high price. Circumstances have demanded that my husband and I make some really tough decisions to keep me at home, decisions that I know not everyone would make. We've had to look at two things we value greatly and decide which one is more valuable. It's kind of like the woman at the store who has to choose between the value of public decency and the value of not allowing her child to pee in his/her pants. I am sure it's not that public decency has no value. I am sure it is a value she wants to instill in her child. But she made a choice, and the value of dry pants won. Perhaps not everyone in that situation would do what she did. Perhaps there could have been other options besides the bushes outside. How can she be judged though, for I haven't lived her life, and I am clueless about her values?

Please don't think this blog is a rant about my judgmental friend. I wouldn't even say she's judgmental, and I also wouldn't be able to say that she's not judgmental; I really don't know either way. I have absolutely similarly judged. For example, and this may show my suburban, small-town upbringing, as a 20ish year old I had this thing about apartments. I looked at apartments, thought it looked lame to live amongst a parking lot with strangers so close by, and thought to myself, "I will never." I didn't want to rush out of my parents' house as a young woman and end up in an apartment. I am not quite sure what my thing was, guess it was just idealistic youth, but I totally thought people who lived in apartments were lame. I now live in an apartment. It's not a big deal. It's a desicion that I made because, well, I've grown up since then and because it's one of the choices we've had to make to keep me at home. Sure, if I could have my cake and eat it too, I would stay at home AND have a house with a backyard. But both isn't an option. So we made a desicion about which one we valued more. We choose me at home. (And by the way, this is NOT me saying everyone should make this desicion in a similar situation. I do not think that. I am only saying what desicion we made for us.)

Even though I am fine with our apartment choice, I will never forget sitting at dinner surrounded by friends and having one person, who happened to be planning for her wedding and her life with her significant other, say, "Yeah, I just don't think I could live in an apartment. There's just something about them." It hurt. I suddenly felt like I was less than. Not good enough. Coach class at a table of executive class people. Apartment class sitting amongst house-with-a-groomed-backyard class people. I thought of the fact that not only did I live in an apartment, but I had also moved back in with my parents for 2 years and after that lived above my church in a tiny studio apartment before moving into our current apartment. They were my husband's and my choices as much as we would like to play the victim-of-a-bad-economy card. And what did all that say about me? Is there "just something about me?" I know I am a little sensitive, but it hurt my feelings. She didn't say it with that intent, she was just communicating her future plans with her future husband ignorant of my living situation. And as I was getting upset, I realized it bothered me so much because I WAS THAT GIRL. I ignorantly judged apartment living and now I was being judged by my same system of measurement. Ouch!

I am sure this is a familiar passage from the Bible: "Do not judge so that you will not be judged. For in the way you judge, you will be judged; and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you" (Matthew 7:1-2). In light of what I have been thinking on, I think I understand it a little better. I guess I always skimmed over the "standard of measure" part. I looked at the whole passage and thought "Ok. Don't judge. Got it. Next passage..." Standard of measure refers to weight. It's like going to the grocery store and pulling out a bunch of tomatoes and placing them on the scale. Do you measure in ounces and pounds or in grams and kilograms? I think God is essentially saying that if you pick people up, put them on the scale of your values and determine their worth; by that same scale and by those same values, you yourself will be measured and your worth determined. You yourself will get to eat your words.

The Bible promises God sees us as valuable, a treasure, it speaks of Him seeking after us, pursuing us like a man seeks after the woman he desires above all others. But when we bust out our scale of values and begin to place people on them, Matthew 7:1,2, implies that God now must look at something he sees as valuable, priceless, and wonderful in his perfect eyes and look at us through our imperfect lenses and place us on our imperfect scale. I am thinking I definitely like the way God's sees me better. I am thinking I definitely need to ditch my scale!  

Part of my struggle has been learning to live knowing that I am being judged by others. I find it incredibly hard to know that someone is standing with their nose upturned at me, even though I know I made the best decision for me and my family. Shame. Judgment. Uck! I am finding it incredibly hard to live under that burden, but I haven't quite figured out how to live without caring. Try as I might I DO care what other people think. I know; it's pride, and I need to care more about what God thinks of me. Can I just say, at least for me, "THIS IS HARD!" I know I have come a long ways. Learning to like myself is part of it. Learning to make the desicions that I can live with helps. But its hard. I haven't quite figured out how to further navigate my way out from under the weight of people's judgment. I am learning, but I have a ways to go.

The bright side to eating my buffet plate of careless words is that I am learning compassion. I might have considered myself compassionate before, but I am also learning compassion is something that one can always get better at. My depth of understanding is increasing because my life experience is increasing. I can better understand others. And I can better understand that I don't need to understand others. I am learning because I absolutely hate eating my words, to not just keep my opinions to myself, but to stop forming them all together. I think that is a better form of compassion anyways.

While I may not not be much of one for resolutions, I do love how the new year draws that line on the track for me and lets me run in the direction I choose so that when the next year draws close I can look back and see how far I have come. So new year, I am going to try to keep my mouth shut more often, form fewer opinions about others, and focus my attention on how God sees me instead of others.

"Truly he taught us to love one another; His law is love and His gospel is peace."
-from "O Holy Night"

I think these lyrics pretty much sum it up for me. God gives us perfect love and perfect peace. And He calls us to live that way with others.

Some Updates before Christmas

First,

Since most of my family, save but maybe those down under, has gotten my Christmas cards, here are our family pictures:

 The men are a wee bit serious...

 And the girls are a wee bit silly...

Very appropriate!


Second,
I got my ear warmers for Kerrington's Christmas completed! This makes me happy. My friend is headed out tonight to give homeless the gift of warmth... praying they feel the warmth not only from the keep-you-warm items like gloves, hats and scarfs, but also in their hearts by the love of all who donated and/or are spending their time tonight handing gifts out. A big "thank you" and "good job" to all the real warmth-givers everywhere!

Some pictures:

 The purple rose seemed special and pretty, so I gave this one to my friend. She needs one too! :)

 I put 2 buttons on these ones so that they could be adjustable.

Can you guess my favorite? The giant yellow double bow! I have been in love with it since I first saw it on deliacreates. Didn't think yellow could work with my white skin tone, but I think it does. Score! I feel like you can help but smile when you see this (if from nothing else, then from the sheer audacity it takes to wear a giant yellow bow atop one's head). I like making people smile.

Guess who has her fingers crossed for enough time to make one for herself for Christmas? Hey, I need a Christmas gift too! Ha!

Third,
My son is officially a sitter.

Isn't my son a looker?! I so LOVE my little man. By the way, "I am the walrus. CooCooKaChoo" That caricature of a walrus on his one piece makes me sing that song every time. Your welcome for getting that one stuck in your head. Ha!

Lastly,
And hopefully most obviously,
It's almost Christmas! Yay! I will see you after the holiday.

Wishing you a seriously wonderful Christmas!
Amanda

Making Christmas "Monumental"

Read a couple chapters from Exodus through Deuteronomy in the Bible (or the Torah) and keep a look out for the words like monument, memorial, sign and the like and you may notice that God has a whole lot to say to the Israelites about doing things for a sign or as a memorial. Maybe you aren't to keen on the Bible or at least not what many consider to be the driest passages in the Bible, but I think there is a principle to be learned here. So track with me for a moment.

If you read this passage of Scripture, in addition to words synonymous with memorial, you will also find that the Israelites complain A LOT. God does something major for them like miraculously part the Red Sea and obliterate their enemy and two chapters later they are complaining to the same God. To their credit, while they may sound like major complainers, those two chapters contains the span of 30 days. Not long, but having had terrible bouts of morning sickness, it can definitely take me less than 30 days to get over the miracle of conception and the wonder and awe of holding life in my belly to the point where I loathe pregnancy, my husband, and all the putrid smells that surround me (I exaggerate, but I do definitely begin to complain after 30 days straight of puking.). I suppose I imagine this to be somewhat equivalent to life in the wilderness with limited resources and with the same people day in and day out. However, it seems that in most circumstances the better I remember the blessings and the overcoming of past obstacles, the easier time I have getting through my present circumstances and the easier time I have holding on to Joy. Complaining, in addition to making you terrible company to be around, sucks the life and Joy right out of you.

I think God knew how difficult it would be to not complain when He numerous times tells the Israelites to make monuments, turn a day into a celebration and do things as a sign or for a memorial. He knew they would want to complain. He knew they would need to remember. 

My Christmas tree has become my Monument. When I first got married, I wanted a Christmas tradition that was all my family's own. I decided that every year we would pick out one ornament as a family. It's really a simple tradition, but I love it. Every year, we set out to find THE ornament that best says what the year has been about. Sometimes it's a day trip, sometimes it's just during a mall trip, and sometimes it's found on a family vacation. While the finding is fun, my favorite part is pulling out the ornaments from past years and remembering and sharing with my daughter what each ornament is from. Each ornament has a story. Each ornament is a monument of what God has done for us.

Our first Christmas together, we found our ornament on our honeymoon. It reminds me of the beginning, the first, and my love for my husband. I remember the memories my husband and I made on our honeymoon.

This year's ornament celebrates the biggest event of 2011, the birth our son. We call him Jedi sometimes so Yoda seemed very appropriate. "When 900 years old you reach, look as good, you will not." --Yoda

Everytime I see this ornament I can't help but burst into song "There can be miracles, when you believe... Who knows what miracles you can achieve..." Not the biggest fan of Mariah Carey so this ornament drives me slightly crazy (actually to be more accurate it drives my husband a little crazy, don't know of many men that want Mariah stuck in their head), but it so says what our 2010 was all about. We had wanted a second child so badly but knew we couldn't afford it, nor had much room for it in our tiny studio apartment. God got onto me for not trusting Him with my life, my husband and I prayed and felt like God wanted us to try even though we had no idea how we would afford another child, and a month after the "plus" sign appeared on the stick, my husband got a great job flung onto his lap out of the blue and a month after that the perfect apartment became available. We trusted God not knowing what the future would hold and God did a miracle for us. I think keeping this in mind is what kept me full of joy during the second pregnancy as the toilet and I became close companions for the second time.

I think its so easy to get caught up in life happening: juice stains in carpet, birthday parties, meal planning, and the debate of how to best discipline your child to name a few. I think it's important for our kids and for our own sanity to pause and reflect every now and again. I know I want my kids to know me and who I am day in and day out and the Joy and Love that I attempt to carry with me at all times (or at least most of the time), but I also want them to get that the art of gratitude isn't a just a daily desicion it is also found in the monuments I make... the ways that I set time and items aside for God and His Glory. I have a much easier time keeping keeping Joy and Gratefulness a way of life when I pause every now and again and reflect on the many things I have to be grateful for.

I love that Christmas falls so close to the New Year. For me, it ends up being a season of reflection and gratitude. I love looking back and remembering just as much as I love looking forward to the next year. Perhaps you haven't experienced God like I have, but this girl knows with every fiber of her being that God has been good to her and with much or with less in good times or bad I will be Joyful. I will make monuments of the obstacles I and my family has overcome, the blessings we have received, and pray God gives me a tree with 55 ornaments and great grand kids to tell of God's goodness throughout my life.

Wishing you a MONUMENTAL Christmas!

Happy Hearts and Warm Ears: Fashion Forward Ear Warmers

A while back I came across this tutorial. I fell in love with the idea of having a giant, friendly bow atop some fashionable ear warmers. I decided to try making some!

I made a practice one for me.

And then perfected one for a pajama brunch gift exchange I went to.

I found that one layer of fleece was fairly flimsy and kind of pointless as it doesn't keep one's head very warm. So I added a layer of zebra print on the inside of the second one. I firmly believe one should always make a point to have unexpected fun where no one can see. Life can be such a killjoy at times and it really is too short to not have zebra print hiding out somewhere on one's person.

 Also I found deliacreate's ear warmer to be a bit wide, at least for my head so I trimmed my pattern down by a 1/4" on the top and bottom. I decided to try out flowers instead of bows. I free-hand cut each flower and then tacked them down with thread in the middle of each flower.

These ear warmers are SO CUTE and SO FUN! Thank you deliacreates for posting them!

They are REALLY easy too. While hand-tacking flowers can be time consuming, the actual ear-warmer itself took 20 minutes to cut out and sew together.

They are also REALLY cheap. Solid fleeces are at Walmart for $2.97 a yard. One yard can get you 4-6 embellished, doubled up ear warmers. That's fashion for under one buck a pop! Christmas gifts anyone?!

Please see my next post for what I am planning on doing with these... I am super excited about it! :)

My notes from the project:

• Obvious statement here: fleece is thicker than the average fabric. Do practice on a scrap piece of fabric before sewing to make sure you have your tension setting just right on your machine. I had to adjust mine after almost ruining my freshly cut and pinned ear warmer.
• It took about 40 minutes to make the bow ear warmer. That includes the time it took for me to make the original pattern and goof off in the mirror while project was going to see how it was going to fit. The second one took 20 minutes to make the ear warmer (including the time to change my thread), plus another 40 minutes to cut out and sew on all those flowers.
• Fleece is not the easiest thing to sew on. I had a little trouble rounding the curves with my sewing machine on fleece. On one part it was pretty noticeable, so guess where I put a flower? ;)

Warm holiday wishes!

Kerrington's Christmas

I have a friend. She is one of those people that are instantly disarming. You don't want to put on airs, you don't want to fake it, you can just be yourself. I love people like that. I love my friend!

My friend and me at a women's conference

She is a Champion. Last year I received an email from her. It made me cry. I don't have the email anymore, and she wasn't able to resend it to me. But, I do have her permission to convey the overall message of her email in my own words. (By the way, to avoid confusion, I am writing in my own voice.)

On September 11, 2003, my friend experienced the worst day of her life. She lost her precious baby, Kerrington, only a couple of days old. My friend had and has always wondered what birthdays and Christmases would be like if Kerrington were here. I am sure that more than anything her heart cries out to spend a Christmas with her Kerrington, to experience the warmth, wonder, and love a child brings to this holiday.

Instead of spending her Christmas just missing and just wondering, last year she decided to do something. She realized that, while she may be missing the warmth and love of her daughter, there are those living on the streets who have absolutely no warmth and no love for Christmas. In honor of her daughter, she started "Kerrington's Christmas." Last year, and again this year, she collects blankets, hats, and gloves and then heads out to give them to the homeless.

I don't know if this moves you, but it surely pulls at my heart strings. I love that even though Kerrington's life was short, she gets to make an impact, she gets to love others. I know her momma is missing her love and her touch, but how inspiring is it that my friend is making a way for Kerrington and herself to love and touch the lives of the broken and the down-and-out!? I am proud of you, friend, and inspired by your strength!

In the midst of falling in love with some very fashionable ear warmers and discovering how easy and inexpensive they are to make, I decided to make some for Kerrington's Christmas. I plan on making a batch and then going back and embellishing as many as I have time for. Practical thinking: the homeless need warmth more than fashion. This girl's thinking: How fun would it be to pour love into each piece and let some homeless women feel beautiful and more current than their salvation-army finds?! (By the way, I am not knocking the Salvation Army! They are awesome!) I know after spending time with the homeless that, yes, they need food, shelter and clothing, but they also somehow missed the message of hope that they too are beautiful through the lens of Christ's love.

If you want to see the couple of ear warmers I have made thus far, click here. If you want to help Kerrington's Christmas by way of monetary donation or by way of blankets, ear warmers, hats or gloves, please contact me via email and I will send you the information.

Wishing us opportunities to Love during this season! xoxo

Just an update: Christmas Pictures and "Awe" Moments

Just a little update:

Here's a picture from our family photo shoot. It's not the picture that's going on our Christmas card. I don't want to spoil the moment of "awe" that I at least have when I open my Christmas cards this season with family pictures of my friends and family attached to them. I do not have that moment when I have already seen the picture on their facebook or blog; I just don't. Since not many "awe" moments happen in life once you reach a certain again, I guess I just want my "awe" moment. (Okay I am not anything to "awe" over but I happen to think my kids are.)

I am super proud of the homemade ties and hair pieces, though by this point in taking the pictures Addy's hair piece had been taken off. (Not by me, by her! Good thing Jed's too little to get his tie off...) Fortunately we got some good ones beforehand for the Christmas cards!

Pilgrims and Preschoolers

I suppose it has a lot to do with the way I am wired or the fact that I spent 3 years as a teacher and 5 years as a children's pastor, but something in me can never just allow a holiday to be a holiday. It's always an opportunity to teach my children!

Thanksgiving is no exception. I cannot just allow it to be about eating turkey and spending time with the family. We must learn about WHY we celebrate Thanksgiving.

For Thanksgiving, to me, is more than just a chance to list off our "Thankful For's" and enjoy family and eat. The first Thanksgiving involved a group of people who set off looking for a place to worship God as they wanted, an adventure, or an opportunity to make money. It also involved a group of people who out of the kindness of their heart became the answer to prayers by teaching the Pilgrims everything they knew about the Pilgrim's new home. The Pilgrims sacrificed much for the freedom they craved, they lost much, and at last they found their prayers answered. I love the story. Just a reminder from your 5th grade history books, the Pilgrims lost 1/2 their numbers to starvation and disease. In their bleakest hour, the Indians helped them, one of whom, Squanto, just happened to be able to speak English. They taught them how to work the soil, how to hunt, and how to survive America. The first Thanksgiving was a great big "thank-you" to the Indians by sharing from their bounty, and it was a chance to reflect that even in the face of great loss, God is still good and God still provides. I can be thankful for my abundance, but I can also stand in the face of loss and difficulty and know that God is my provider. With much or with less, I am thankful.

Alright, so I want to pass all that down in one preschool sized bite to my daughter. How do I do that?... Stick puppet show!

I happened to have a pilgrim foam craft set. Addy and I worked on the pieces last night.

Then this morning we made our puppet show back drop and "Mayflower" out of construction paper.

I happen to have metal slated chairs so I taped the backdrop the the chair and put my arms through the bottom opening. Addy watch my show from the other side of the table. Perfect!

I did the show for her. She demanded an encore: "Again! Again!" So I did it again. Then it was her turn. She didn't get the concept of putting the stick figures in front of the backdrop.

She got from my little Pilgrim Stick Puppet Play that they came in a boat for Jesus, the winter was cold, and they ate. They got in a boat, sang "Jesus Loves Me", said "Brrrr, it's cold," cooked, and then pounded their faces into the table as they scarfed their food. My version had much more to it and no "Jesus Loves Me" song in it, but I will watch Addy's re-telling any day... over and over again. (Good thing too, because I may have to watch it over and over again.) PRECIOUS! I am thinking she will be doing her encore for her grandparents and aunts and uncles tomorrow.

Here's my final thought for you:

!

Thanksgiving Traditions: Kite Pie

My fondest Thanksgiving tradition is found during the pie baking. Of course, my favorite tradition would be found there. I do love pie!

It all started when I was around my daughter's age. My mom was busy making pies. I am guessing, only because I now have a daughter of my own, that I was all over her and her pies and asking her a million questions. Perhaps, she, in an exasperated effort to not snap at me, took the leftover pie dough scraps and let me play with them. However it began; when I was a wee pre-school aged kid, we invented "kite pie."

Don't ask me about the name. I was 3 or 4. It's called Kite Pie because I named it, and I had a vivid imagination, and beyond that I really have no clue where I thought that one up. Apparently, I liked kites? It's still the running joke at the Thanksgiving: How did Amanda come up that that name? Whatever. Truth be told, I like family inside jokes, even if they are at my expense (it just gives me permission to pull out of my memory vault other family inside jokes on my siblings and parents.)

Kite Pie is really simple. It's all the leftover pie dough rolled out into something rectangle-ish shaped (perfection is not important). Spread the entire top side with butter, sprinkle with a little cinnamon and a whole lot of sugar, and roll into a log. Pinch at the ends and cut slits across the top. Place on a piece of foil and stick in the oven alongside your pies. It's done when the crust is golden brown.

Seriously, as an adult, I still have to have Kite Pie with every Thanksgiving. For me, Thanksgiving could not be complete without it. Of course, the whole point of Kite Pie is that you can eat it during the seemingly endless and mind-numbing hours of preparation (at least it seems that way when you are a kid... heck, sometimes it seems that way as an adult!). Nothing in this world quite beats the simple goodness of pie crust, butter, cinnamon, and sugar. YUM! And nothing quite beats being able to dig into the baked Turkey Day goodies early when you are a kid (or an adult).

By the way, this has lots of room for variations. The other night during an intense chocolate craving episode, I put butter, semi-sweet chocolate chips, and a little sugar inside my dough... delish! Chocolate craving subdued! I recently visited my aunt's house and she had made beautiful little tartlets with her leftover crust by folding dough over, cutting into squares, and filling insides with jam. A perfect tea or coffee treat!

I am so looking forward to getting into that kitchen and creating Kite Pie with my daughter. Nothing like having your little munchkin help you prepare a family feast (well, if you can keep them occupied, hence the Kite Pie). Our family time doesn't start at the table; it starts in the kitchen. It hurts my heart to think how thankful I am for those two little hands that seem to get into everything, the smile that is constantly covered in the evidence that she has been into momma's baking, and those million inquisitive questions that indicate she wants to be just like me. Joy visits me in my kitchen all the time going by the name of Adelaide; let's hope I don't miss Her out of sheer busy-ness.

So, on this day of Thanksgiving preparations, I am thankful for my mom. Thanks Mom for letting me stand next to you, though perhaps underneath you at times, and helping you bake. I have never gotten over my love for baking and cooking. Pretty sure your ingenious idea of handing off the pie scraps to me is where it all started. I wouldn't be the mom I am today, if you weren't the mom you were and are to me. I LOVE YOU MOM!!!

Happy Thanksgiving to all my friends, family and curious readers!

I would love to hear about your favorite tradition!

DIY Baby Tie

I worked my way through college waiting tables. In addition to being able to stack an abnormal amount of plates on my arms, I also learned how to make ties during my 5 year restaurant stint. The restaurant I worked at mandated ties as apart of the server dress code. While waiting tables I learned that if I had a great conversation piece for a tie, I got a bigger tip (hey a girl's gotta pay her bills). Since ties are expensive, either weird or boring, and silk must be dry cleaned (college girl does not care to afford dry cleaning...I still don't), I started making my own out of fun and funky washable fabrics. I had no clue how to make a tie so I simply dissected an ugly one from my stash and used that as my pattern and how-to guide.

I dug out a picture of me in my tie-making/tie-wearing days. I am cheesing it with one of my favorite co-workers. I think I was 20ish at the time. This is probably my least exciting tie. My homemade stash also included 2 retro prints, a shocking pink solid, a funky paisley print, and a Christmas print. I even made some as gifts for co-workers. When you work around food and come home smelling of chicken fried steak and whipped cream, nothing beats a tie that can be easily washed!

Now the proud momma of a baby boy, I can put my tie-making skills to good use!

This project is fairly easy and fast. The only time consuming part is the blind hand stitching up the whole back of the tie. But... the rewards of putting your handsome little man in a rock-star tie that happens to match his big sister's flower hair piece definitely outweigh the time spent!

Baby Tie:

Fabric: 1 yd. (You will not use anywhere to close to all of it, but because it is cut on the bias you need almost 1 yd. to not have to sew on extra length... you could use less fabric though if you don't mind sewing on added length.)
Interfacing, Medium weight: about 2"x33"
Scissors
Paper
Pencil
Pins
Needle and Thread
Sewing Machine

Note: It took me a little while to remember how I had made ties before, so I made a few mistakes, but you have the benefit of learning from them so that I am the only one that makes them. I may have pictures in this tutorial of what I did even though occasionally they are pictures of what I did wrong.

Make your pattern. I wanted a "skinny" tie so here's my measurements: It's 1 1/2" at the widest part of the tie and 1" at the thinnest part. I figured on my son about 9 inches would be the visible front part of the tie. See pattern drawing to see how I made pattern. I used the super official method of taking my measuring tape and making a mock tie with it on my son to see how long it should be. I actually ended up being short and had to later sew on some length. It ended up being 32" long. My son wears size 6 to 9 mos.

I added 3/4" to either side of tie to be able to fold it over the back side. I should have made one side of tie 3/4" and the other side 1" so I would have had more fabric to work with for my fold.

Lay out your fabric on a flat surface. It is really important that you cut your fabric on the bias. If you aren't familiar with what bias means: Fabric threads are woven so that they run vertically or horizontally. Cutting along this line is called cutting "on the grain." Cutting diagonally, opposite to the grain, is called cutting on the bias. One easy way to do this is to find your corner in the fabric and put the tip of your tie pointing to the corner so that the tie ends up perfectly between either side of fabric.

Use the tip of the tie pattern to cut out a piece for the back of the tie. You can be quirky like me and use a fun accent fabric or you could just use your tie fabric. My dotted line is where I made my cut (don't cut through paper though, you aren't done with your pattern yet).

Use your the "inside" lines of your tie pattern to cut out your piece of interfacing. Time saver: line up your pattern so that one side lines up with edge of interfacing so that you only have to cut on one side.

Follow instruction on interfacing and iron interfacing to backside of tie. Place interfacing where the tie will be after folds are made.

Pin accent fabric to tie so that the "right" sides are facing each other.

Using the interfacing as a guide, sew a straight stitch where the tie begins to come to a point to the tip of the interfacing and to the other side. Straight lines are important or your tie will look funny.

Flip your accent fabric to the other side and use a pencil tip to gently push the tip of the tie out.

Fold side of 3/4" side over the interfacing and iron into place. 1/4 to 1/2 inch of other side and iron. Then fold remainder of side over interfacing (interfacing should not show) and iron into place.

Find a chair, get comfy, get yourself a cup of coffee, for you will now start doing the most time consuming part of this project.

Blind stitch the back of the tie.

A blind stitch is simply a stitch you cannot (or can barely) see. I made a stitch every 1/2" and kept my thread on the inside of the fabric coming up only to make my stitch.

I forgot to take a picture (oops!) but to finish the other end of the tie, I folded 1/4" of fabric over and ironed it in place. Then I pulled the 2 corners together so that the tip is a triangle. I ironed that in place and then stitched it in placed.

Can I just say, that accent fabric is making me very happy. I know that no one can see it; it's only on the underside of the tie, but still... COWPRINT!

Baby Tie is now done!

I can't wait to show you pictures of my handsome little man sporting his tie. :)

Because not everything is perfect in a crafting world, my notes from the project:

• I remember it taking a little while to get the hang of it years ago. And though I made a few mistakes this time, it all seemed to come back to me. It ended up being easy. The stitching up the back took me 30-40 minutes (and I am SLOW)... I forgot to watch the time, but it was 2 feedings. It took me a little time to figure out the pattern and then I had to add some fabric to the end. I have a feeling I could make a tie in 30 minutes plus the time to blind stitch the back if I was to do it again.
• While this project may look complicated, it really isn't. Most of your work is done with scissors and an iron. If you have never done a blind stitch before, it's easy! I would be happy to explain it better if someone needs it!
• I feel like maybe my instructions were not the best; my brain feels a bit foggy. So, feel free to inbox me questions or leave them in comment box. Hopefully the coffee will have kicked in by then and I will do a better job explaining.