A Zinger from Mr. Luther

A friend of mine showed me this quote from Martin Luther yesterday. (I know he looks kind of intense in this picture, but hey, the guy started the Reformation. He probably had a lot on his mind.)

"And if we have encountered adversity in our lives, we dwell upon it as much as possible, magnify it, think that no one is so unhappy as we are, and imagine the worst possible consequences. In short, when we are alone, we think of one thing and another, we leap to conclusions and we interpret everything in the worst possible light. On the other hand we imagine that other people are very happy, and it distresses us that things go well with them and evil with us."

Zing! He got me. This is me to a tee, whenever I'm struggling or obsessing over something unpleasant in my life. I find it to be especially true when I am agonizing over my own personal shortcomings and weaknesses - my anxious tendencies, my insecurities and fears, my worries for the future. When I am alone, when I am thinking only of ME, I can imagine all of these things to be so enormous that they begin to feel almost insurmountable. And, I will admit, I begin to look around at everyone else ... at the people who seem to have it all together, who don't appear to struggle at all with the things that consume me. And therein lies the problem, I believe. I ASSUME that they don't struggle because they don't APPEAR to struggle. But I've noticed that when I am NOT alone, when I sit with a friend and share my heart and listen as she shares hers, I am reminded that everyone faces adversity - at different times and on different levels, to be sure, but we are all in this TOGETHER.

Lord, I pray that today You will help me take my eyes off myself. Show me how I can help someone else who is struggling and thank You for this reminder that none of us faces a trial that someone else out there hasn't faced as well.

Bragging Rights

So, the reason I've been gone so long is that I needed to build anticipation and a sense of urgency. I mean look at that thing - a work of fine art cannot be unveiled too casually, you know.

Happy Birthday, Benjamin Daniel Hollingsworth! You are 8 years old and, despite your protests, most of us around here still insist on calling you Benji. You will always be Benji to me - my last baby, our precious thirdborn, the boy who still calls from his bed - "Mom? Cuddle?" - almost every night. (Don't worry, bud, I won't let that get too far.) You have brought our family more joy than I can put into words and we thank God for you.

Hope you enjoyed your hockey party, kiddo! Thanks Uncle Joe and Aunt Beth, for the ice time!

What a Day!

Okay, I've been out of the blogging groove for a month or so now. Don't know what happened to those creative juices, but they were definitely not flowing. Sometimes it takes a mountaintop experience to get a girl back to writing. Sometimes it takes a poopy day. Literally.
I got home at 3:30 from a day of supply teaching the most wonderful grade one class. Seriously, the sweetest little cherubs I've seen in ages. They actually sat in a circle on the carpet when I asked them to and sang the little songs I taught them and told me that I was the best teacher in the world. (When I teach, it's actually all about me - can you tell?) Duncan was at football practice, Emma was babysitting. It was just me and Benji boy. Aaahhhh. I could feel myself relaxing and settling in for a nice quiet evening. I mean, the day was practically over. Time to coast through the remaining few hours til bedtime.
Wrong. Somehow my mother-senses had gone AWOL. Seriously, we all know that life with children just doesn't work that way. It's precisely in the most peaceful moments, the times you let your guard down, that life kicks it into high gear and knocks you on your keister.
First blip on the radar of my perfect day: Benji turns to a limp noodle while practicing the piano because his teacher wants him to do "the wave" with his hands as he plays a staccatto (sp?) song called "The Flute Player and the Bird." My perfectionist child cannot face the cold harsh reality that he might have to practice for more than one day in order to accomplish this. My heartrate accelerates slightly.
Blip #2: One of my other two children (who will remain anonymous in order to protect my own health and well-being) receives the bad news that a dear friend is moving on to a new church and school ... not the best news of the year. Many many tears. Much unhappiness and grief. No desire to hear words of encouragement or wisdom from Mother. Sigh. Heart rate definitely up and a slight flush to my face can probably be observed.
Blip #3: I realize that the dogs (our dog, Toby, plus Charlie, his mom who we're dogsitting for my parents) are still in their crates downstairs in the laundry room. I trot downstairs to let them out. I swing open the laundry room door. I am met by the most concentrated wall of dog-poop-odour that I have ever smelled in my earthly lifetime. (And that's the only lifetime I've had so far.) Let me just say that I've grown up with dogs. I've stepped in my fair share of "piles" over the years - I'll spare you the details - but I'm just saying that I'm no stranger to the more offensive odours involved in dog ownership. Charlie, however, had topped them all. What I found in her crate was beyond anything I've ever had to clean up - human, animal or otherwise.
Blip #4: A phone call to John at work confirms my suspicions that he had totally forgotten to come home at lunch and .... let the dogs out. Huge blip.
Blip #5: I discover more of Charlie's revenge for an 8-hour-crate-day on the carpet downstairs. In more than one spot.
Blip #6: When I go to mix up my carpet cleaning concoction, I realize that I'm all out of white vinegar. Will it make it worse or better to scrub up dog poop smells with apple cider vinegar? Hmmm....this was a deep and vital question for me today.
Strange to think that my seven and a half hour work day felt infinitely shorter than the three hours that followed it at home.
Well, there you have it. My day. I guess I'd better go check on the apple cider vinegar downstairs.

What Takes You Back?

Recently our neighbourhood has been graced by several visits from a fantastically airbrushed, magically musical ice cream van. Yes, you read that right. It's an ice cream van. It cruises up and down the streets in our area, piping out its tantalizing circus music for all the children to hear. It's so funny to watch the kids' reactions because it's a perfect reenactment of my own childhood experience.

"Mom, Dad!!! It's the ice cream truck!!"

"Yeah, I hear the music...it really is!"

"Everybody run! Get your money!"

All three of them go roaring down to their rooms (moving faster than they have all summer, the little rascals) and then fly out the door with coins in hand. As the chief launderer of the household, I'm also sad to report that they are usually in white socks without shoes. As I said, this is perfectly reminiscent of my own ice cream truck years ...with the exception of one little detail. OUR ice cream truck was more technically an ice cream BIKE. It was ridden by a solitary rider dressed in white (many of us girls saw him as our knight in shining armour) and was basically a chest freezer on wheels. Does anybody else remember these things? The music that caught our ears was the simple ringing of the bells ... but those little bells caused quite the uproar when we heard them!

It's amazing how a little thing like an ice cream van can make you feel like a kid again. Will you think I'm weird if I tell you that my heart rate increases a little bit when I hear those words, "It's the ice cream truck!!" ?? I think a lot of it is just watching my own kids enjoy something that I used to find so exciting. Life can be pretty fun sometimes.

How about you? Is there something that "takes you back?" A song? A smell? A place? A book? I have lots of them. I'd love to hear some of yours!

Yummy Recipe!

My kids love tortillas. Not tortilla chips (although they like those, too). Tortillas. Round flat soft taco shells. They like them with almost anything in them - melted cheese, lunch meat and lettuce, pb and honey, hot dogs cut up, refried beans, fajita fixins ... the list goes on and on. It's hard for me to believe that as a kid I didn't even know these babies existed! For us, white Wonder bread was the pinnacle of the bread family!
Anyway, I just tried a new recipe for supper last night. This is always a risky endeavour, as you other mothers know. Four pairs of eyes looked upon the steaming pan in the centre of the dinner table with suspicion and disdain. My family likes to eat familiar yummy things, so I always have to tie a new dish into something they already love.
"What is this, Mom???"
"It's called Cheesy Enchiladas..."
"Cheesy what? What are enchiladas?"
"Are they like chimichangas?" (This from my husband.)
"I don't know because I've never had chimichangas. BUT they're in tortilla shells and they have ground beef and cheese in them SO I'll bet they taste a lot like tacos, which we all already LOVE!!"
After the pep talk, I just started dishing it out. No negotiations, no grumbling ... adventurous attitudes only, thank you very much. Well, they LOVED it! Yippee. Another one I can transfer into my new green recipe book for keepsies.
Thought you might like to try it, too.

Sunni's Cheesy Enchiladas (I don't know who Sunni is - I knew you'd ask, though)
1 lb. ground beef
1 lb. Velveeta cheese, cubed (I used nacho cheese product plus grated cheddar instead)
1 can diced tomatoes
16 oz. sour cream
1/8 cup butter or margarine
1 medium onion, chopped
garlic salt (dash)
salt and pepper to taste
approx. 8-10 tortilla shells, depending how full you make them

Brown meat with 1/2 of onion. Add garlic, salt and pepper. Drain and set aside. In saucepan, mix sour cream and tomatoes. Add butter and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly. Add cheese. Add remaining onion. Simmer 5 minutes on low, continually stirring. Add a portion of the cheese sauce to the ground beef mixture and fill tortillas. Roll tortillas, then place seam side down into greased baking dish. Spoon remaining sauce over tortillas. Bake at 350 for about 15 minutes.

What with the heat wave we've been living with around here, I actually did these in foil on the bbq, just for a shorter time, and they were great. Hope you like 'em!

He Keeps Messing with my Ducks!!

I truly am a thankful person. I should be thankful for we are a blessed family. I live in a nice house with a fenced-in yard and central air conditioning. We have two working vehicles. We have a dishwasher, a fridge full of food and clothes to wear every day. Compared to many people in this old world, my family lives a life of luxury and I know it full well.

Living smack dab in the middle of North American culture, however, can sometimes make it easy to forget about my blessings. I don't always feel as rich as I am! Does anyone know what I mean? My nice house always seems to need an update and the "working" vehicles just recently hit their double digit birthdays. The dishwasher leaves crumbs and crud in the glasses and I've noticed that our clothes are starting to look a little long in the tooth again lately.

Our family, like so many others, lives on a fluctuating income - Dad does sales and marketing and Mom is a career substitute teacher. We both love our jobs and are thrilled with the family time we're able to pull off. If you've ever worked for commission, however, you understand how challenging this lifestyle can sometimes become.

Especially if you're a ducky girl like I am. I like my ducks in a row. Always have and probably always will. Seventeen years with a free-spirited, entrepreneurial husband have rubbed off my sharp corners a little bit, but most often I'm still arranging those ducks .... just ...... so. I like to research, plan, make lists and organize stuff. That's just who I am.

Yes, it's been an interesting journey, this life I'm living. Most of the time I'm really fine - and why wouldn't I be? Like I said, I've got it good and I know it. But every once in a while, when the commissions haven't come in quite on time for the next pay and we're already playing catch-up from that last time when what's-his-face didn't open the invoice when it came in (or whatever!), I get a little tired. A little tired of having to be careful. Of having to say "No" again to something that the kids want to do or buy or attend. Is it always like that? Not at all. But it is sometimes and those are the times I long to get my ducks back in a row.

So I found it interesting in my morning Bible reading as I read the story of God's people wandering around in the desert. He had just finished rescuing them (in a most dramatic and miraculous way) from their slavery in Egypt and was now getting them organized for their trip to their very own homeland! There were a lot of them, though, and they were going to need food for their travels. God provided a rather unique solution to this problem by sending down "manna" from heaven - little white flakes of bread for them to gather from the ground every morning. Cool. God just gave them one stipulation: Only gather enough manna for one day's use. "Gasp!" said all the Israelite duck arrangers (there had to be a few in a crowd that big). If they even tried to save a litle bit of one day's manna for the next day's meal plan, it would be filled with MAGGOTS by the morning.

Why? Why wouldn't God just let them store some up and plan for the future? Surely He wanted them to be industrious and efficient! Surely He wants all of us to be that way! Yes, I think He does ... sometimes. But at the bottom of my Bible page I found an intriguing note from the editors. It read like this:

We instinctively resist a style of life in which it is necessary to depend on God each day to supply our needs. We wish to have supplies in advance so that we can feel independent. God was training the people for a life of faith.

Slam. Right between the eyes for Stephanie Biffany. It's what I needed to hear that day and it's what I've been reminding myself of ever since. God values my faith more than my efficiency or industriousness. He's more interested in walking each day with me and building my dependence on Him than He is in all my attempts at self-sufficiency. If that means He has to mess with my ducks, then He's going to knock them out of line every once in a while. And you know what? I think I'm okay with that. I've known Him for most of my life and He's never let me down. If He says that dependence on Him is more important than my own independence, then I choose to believe Him. He is awesome. He is everything good and perfect and I know I can trust Him. And so can you.

I'm not saying I'll never put my ducks in a row again. I'll just try not to complain when I see His hand reach down to move them around a little.

FYI

Read it. Seriously.