Today in church a lady sang one of my favorite songs. By the time it was over, I was a puddle in the pew. Then, our pastor gave a fabulous message from 2 Corinthians 4:7-11:
7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body.
The bottom line? God wants us to be cracked pots. Scarred, broken beyond mending; and don't try to hide the cracks or cover them up. It is so we can be full of Jesus and He can shine through the cracks. I am broken, cracked beyond mending. I find myself thinking it's for naught. Today reminded me why it is; so He can be manifested through me.
Our pastor's sermons are some of the best teaching I have ever heard. You can find links to them at CapeBibleChapel.org
Oh, the song?
Our Hope Endures
Sung by Natalie Grant
You would think only so much can go wrong
Calamity only strikes once
And you assume that this one has suffered her share
Life will be kinder from here
Sometimes the sun stays hidden for years
Sometimes the sky rains night after night
When will it clear
But our hope endures the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
Let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
How do we comprehend peace within pain
Our joy at a good man's wake
Walk a mile with a woman whose body is torn
With illness but she marches on
Sometimes the sun stays hidden for years
Sometimes the sky rains night after night
When will it clear
But our hope endures the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
Let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
Emanuel, God is with us
El Shaddai, all sufficient
We never walk alone
This is our hope
Our hope endures, the worst of conditions
It's more than our optimism
let the earth quake
let the earth quake
let the earth quake
Our hope is unchanged
I never walk alone. My hope, because it is in Christ, remains unchanged.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Soup & Sandwiches
The best thing about cool weather is the cooking. I love soups and warm, cozy comfort food. Of course, I like warm weather better, but every cloud has it's silver lining.....
Spring is coming soon; I know it is true because the sun was still shinin' tonight at almost six. The days are getting longer and I'm reveling in each extra minute of sunshine.
Regardless, it is still cold out and I can still cook some cold weather food. So, I did. I'm making Shelly's Wild Rice Soup and Hawaiian Sandwiches. The soup recipe will follow, and the sandwich recipe may be found here.
Shelly's Wild Rice Soup
My sister sent this recipe from a friend of hers. It is easy and wonderfully good.
Prepare 1 box Zatarans Long Gran & Wild Rice as directed
Saute: 1 stick butter, 1 sweet onion, chopped, 3 carrots, 1/2 C celery. Add 1/2 lb mushrooms sliced thinly & 1 1/2 C Canadian bacon, chopped.
*I have used chicken and ham, as I don't keep Canadian Bacon on hand. They are great substitutes
Cook until soft & add 3/4 C flour to vegetables. Stir well. Wisk in 2 (26 oz) containers chicken stock. Add the cooked rice. Just before serving add 1 C half & half. Optional: chopped chives on top. It makes a large batch.
This soup is very filling and flavorful. Enjoy!
Spring is coming soon; I know it is true because the sun was still shinin' tonight at almost six. The days are getting longer and I'm reveling in each extra minute of sunshine.
Regardless, it is still cold out and I can still cook some cold weather food. So, I did. I'm making Shelly's Wild Rice Soup and Hawaiian Sandwiches. The soup recipe will follow, and the sandwich recipe may be found here.
Shelly's Wild Rice Soup
My sister sent this recipe from a friend of hers. It is easy and wonderfully good.
Prepare 1 box Zatarans Long Gran & Wild Rice as directed
Saute: 1 stick butter, 1 sweet onion, chopped, 3 carrots, 1/2 C celery. Add 1/2 lb mushrooms sliced thinly & 1 1/2 C Canadian bacon, chopped.
*I have used chicken and ham, as I don't keep Canadian Bacon on hand. They are great substitutes
Cook until soft & add 3/4 C flour to vegetables. Stir well. Wisk in 2 (26 oz) containers chicken stock. Add the cooked rice. Just before serving add 1 C half & half. Optional: chopped chives on top. It makes a large batch.
This soup is very filling and flavorful. Enjoy!
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Parent-Teacher Conferences
The good thing about homeschooling is that you can talk to yourself and claim you are having a parent-teacher conference. Or, you can schedule a date night with your husband in the name of needing a "conference". A parent-teacher conference is a flexible thing in the homeschool world.
Not so in the public school world.
I still have one child in the public school systems. Last night was conference night. I anticipated a night of bad news, given The Big Girl's level of stress the last few weeks. Overall, it was much more pleasant than that.
The music teachers love her, and think she is hard-working and sweet. The history teacher thinks she is doing great and is hard-working. The LA teacher thinks she is polite and hard-working. The Chemistry teacher thinks she is doing great and is hard-working. The math teacher has high hopes because she is so very hard-working. Though the class is very difficult, she'll do fine. Are we seeing a pattern here? Oh, then there are the Spanish teachers who love her, and think she is, yes, hard-working, and has a natural ability in Spanish and should major or minor in it in college. Wow. Then we go to ACT Prep. ACT Prep has two teachers. The first thinks she is doing great. Why the poor grade in that class from a student that primarily gets A's? Hmmm....well....she has almost all A's in my part of the class. Better talk to the other teacher.
And the fun began.
Getting on a merry-go-round and singing at the top of my lungs would have been more productive. The teacher never figured out who my daughter was, and spent the entire conversation lamenting the poor grammar skills of the high school students. Apparently seven out of eight students in her class, after weeks of instruction, still cannot identify the subject and verb in a sentence. So, she is attempting to teach juniors the grammar they should have grasped by third or fourth grade. Eight years of grammar in one semester. For ACT Prep.
Oh, and my daughter? She was the one out of eight who got the questions right. She had no idea she had a poor grade in the class because she has never seen her tests since they were graded. She doesn't know what to work on because she doesn't know what she missed.
I was left scratching my head in wonder and amazement. I'm so thankful for all the other teachers because their reports were consistent and positive. I'm choosing to dwell on them, but I'm left questioning how in the world to help The Big Girl keep from sabatoging her GPA with this class. And I'm looking forward to tonight, when I can have a homeschool-style parent-teacher conference, snuggled up to my husband.
Not so in the public school world.
I still have one child in the public school systems. Last night was conference night. I anticipated a night of bad news, given The Big Girl's level of stress the last few weeks. Overall, it was much more pleasant than that.
The music teachers love her, and think she is hard-working and sweet. The history teacher thinks she is doing great and is hard-working. The LA teacher thinks she is polite and hard-working. The Chemistry teacher thinks she is doing great and is hard-working. The math teacher has high hopes because she is so very hard-working. Though the class is very difficult, she'll do fine. Are we seeing a pattern here? Oh, then there are the Spanish teachers who love her, and think she is, yes, hard-working, and has a natural ability in Spanish and should major or minor in it in college. Wow. Then we go to ACT Prep. ACT Prep has two teachers. The first thinks she is doing great. Why the poor grade in that class from a student that primarily gets A's? Hmmm....well....she has almost all A's in my part of the class. Better talk to the other teacher.
And the fun began.
Getting on a merry-go-round and singing at the top of my lungs would have been more productive. The teacher never figured out who my daughter was, and spent the entire conversation lamenting the poor grammar skills of the high school students. Apparently seven out of eight students in her class, after weeks of instruction, still cannot identify the subject and verb in a sentence. So, she is attempting to teach juniors the grammar they should have grasped by third or fourth grade. Eight years of grammar in one semester. For ACT Prep.
Oh, and my daughter? She was the one out of eight who got the questions right. She had no idea she had a poor grade in the class because she has never seen her tests since they were graded. She doesn't know what to work on because she doesn't know what she missed.
I was left scratching my head in wonder and amazement. I'm so thankful for all the other teachers because their reports were consistent and positive. I'm choosing to dwell on them, but I'm left questioning how in the world to help The Big Girl keep from sabatoging her GPA with this class. And I'm looking forward to tonight, when I can have a homeschool-style parent-teacher conference, snuggled up to my husband.
Monday, February 22, 2010
I'm Not Too Sure About This.....
My sweet children have discovered Skype . The Big Boy was home this weekend, visiting with his friend-that-is-a-girl via Skype.
"You mean we can talk to YOU that way?" they asked their big brother with hopeful excitement.
"Yes, if you get an account."
Thanks, Big Bro.
Really, it isn't so bad as long as I never go near the computer when it is on.
Why?
Well, if you have used Skype, you know the first thing that happens is a flash of "what YOU look like".
Having just crawled out of bed this morning, sipping on my first cup of coffee after a very long night being up with Thing 2, I wasn't prepared. In fact I was truly scared. I thought, "Who the heck is THAT?" Then I realized. Then I started researching surgeons.
Oh, dear. Twitter, texting, calling...all that is great. Because you can't see me! Skype? I don't know if all the makeup in the world will make that tolerable.
"You mean we can talk to YOU that way?" they asked their big brother with hopeful excitement.
"Yes, if you get an account."
Thanks, Big Bro.
Really, it isn't so bad as long as I never go near the computer when it is on.
Why?
Well, if you have used Skype, you know the first thing that happens is a flash of "what YOU look like".
Having just crawled out of bed this morning, sipping on my first cup of coffee after a very long night being up with Thing 2, I wasn't prepared. In fact I was truly scared. I thought, "Who the heck is THAT?" Then I realized. Then I started researching surgeons.
Oh, dear. Twitter, texting, calling...all that is great. Because you can't see me! Skype? I don't know if all the makeup in the world will make that tolerable.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Four-Day Sour Cream Cake
At Thanksgiving, the "hit" of the dinner was a cake that my dad's wife brought. She left some for my family and my husband allllmost refused to share. I thought it may come to blows until I offered to get the recipe. Thus, hope sprang eternal that this may not be the last of this fabulous cake.
So, I called Dad's wife, S, and discovered that she got the recipe from an old church cookbook, and it was originally from my brother's mother-in-law. Aren't small towns grand?
So, in hopes I have sufficiently given credit where it is due, I am sharing this unbelievable recipe with you. It is a cross between a coconut-cream-pie shake and cake. Trust me. Delicious.
I'm planning to have it at the one meal I get to cook for The Big Boy this weekend. Given how the week is gone, it will have to be a Two-Day cake instead of Four, but I'm sure we will survive.
Four-Day Sour Cream Cake
1 butter flavored yellow cake mix
2 C sugar
16 oz sour cream
12 oz frozen coconut (I used regular non-frozen coconut)
1 1/2 C Cool Whip
Combine sugar, sour cream, and coconut. Blend well. Chill 4 hours. Reserve 1 C for frosting. Remaining is to be spread between layers.
Mix cake as directed on package. Bake in 2 (9 in) layer pans. When cool, split to make four layers.
Mix the 1 C sour cream mixture with Cool Whip. Spread first mixture between layers then ice the cake with remaining Cool Whip mixture. Store in airtight container for four days. Can be eaten before, but gets more moist with time.
So, I called Dad's wife, S, and discovered that she got the recipe from an old church cookbook, and it was originally from my brother's mother-in-law. Aren't small towns grand?
So, in hopes I have sufficiently given credit where it is due, I am sharing this unbelievable recipe with you. It is a cross between a coconut-cream-pie shake and cake. Trust me. Delicious.
I'm planning to have it at the one meal I get to cook for The Big Boy this weekend. Given how the week is gone, it will have to be a Two-Day cake instead of Four, but I'm sure we will survive.
Four-Day Sour Cream Cake
1 butter flavored yellow cake mix
2 C sugar
16 oz sour cream
12 oz frozen coconut (I used regular non-frozen coconut)
1 1/2 C Cool Whip
Combine sugar, sour cream, and coconut. Blend well. Chill 4 hours. Reserve 1 C for frosting. Remaining is to be spread between layers.
Mix cake as directed on package. Bake in 2 (9 in) layer pans. When cool, split to make four layers.
Mix the 1 C sour cream mixture with Cool Whip. Spread first mixture between layers then ice the cake with remaining Cool Whip mixture. Store in airtight container for four days. Can be eaten before, but gets more moist with time.
The Longest Month of the Year
Don't let the calendar fool you. Anyone who lives anywhere north of Miami can tell you that contrary to the long-held belief that February, because it has only 28 days (excepting leap years, of course), is the shortest month of the year, for all practical purposes, it is the longest.
The poor football fans are left with nothing to do. Baseball fans are in eager anticipation of the beginning of their season. March madness is not quite here. The sun doesn't shine for weeks on end. The kids are climbing the walls wanting to play outside, but it is so cold they can't last long. The stores and shops are full of bikinis and shorty-shorts while we look at our own pasty white skin and fluffy winter bodies and cringe. Some cling to Valentine's Day as a special holiday, when in reality, most barely tolerate it or even scorn it because we have figured out it is a floral/greeting card induced holiday that just isn't all "that".
If February was any longer, I don't think we could take it.
In our little corner of the world, it hasn't been much better. In the beginning of the month, Thing 1 closed the car door on his thumb. It was ugly. Thankfully, xrays revealed nothing broken, but he couldn't play guitar or piano for two full weeks. Well, we all think he may have been able to, and he may have just milked it for all it was worth. No one knows for sure. Then I got a kidney infection. No one had seen Mom stay in bed for that long, let alone take a nap eight times each day. The bright spot in it all was Disciple Now weekend, where we had a house full of tenth grade boys and college dudes as leaders. They ate a lot. God moved. It was our February time to get out of our schedules and comfort zones and watch God work, which is always fascinating and enlightening. Oh, and sometimes exhausting. Thing 1 and The Big Girl participated in other homes, and we missed them. In the week following when I was to clean and catch up laundry before The Big Boy comes home from school, every spare minute has been at the hospital where Hubby's father has been for nine days now. He went in last week because the eye doctor noticed some abnormalities that led him to check BP. After spending a couple of days in ICU trying to get his BP under control, he was given some shocking diagnoses that led to surgery this week. We are praising God that he is doing well and we are amazed at how God orchestrated the whole thing to discover what was wrong before something really bad happened.
This weekend The Big Boy is coming home. The Things are participating in the Music Festival which has them such bundles of nerves that emotions are raw. The laundry in the laundry room is roughly the height of The Big Boy, and I doubt it gets much better upon his return tonight, but I don't care because I need a hug. Because, you see, as I sit typing this, the message light on the phone is blinking next to me and I know what it is. The soccer coach is letting me know when we first get to sit out in sub-zero temps watching kids kick around a little white ball.
And there is still a week left in this never-ending month.
The poor football fans are left with nothing to do. Baseball fans are in eager anticipation of the beginning of their season. March madness is not quite here. The sun doesn't shine for weeks on end. The kids are climbing the walls wanting to play outside, but it is so cold they can't last long. The stores and shops are full of bikinis and shorty-shorts while we look at our own pasty white skin and fluffy winter bodies and cringe. Some cling to Valentine's Day as a special holiday, when in reality, most barely tolerate it or even scorn it because we have figured out it is a floral/greeting card induced holiday that just isn't all "that".
If February was any longer, I don't think we could take it.
In our little corner of the world, it hasn't been much better. In the beginning of the month, Thing 1 closed the car door on his thumb. It was ugly. Thankfully, xrays revealed nothing broken, but he couldn't play guitar or piano for two full weeks. Well, we all think he may have been able to, and he may have just milked it for all it was worth. No one knows for sure. Then I got a kidney infection. No one had seen Mom stay in bed for that long, let alone take a nap eight times each day. The bright spot in it all was Disciple Now weekend, where we had a house full of tenth grade boys and college dudes as leaders. They ate a lot. God moved. It was our February time to get out of our schedules and comfort zones and watch God work, which is always fascinating and enlightening. Oh, and sometimes exhausting. Thing 1 and The Big Girl participated in other homes, and we missed them. In the week following when I was to clean and catch up laundry before The Big Boy comes home from school, every spare minute has been at the hospital where Hubby's father has been for nine days now. He went in last week because the eye doctor noticed some abnormalities that led him to check BP. After spending a couple of days in ICU trying to get his BP under control, he was given some shocking diagnoses that led to surgery this week. We are praising God that he is doing well and we are amazed at how God orchestrated the whole thing to discover what was wrong before something really bad happened.
This weekend The Big Boy is coming home. The Things are participating in the Music Festival which has them such bundles of nerves that emotions are raw. The laundry in the laundry room is roughly the height of The Big Boy, and I doubt it gets much better upon his return tonight, but I don't care because I need a hug. Because, you see, as I sit typing this, the message light on the phone is blinking next to me and I know what it is. The soccer coach is letting me know when we first get to sit out in sub-zero temps watching kids kick around a little white ball.
And there is still a week left in this never-ending month.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Four Days....and "24"
Four days. I'm on the fourth day of not leaving my home. I'm definitely not the type to stay home two days in a row. Four? I didn't even do that when I had a baby. Nope. There was baseball, work, groceries...any excuse. Snow days? That is simply an invitation to GET OUT. I DEFY the weather to dish up anything that will keep me in. (Maybe that will get us some snow...?) I can't imagine anything that would keep me in for four days. Until now. What has kept me in? Why, it is simple. There has been no reason to leave. That and a mild tummy condition that kept me in the one time I had a reason to get out.....
Anyway. It has been delightful. The laundry is as caught up as it gets. There is ALWAYS laundry because, of course, we aren't exactly going to not have clothes on just so I can get completely caught up. But, I digress. I have cleaned linens this week that actually were soiled during Thanksgiving dinner. That is ridiculous, I know. Believe me, I'm glad it is done.
I've blogged. Twice.
The house is relatively picked up...sort of.....well, I'll vacuum after this. I promise.
My kids have so much school work ready for them they will have NO excuse to waste time on any given day.
And.....drumroll......we still have milk. Normally when NOTHING else works, the milk thing gets me out. I thought ahead. Six gallons may have seemed like a lot at the time, but hey. I'm still here.
On an aside....."24" started last night. I haven't decided how I feel about this season just yet. I found it to be a bit....predictable...when one of its primary strengths is that "24" isn't predictable. I'm forever frustrated by silly things...the first two years it was that Jack couldn't figure out how to turn the ringer off on his phone. He would sneak down the hall, mere feet from a bad guy with a big gun and...riiiiiiiiinnnnngg! How that guy never heard it I will never know. Last night it was the bad guy. Typically when the street is full of people looking at the aftermath of an exploding helicopter on a roof, one won't stroll slong through the crowd talking on the cell about how the guy is dead and now we need to focus on the assassination and move the time up, etc....because...hello? THEY WILL HEAR!!!! The other scene that had me yelling at my tv was when Kim is telling Jack he must stay and help because if he didn't and something happened, well, he just wouldn't forgive himself. This from the person who NEVER wanted him to stay and help. Not to mention that after all he had been through, I'm thinking, yep, I'd be able to live with it just fine. I suppose season 8 wouldn't be so appealing if it was all about Jack taking his grandchild to the zoo and reading Dr. Seuss to her. So, he had to stay.
So, tonight, this last night before I finally venture from my home, I will give it another shot and presumably become thoroughly hooked. In the meantime, supper and vacuuming await me. Enjoy your night!
Anyway. It has been delightful. The laundry is as caught up as it gets. There is ALWAYS laundry because, of course, we aren't exactly going to not have clothes on just so I can get completely caught up. But, I digress. I have cleaned linens this week that actually were soiled during Thanksgiving dinner. That is ridiculous, I know. Believe me, I'm glad it is done.
I've blogged. Twice.
The house is relatively picked up...sort of.....well, I'll vacuum after this. I promise.
My kids have so much school work ready for them they will have NO excuse to waste time on any given day.
And.....drumroll......we still have milk. Normally when NOTHING else works, the milk thing gets me out. I thought ahead. Six gallons may have seemed like a lot at the time, but hey. I'm still here.
On an aside....."24" started last night. I haven't decided how I feel about this season just yet. I found it to be a bit....predictable...when one of its primary strengths is that "24" isn't predictable. I'm forever frustrated by silly things...the first two years it was that Jack couldn't figure out how to turn the ringer off on his phone. He would sneak down the hall, mere feet from a bad guy with a big gun and...riiiiiiiiinnnnngg! How that guy never heard it I will never know. Last night it was the bad guy. Typically when the street is full of people looking at the aftermath of an exploding helicopter on a roof, one won't stroll slong through the crowd talking on the cell about how the guy is dead and now we need to focus on the assassination and move the time up, etc....because...hello? THEY WILL HEAR!!!! The other scene that had me yelling at my tv was when Kim is telling Jack he must stay and help because if he didn't and something happened, well, he just wouldn't forgive himself. This from the person who NEVER wanted him to stay and help. Not to mention that after all he had been through, I'm thinking, yep, I'd be able to live with it just fine. I suppose season 8 wouldn't be so appealing if it was all about Jack taking his grandchild to the zoo and reading Dr. Seuss to her. So, he had to stay.
So, tonight, this last night before I finally venture from my home, I will give it another shot and presumably become thoroughly hooked. In the meantime, supper and vacuuming await me. Enjoy your night!
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