Beyond Our Comprehension

I shouldn't be surprised when the loving-kindness of our Lord outshines the dark places in the world.

Because it happens all the time.

Just when we think a particular situation is bleak, God sends a ray of light, revealing once again how His divine and loving purpose ultimately prevails.

Always!

NO POWER, NO WEAPON, NO ERROR, NO SIN, will be able to overshadow or overcome the loving purpose of our God.

This brings courage, does it not?

Even if it does take us by surprise, because we forgot about how it always happens -- God's faithfulness brings hope...hope to carry on.

This week our family received a fresh understanding of the power of prayer and the enduring power of His love. And He reminded me of a simple truth of his creation: love does not divide, it multiplies. 

A love beyond our comprehension. 

~Becky

Happy Mother's Day? .............. You betcha!

Once upon a time there lived four little girls who grew to be charming and beautiful women; girls who loved each other as friends, but closer; young women, who loved as sisters, but dearer. Each looked out for the other, and so did the men they chose as friends and husbands. Oh, they were loveliness! They were fun and they were brave; they were godly, but real. They were honorable, honest, good and kind. They were my own flesh, but different. They were my daughters. And how I loved them.

My Little Women

An Open Letter to Mom on Her 87th Birthday

(Instructions for Mom: 

Click on the blue title in the email so you can read this online.  It is much more fun!)

Dear Ada Jane,
That chubby little girl you were holding when you were 30 years old -- 57 years ago -- your baby -- the one who is hiding behind the dimpled hand...she will always be grateful for your youthful, energetic, exuberant, smart, faithful, resourceful, clean, cheerful, positive, generous, loving, and God-fearing example of what a woman can do with her life.

(Don't pay any attention when she is a  teenager and says nasty things to you.  She will grow out of that stage, I promise.) 

Today you are eighty-seven!  Happy Birthday!   

Sometime soon, could you please carve a few hours out of your busy schedule, you know:  the mile-long walks, the paper route, the dog training, the computer teaching, and Bible study leading, the teaching of open-hearted 3rd graders at church, the managing of a household and garden...could you please save a few hours to tell your "little darling" the stories of your youth?

Oh, please say yes!

You see, I only know a few of your memories.

I know about the time you were late to school; I think you were about 5 or 6...were you playing with a kitten?  You told your teacher that you had, "run into a dear old friend."  Now that phrase sounds a lot like my grandmother.  Do you think she laughed when the teacher told her about your.... ahem.... 'excuse?' I need to hear more of this story of long ago, when children of this age could walk safely to school.

And your memories of walking home in your teens on wintry evenings, feeling warmed by the light your mother left for you in the window. Please tell me more about the house where you grew up and the people who lived there. 

I remember hearing about your "friend of 40 years," a term you coined that made me want one too.  What did you and she do together all those years? 

These things 

I simply MUST find out!

Will you write them, or shall I?

Oh, here's your birthday present.

You told us not to buy you anything because you have more stuff than you need and don't want more. But you liked this photograph, and so do I.  Since you are a computer wiz, I know you know how to save it to a file. I like the photo at the end of this post, even better.  

~Blessings from your 

"darling daughter."

P.S.  I think Downton Abby, season 3 is over now, but maybe we should also talk about a better time for me to call on Sundays. ;)

Other posts about my mom.
Because of Mom, I
Don't You Dare Leave This World Without Reading This

Watching rain, your last night at the cabin

I'm sharing this post today on 5 Minute Friday, as the topic just happened to be Moms

Afraid of What?

Last evening I cuddled (under an electric throw) in a favorite chair with my 4 year old granddaughter while her mommy fed the chickens at her house a few blocks away, and while my prince picked up pizzas for dinner.

I love warmth.

Cozy is my favorite place.

Looking for me in winter?

This is where I'll be found.

Mommy returned. The pizza arrived with toppings a-glory, served on paper plates (because they are bio-degradable). We filled our bellies and then my prince and Izzy played Mr. Potatohead.

That's when it happened. Izzy asked Mommy to help her turn on the bathroom light switch.

  "You can turn on the switch, Boo," said Mommy.

Photo by rLohr Originals

I look into Izzy's big browns as she pleads with them, again, this time covering her ears. "But, I might turn on the wrong one!"   

The realization vibrates in my head, like a tuning fork!  

THE FAN!  

She is afraid of the sound of the bathroom fan! My heart leaps ... (still under the blanket, mind you.) But my heart gets it.  I know what it is like to be afraid of things that might happen if I hit the wrong switch. In fact I have those feelings every day. (I was born two weeks late because I did NOT want to leave the womb. These tendencies start early and stay put!)

I assign Papa, AKA my prince, to turn on the light for Izzy.  (Administrative skills, here.)

The evening concludes.  Papa is at the door, ready to see the girls home. (I make sure Izzy has a warm coat to wear.)  Papa informs the girls that in our day, we used a real potato to play Mr. Potatohead.  Mommy makes a face. (When he says this, he looks right at me... and our earlier conversation about recording our memories of childhood replays in my head.) 

"See," he says, I-told-you-so's darting from his blue eyes, "That's why we need to write this stuff down."

(That's me, under the blanket, behind Mr. Potatohead.)

This morning I awaken.  Warm under blankets. Praying.

"God, you know me.  You know everything about me.   I DON'T know what to do with the next part of my life. You do! "

ABBA Father, please turn on the right switch. 

Joining the Five Minute Friday gang, where a bunch of bloggers freewrite for 5 minutes, unedited, on a given topic. Today's topic is AFRAID.  click on the link if you would like to read more stories about this word. Go ahead...don't be afraid :)

Remember "This Moment"

A new Saturday tradition: 

sharing a moment from the previous week that touched my heart, gave me pause, or caused a change.

This idea was inspired by my friend, Sheila, at farmhousewife.

~Blessings

Spinach Bread and Sewing Lessons at Camp Mimi

Each Monday I have the honor and pleasure of spending an entire day with the daughters of my daughters, a second generation of beautiful "little women. "

Today at "Camp Mimi" we made crock pot cauliflower soup and 1-2-3 Spinach Bread. Then we practiced sewing on my vintage Singer -- the very machine I threaded as a young girl --  back when I could see the teeny-tiny hole the thread goes through.

As my contribution to the Farm Chick Chit Chat Bread Bake-off, I'm sharing the "bread" recipe we made today.  It is from Suzanne Sommer's book,  Fast and Easy  Actually, it is not bread, per se. It is a bread substitute for folks limiting their carbohydrate intake; and since it contains absolutely no flour, it is also good for people eating a no-gluten diet. My 13-year-old grand-daughter will demonstrate that spinach bread can be made from three ingredients in less than a half hour, including bake time.

Here goes:

("Variation: To make a whole loaf of this bread, triple the ingredients and pour into well buttered loaf pan. Place pan on baking sheet and bake for 1 hour and 15 minutes at 350 degrees. A whole loaf will yield 12 slices. Use what you need and ; wrap well and freeze extra slices or loaves.")

~Enjoy

Linking with the wonderful:
 Deborah Jean's Farmgirl Friday Blog Hop
This Mind Be in You Farm Girl Friday Blog Fest
My Simple Country Living Blog Hop

"Forever" Cookie Ornaments

I have cookies in my house that are 20 years old. And they don't look a day older than Monday. Here is one of them.

  

Here is another one.

 

These 20-year-old cookies are made from gingerbread. I have dozens of them hanging on our tree and a garland in our kitchen.  If you want to make some, simply make the cookie recipe on the box and then let them dry out.  Don't forget to punch a few holes for hanging. 

We also have cinnamon ornaments that are decades old. This year I decided to make more. So I invited a few of the peeps who helped me make the first ones, plus a new generation, to a luncheon of cucumber sandwiches, pears, and coffee stirred with candy canes. Before I share the recipe for cinnamon ornaments, I thought I'd give you the recipe for cucumber sandwiches.

All you need is one cucumber to one package cream cheese and 3 cloves (more or less) of garlic.

Peel the cucumber and remove the seeds like this:

Blend the cream cheese. I use a small food processor. Grate and drain the cucumber and add it a little bit at a time to the cream cheese, Then add the garlic. I use my garlic press. Now you are ready to serve. Cucumber spread is great on croissants or crackers; but I served it on thin, everything bagels.

Then we got busy on our cinnamon ornaments.

They are easy to make, and only require two ingredients.

Cinnamon and applesauce. That's it!

The recipe I used called for a 4 oz jar of cinnamon and 3/4 cup of applesauce. We doubled it, so we used 2 cups of cinnamon and enough applesauce to make a stiff, and fairly dry dough, making 3 dozen "cookies."

Roll it out to about 1/4 inch thick and make your shapes with cookie cutters. Sprinkle cinnamon on your rolling surface just like you would use flour with a pie crust. We used straws and toothpicks to make holes for hanging. Then bake them in an oven at 150 degrees until dry, turning once, about an hour on each side.

I have to say...warn... proclaim that when you bake them, your entire house will smell like CINNAMON!

Once they are dry, it is time to decorate.  I used paints and glitters from Michael's and made the ties with raffia and jute.  I've only done a few so far..

They looked so pretty on the paper plate, waiting to be painted.

They inspired photo art.

Cinnamon ornaments are fun, easy, rustic, and they make great package tags. And, as I already pointed out, they last "forever." 

Don't forget to date the back!

Look at how my 4-year-old granddaughter decorated this generation of gingerbread men!  Sooooo adorable!  

I have another treat for you.  

At Farm Chick Chit Chat, my friends and I are having a virtual Christmas Cookie Swap.  Click on the link and you will find many wonderful recipes, starting 12-15-12.

Blessings to you and yours this holiday season. May God fill your home and your heart with the sweet aroma of love and memories that last forever! 

The Object of My Boast

The title for my blog...I know...it is puzzlingly long and odd to some; to others, it may appear a boast. 

~

My birth father was a public figure. He appeared on TV and Radio, daily; he narrated films that I would watch in school; he authored a book. Everyone in town knew his name, his face, and his voice.

When I was 10, he walked out on my mom, two sons and two daughters.  I only saw him in person three times after that.  But still, whenever I was introduced to someone for the first time, they would hear my name, they would look at me and ask:

 “Is so-and-so your father?”  What do you say to that?  What would YOU say? I even looked like him.

I said yes, always wondering if they were going to ask me about him...things I couldn't answer.

I didn't know him.  Sure, he could be seen on the TV and heard on the radio every day!  But I didn't know him.

Looking back, I can see the void he left in my life.

When I was 30, I met the King of Heaven and was adopted into his family. A few years later, while driving my car -- just a regular kind of day -- He spoke to my heart, saying,

 "Do you know that you trust those strangers coming at you in those cars, more than you trust me?"   

I didn't know it then, but He was about to teach me to trust Him in a way I would never have chosen. My prince would be out of work for one long year. The cupboards would be bare, and then filled full and overflowing. The house would be almost lost, then saved at a reduced payment. The mail would bring perfectly timed gifts. Oh, I could tell stories of that year!

Like my real father, my adoptive Father is a public figure -- almost everybody knows who He is. Everyone on earth has viewed His gallery of artwork. Some know His voice. He authored 66 books. But, unlike my earthly father, He has promised never to leave me, never to leave a void.  All I have to do is Trust and Obey Him. And He has shown himself to be trustworthy.

When asked, I can tell LOTS and LOTS about my adoptive Father! And the older I get, the more I trust him; and the more I trust, the more I follow his instructions; and the more I follow his lead, the more I look like Him and the less I look like my other dad. 

Does the title make sense now?

I admit -- it IS a boast! (I could never boast about the other dad.  He wasn't worthy of my boast.) My adoptive father wants me to boast about His deeds, His love, His faithfulness! He is boastworthy! ( new word!)

“...but let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,” declares the LORD.” Jeremiah 9:24

On this first day of the month of Thanks-Giving, I give thanks to God for the Grace he has shown me, the Faithfulness he has proven, the Love he bestows. 

Thank you, Father!

Our Soul Purpose

nineteen  hundred and seventy nine 

my best friend

agreed to be my husband

i said, let's get married

jim said, okay

his mom was sick

we went to see her

i said, tell her we're getting married

and he went into his mother's room,
where lilian lay in her earth-suit,
the one she was about to leave behind
she knew she was close to heaven's gate

she thought of her wedding and engagement rings,

 she offered them to him,

he said, okay.

i was in her kitchen washing dishes

he approached and said,

beck, you want this?

and he handed me the ring

i said,

okay.

we didn't know then

what we know now

we didn't know that we were agreeing

to share a life-long friendship

that we would both turn to Jesus

as our savior

that we would bring four beautiful girls 

into being.

...thirty three years later

we don't know what our future on earth will be

but we do know

we're part of a plan

we have a soul mate

and a soul purpose

together.

and it is much more than okay
jim

i loved

you then

you were handsome and funny

i love you more now
for more reasons than i can count or express

happy anniversary!

days 5 and 6

I'm Old / I'm New To This

 31 Days of Inspiration / Day Two

When my youngest child was about 3, I used to look at her and say: 

"You are so cute! If I could bottle your cuteness, I'd be rich!" 

(Some day, she may wish I had figured out the secret.) Ever since the beginning of time, people have looked for a way to preserve themselves. 

Did you know that your skin renews every 30 days?

Yep.

Every 30 days, the world sees a whole new you.

...but the way you look changes over time.

We age.

...and it doesn't go on forever...

On day two of my quest for a month inspiration, I was a part of an interesting discussion about age. The women in the discussion ranged from 21- 62. Some young women said they were old souls; some older women said they were young on the inside. What great perspectives! But the truth is...

the truth is...

We are all aging. And in the process we are all contributing our uniqueness to the people around us. Every day you and I are offered the opportunity to use the stuff of life to grow, to offer our lives to the living.

This is love: the surrender of self for others.

Now about the Pickled People. My very artistic sister made the person pictured above. She crafted her from a stocking, some fluff, two beady eyes, some blush -- and put her into a baby food jar. Yesterday, I opened the jar to clean and dry it out, because some moisture had made its way inside. My older self pondered the note that was folded in there for over 30 years:

What a great promise!

But the truth is...

...the truth is this old gal in a jar has absolutely NOTHING to say.  For all the years she's been in that jar, she has only been cute; she's only stayed cute.

I'm not always sure what to do with this new/old skin; I'm still getting to know this new/old person in the mirror.  But one thing I do know...

I have something to say. I can listen to the people I encounter and I can share my thoughts with them. I can pray about their sorrows and offer solutions to their problems. Why? Because as this skin has been renewing and aging every 30 days, I have been learning about life and living.

So the inspiration I received on day two is simply this:

Emily at 3 ish.

When is it time to realize that life is short, precious and fleeting?  

Now.

When is it time to stop growing, learning, sharing, loving?

Never.

Emily and my prince, now.

Linking up with dearabbyleigh
and The Nesting Place / 31 Days