Sunday Babatizin'...

"Mom, when will I get babatized?"

You mean, baptized?

"Yeah, babatized. When I am going to be able to get in the water? Do I need to take extra clothes today?"

Two of my nieces were getting baptized after church one Sunday. It had been the talk of our house for a few days, and Gage was very excited.

No, I don't think you need to take your clothes today. You have to be sorry for your sins and ask Jesus to forgive you before you can be baptized. Do you feel bad about your sins and need to talk to Jesus about them?

"No, Jesus hasn't even started on me yet."

I hid a smile.
You do know that one day you will need to tell Jesus you are sorry for your sins so you can be forgiven and go to heaven.

"Oh, yes. I hear it every time Bro. Emmitt preaches. I've not done that yet."

Well, when you do, you can be baptized.

"Ok. I'll get babatized when I pray and ask Jesus to take away my sins. I hope it's not too long."

To some people I have met, religion is an idea that is good for others - just not themselves.

To some people I have met, religion is a once a week visit to a building with a steeple and stained glass windows.

To some people I have met, religion is a chore, a drudgery, an obligation.

To some people I have met, religion is a hardness that doesn't leave room for any mistakes or growth.

To me, religion is a way of life; has been since I was nine.

If you talk to me on Monday (or any other day of the week), my goal is to be the same person you talk to on a church day.

I am far, far from perfect. However, I want to live my life as a Sunday. I want to be consistent, steadfast, unmovable in my faith - which is the cornerstone of my life, the anchor of my existence.

My reason for such diligence is that I want to see our son, our very reason for living on this earth, accept Christ as his Savior. I want him to have the same peace and assurance that his daddy and I have found. I will not stop praying and teaching my little man until I know he has met the Redeemer.

I will be on that creek bank when he is "babatized". I will shout 'Hallelujah' and I will sing 'I Have Decided to Follow Jesus'. I will cry and be happy just like I did when his Daddy visited the creek. I will be thankful. I am holding on to my promise that as for me and my house we will serve the Lord.

L-R   Bro. Nathan, Jason, Bro. Emmitt - Clarkson, KY

My sweet Jason when he was baptized. So thankful I was allowed to be in his life when this happened! 

There is nothing better than a husband who can walk this road with me and be a Godly daddy to our son.

Joshua 24:15
...choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.

Fried Bread for breakfast...

Ecclesiastes 9:7
Go thy way, eat thy bread with joy...

My mom taught me how to cook, southern style. I learned to cook by feel more than I learned to cook by a recipe. I love to bake and to cook. When I am in the kitchen, I am in my own world - where I am in charge. I can sling pots and pans, grease muffin tins, bang spoons, dodge flour clouds and splattering grease. My heart is content.

When I finish, I always have lots of dirty dishes...which my sister can't stand. 'You have all these dishes because you cook so much. Why don't you all eat sandwiches or something?' Well, we could. Then I wouldn't have the pleasure of making my 'concoctions', as Hubby calls them.

So in the midst of crock pots, dutch ovens, iron skillets, chicken tacos, blueberry muffins, and white gravy, I thought I would share one of my favorite breakfast recipes that my mom taught me. She used to make this for my brother and me before school. Slather it with butter and some grape jelly, and it is the perfect unhealthy breakfast that makes me feel all warm inside.

Fried Bread

Ingredients needed:
iron skillet
canola oil
1 cup self rising flour
milk
butter/margarine
jelly, etc.

Heat skillet with a tsp of oil over medium heat.

Meantime, in a small bowl, add enough milk to the flour to make a thinish, pourable mixture.

Pour a small puddle into the heated oil, and spread out with the back of a spoon until batter is a thin layer. When the edges start to turn golden and bubble, flip. Cook until browned. Place on paper towels to soak up extra oil. Or you can drain on a layer of coffee filters. They work as well or even better.

While hot, spread with butter and other good things.

Keep cooking and eating until the batter is gone. It's good, it's fattening, it's artery clogging and it's simply delicious.

Peace in the middle of the mess...

There are times that I think I may not be normal. I mean, the way I do things is a bit backwards, confused, mixed-up, what ever other adjective I care to throw out there.

I love to stay up at night and sleep during the day. Hubs has finally given up on me, and said if I want to clean house at night that's fine, just don't bang the dishes. This works unless Gage is home from school and I can't take a nap.

I don't like to clean house. I tend to let it all pile up, then have a mega cleaning day. Drives everyone crazy but me.

I love to babysit. If I could have a house full of other people's kids, I'd be happy. I get to enjoy them, and then they go home to their mommies. It's like playing Grandma!

I don't like to shop. I'd much rather stay at home and enjoy what I have. I get out once a week to go to the grocery and pay bills. However, I do like to travel. My Jason and I used to take a trip every six weeks - that was pre-son years.

I love to cook. Give me pots and pans, spatulas and stirring spoons, and I am very happy. I don't measure many ingredients...just stir it all up until it "feels right."

I don't like to wear shoes. My feet bones hurt, and have for years and years. If I am at home, I am barefoot, and wear clogs or flip-flops whenever possible. I own a pair of athletic shoes, but only wear them when situations demand them.

I like old-fashioned things. Things like glass doorknobs, splatterware, iron skillets, and my finds of an aluminum cake plate, age-old yellow glass canisters, and a butter churn make me happy.

I wear the same style of clothes almost all of the time.  I dress for comfort. Most of my wardrobe consists of black/navy skirts (dark colors are supposed to make one look thin - haha) and a comfy top. I want to look nice, but am through with vanity.

My poor hair. It's at least half gray. It does it's own thing. And, I find myself running so short on time, that I usually let it air dry during the week. I do a side part, twist it up with a hair clamp on the back of my head, grab my glasses and off I go. When I am not trying to read or see where I am going, I shove my glasses onto the top of my head. Weekends, I will pull out the hair dryer and doody myself up a bit more.

I am forgetful - have always been. I have to write things down or I just go on my merry way without a care in the world. Jason and Gage both are good at reminding me...I am afraid it's only going to get worse as I cruise on through my 40s...ha! 

I am comfortable in my own skin nowadays. Yes, there are times that I still get self-conscious. I am too chubby, I am a procrastinator, I am not very good at alot of things.

But, I am going to choose to focus on the things I am good at.
Things like loving my husband and son so much I could pop!
Like enjoying babysitting my nieces and nephews.
Like cooking chicken and dumplings.
Like writing and taking pictures.
Like getting my son to school or at the bus stop on time.
Like being a friend and loving my friends.
Like being thankful for my many blessings and my salvation.
This is what gives me peace in the middle of the mess.

 Isaiah 26:3
Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.