We will be happy...

Hebrews 10:24 KJV
And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works

Why is it to so hard for us to just encourage one another?
When did just living turn into a personal competition?
What made us into snippy women who cut each other up with our words?
What gave us the reason to make others feel bad so we feel better?
Who gave us the right to make someone else cry?
Who do we think we are, to belittle others just because they have a different way of doing things?
When did we develop the thinking that just because we have some material goods, that we are better than those who struggle?
Who told us that having a totally natural birth makes us superior to those who love epidurals?
When did we lose our empathy for others?
Why do we tear each other down?
   Just for having another opinion.
   Just for liking different food.
   Just for having a different favorite color.
   Just for liking a van instead of truck.
   Just for shopping at one store instead of another.
   Just for liking to be early instead of late.
   Just for loving a donut.
   Just for being thin.
   Just for carrying around baby weight for 20 years.
   Just for being who we are.

I'm not talking about sins. I'm not talking about illegal activities. I'm not talking about things that adversely affect other's lives.

I'm talking about being sarcastic. I'm talking about being rude. I'm talking about being mean.

There is no room for that in a tribe of women.

My child attends public school. One of my close friends home schools her children.
I love to cook and grocery shop. One of my close friends eats at a restaurant almost every night.
I have a friend who loves to spend and shop. I like to shop and look; it's hard for me to spend.
I have a messy craft room that spills over into other parts of the house. One of my dearest friends doesn't even sew enough to put on a button.
I have a friend who utilizes reusable shopping bags. I take those free plastic ones.
I procrastinate and work at the last minute. My friend has a list and plan for everything.
I have one child, and no desire to add another. Many of my friends are moms to several children and would welcome even more.

We are all different. We have backgrounds and heritages, traditions and cultures, convictions and beliefs that shape us.

We have different goals and priorities. Does that make me a better woman? Does that make me a better mom? It makes us different. Varied. Not the same.

My niece asked me why her eyes were brown. Her sister's eyes are blue. Mine are green.
I explained that everyone is different. What if everyone looked like each other? What if everyone had blonde hair? What if everyone had brown eyes? What if everyone was tall or short? What if we all drove white cars - no red trucks or gray vans? What if everyone had a dog for a pet and there were no cats or rabbits or sugar gliders?
"Oh, that would be really boring", she said. Yes, it would, I agreed

So, when we learn to truly love.
When we learn to truly forgive.
When we learn to truly pray.
When we learn to truly uplift.
When we learn to truly support.
When we learn to truly grieve.
Only then will we learn to truly live.
And we won't be boring. We will be truly happy.

July 4th...

Yesterday was Wednesday, July 4^th. Last night was July 4^th. Independence Day. Patriotic Pride. Love of County. God bless the USA. Let the flag wave high.

We went to the fireworks tent on our way to church last night. I would have been quite content to not light money on fire. However, we made the decision several years ago to add a boy to our family. We now do a lot of things we used to not do.

Driving through town on the way home, fireworks were popping and booming. Smoky haze was hanging low over parking lots and buildings. Vehicles and gaggles of people meandering everywhere. Drive-thrus backed up to the point getting a snack was a chore.

Once we arrived home, Gage and Jason and I stood outside in the sweltering humidity with the night bugs. And lit firecrackers. Since Gage likes noise more than show, we had an arsenal of bottle rockets and Black Cats. Soon our front yard was cracking and popping and the white smoke swirled around us. The dog howled a time or two, and I heard the excited chatter of a pre-teen as he dug through a crinkly sack of assorted dollar bills aka fireworks.

The pops and whistles, bangs and haze made me smile last night and will make me smile tomorrow night. From our neighbors across the creek, I heard racket off and on all night, and will for days to come. Sure, I could be irritated that they are making noise...that we have to make double sure the dog's pen is secure and then at random times we will be shook out of our shoes at 2am by a rambunctious who makes noise just because they can.

But, those pops and booms could be real artillery and the slight irritation could be legitimate fear. The whistles of bottle rockets could be the droning of war and the screams of excitement could be my own...mixed with sheer panic as I gather my family around me.

Because of a bloody price that has been paid, we are free to loudly celebrate...on the 4^th, the 5^th, the 10^th and even the 31^st. We can watch the stars and sit on front porches without fear. I can watch my son scurry around the yard with a flashlight and be glad he isn't hunting for a place to hide or worse yet, be carrying a man's load of war.

Because of the bloody price that has been paid, we are free to gather, eat watermelon, drink iced tea and enjoy our southern roots. We can be thankful. Ever so thankful. Ever so grateful. And some noise for the month of July is a very small price for me to pay.

Deviating from the original...

Believe it's time to go to the grocery. I'm goggling ingredients-on-hand to figure out what I can cook. No cheese. No coffee creamer. No veggies. No fruit. No rice. I do have a pound bag of frozen chicken breasts. And bacon. So...last night I dug around and found enough stuff to cook a dinner. It wasn't as lean as those nights where we ate egg sandwiches for three days or hot dogs with a piece of cheese, but will be getting pretty close if I don't stop by the grocery.

I tried a new recipe. I had no shredded Monterey Jack cheese, so I used the slices of Swiss that was languishing in the back of the fridge drawer and went heavy on the grated Parmesan...the kind that never goes bad and lives in a plastic jar. No Ranch dressing mix, so I used Ranch salad dressing out of the bottle. By the time I finished, the only thing in common with the recipe I started with was the chicken and bacon.

So, in other words, I just used this recipe as a "idea" and then went with my own concoction. Or as the hubs says, "you deviated from the original". And I find myself doing that quite often, as I love to cook and get bored with the same dinner again and again.

As I was sitting here this morning, drinking my coffee (no creamer, so I am using the last of my kid's chocolate syrup and milk cause I can't get down as much as I need when it's black) and reading my Bible, I realize that many times life doesn't turn out the way I expect it to. The end result isn't predictable and sometimes not even fit to eat when I deviate from the original recipe. I am sure that the dinner we ate last night tasted NOTHING like the dinner that the original recipe produced. So, if I want my life to turn out to be what my Heavenly Father intended, I need to adjust myself to fit the recipe God made for me. Things will turn out much better if I just go by what he's laid out for me. Instead of deviating along the way. When I've messed life up, it's not nearly as easy as throwing out a meal and serving everyone cereal in fancy bowls. I can't rewind a day, week or month that I lost because I "fixed" something I should have left alone. My prayer today is for the Lord to help me adjust even the smallest detail to his will. Pray for His direction and guidance. I am not only living for myself, but for my family. My husband. My son. And I can't afford for them to go without what I am to be providing. So, here is the recipe I ended up with.

Deviated Ranch Parmesan Chicken 400 degree oven/20-25 min or until chicken is done 9X9 pan 2 Chicken breasts, trimmed and cut into cubes 2 Tablespoons liquid Ranch dressing 4 Tablespoons of sour cream 1/3 cup grated Parmesan (plus 1/4 cup for topping) Salt/Pepper and other seasonings of our your choice Three slices or shredded cheese of your choice (I used Swiss) Six slices pre-cooked bacon 1/2 Tblspn Olive oil

Preheat oven to 400. Coat baking pan with the olive oil. Using a mixing bowl, combine chicken, Ranch dressing, sour cream and 1/3 cup Parmesan along with seasonings. I use a Smokey Mesquite Pepper seasoning in addition to the traditional salt/pepper. Pour into pan. Cover and bake until chicken is done (internal temp of chicken needs to be 165 degrees). Should be approximately 20 minutes. Take off cover, put on cheese and bacon. Return to oven and cook an additional 5 minutes until cheese is melted and bacon is crispy.

It was a bit juicy, but that "gravy" was good on green beans and potatoes.

More than enough...

2 Samuel 22:29-33
For thou art my lamp, O Lord; and the Lord will lighten my darkness.
For by thee I have run through a troop: by my God have I leaped over a wall.
As for God, his way is perfect; the word of the Lord is tried: he is a buckler to all them that trust in him.
For who is God, save the Lord? and who is a rock, save our God?
God is my strength and power: and he makes my way perfect.


There are times I get weary.
There are times I get tired.
There are times I feel whiny.
There are times I am discouraged.
There are times I am overwhelmed.
There are times I have questions.
There are times I have dark days.
There are times I have obstacles.
There are times I have issues.

Then I read verses like these.
There won't always be sunshine, but He is my guide in the darkness..
There will be trials and fight for survival. He gives me the ability to outrun it.
My strength is weak and putting one foot in front of the other is often a chore. He gives me power I never knew I had.

I have a rock in my life, which has become the foundation of all that I do. Am I perfect, no? However, with God, I will have the strength to run and leap.
I will be able to hide behind his shield and find rest.
God is my strength and power.
He makes my way perfect.
That is more than enough.