Bandwagons Aren’t Bad

I mentioned that I am slower to get on certain bandwagons these days. This isn’t to say that I’m not on any bandwagons. I am.

1. The beauty of biblical femininity

2. The gospel’s relevance to the daily life of a Christian woman

3. Men should never wear skinny jeans. ever.

There are women I respect who have wonderful bandwagons. I think most bandwagons in the Christian Mommy Blogosphere are well-intended. Many of the mommy blogs have a specialization because these capable gals are using their blog to make money through advertisers and product reviews, or they are gaining exposure in hopes of publishing material. It makes sense that a blog on frugality would have tons of posts about how the author saves money on her grocery bill. If she isn’t passionate, enthusiastic, and persuasive about being frugal, her blog isn’t going to be very successful.

I also think bandwagon blogs are a wonderful outlet for sharing God-given gifts and talents. Are you good at decorating? Cooking? Creative parenting? Writing? By all means, share. Do you have special training in prenatal care, health and nutrition, educational techniques? By all means, share. Are you learning how to be frugal, eat healthy, run a marathon? Please share.What a wonderful inspiration to see God’s grace displayed with variety and beauty through the gifts, talents, and efforts of Christian women from all over the country.

It is so wonderful to read about how Christian women who are excited about  expressions of biblical womanhood. Where this can go wrong is when we assign moral value to practices that aren’t clearly commanded or prohibited in scripture. One danger is that we can feel unnecessary guilt when we aren’t able to live by a certain practice. Another danger is we can look down on others who don’t adopt our same practice. Those dangers are two sides of the coin of self righteousness.  Either danger keeps us from humbly appreciating the work of God in each others’ lives.

I want to get on the bandwagon that loves to encourage other ladies, especially young moms, in their often-very-hidden pursuit of God and His will for them.  I want to be able to point out subtleties of grace that a young mom may not see in her own life while her house is a mess and she serves PBJ’s for dinner, again. I also want to be challenged by the bandwagoneers in areas where God may be calling me to grow. It is wonderfully humbling to see another woman doing what I cannot do because I am not as godly, gifted, or capable; but it is also good to be inspired to try harder or try something new that may be a good fit for me and my family in the season of life we are in. So while I don’t think I’ll be raising my own chickens, clipping coupons, or having the children memorize Westminster Catechism this year, I will be inspired as I see the grace and beauty of the One who is at work to will and to do for His good pleasure (Phil 2:13) in the lives of Christian women everywhere.

 

Getting Older = Getting Off the Bandwagon

As of yesterday, I’m 39 years old. I’m not “old” yet, but I’m definitely getting older. And while I’m not crazy about the effects of aging on my face and body, I have to say that so far I don’t mind having the number climb upwards. I’ve noticed a few things about getting older. My hair is getting thinner, and lines on my face are getting deeper.  But one thing I’ve noticed lately is that I don’t bandwagon as much. When I was younger, I chose to get passionate about all kinds of things. I would throw myself into peripherals: scheduling my babies, home organization techniques, homeschooling philosophies and practices, once-a-month cooking, you get the idea.  I thank God that the blog world did not exist when I was a young mother or I would have been sucked into a whole slew of other things:  simple, frugal, green, and crunchy. These are good things, don’t get me wrong, but as a younger woman, these things would have crushed me. I would have made the youthful assumption that it might just be possible for me, the ordinary mother, to do it all (and I would have assumed that everyone else was doing it all – and trust me, they aren’t). I might attempt it, but would surely come crashing into the wall of my limitations. As I have lived a little longer I’m learning what is really worth my time and energy.  I’m basing this on a more accurate estimation of myself, and my personal set of circumstances. As I get older, I am slower to step on anyone’s peripheral bandwagon. That’s one good thing about getting a few years behind you.

I have a ton more to say about young women and bandwagons, but I’ll save it for a future post. I think I might be bandwagoning against bandwagons. hmmm.

 

One Big Tangled Mess

Maggie’s hair, that is. Imagine rather fine but abundant hair that is tight ringlets in some places straight in others and you have my girlie’s hair. Being the only girl after a string of three very boyish boys, my girl has had hairdo’s since a little tiny whisp was long enough to make into a spiky little pigtail. The older she gets, the harder her hair is to make look presentable. She wants it long, and it is very pretty long hair.

So I must ask all of you hair-doing ladies out there, what do I do with this hair? What products help? How do I get the tangles out without as much pain? What would you do, or have you done with your daughter’s or your own unruly hair? If you are a curly-headed gal, do you get the tangles out or put some product in it, scrunch it, and call it a day?

And by the way, isn’t my tousle-haired girl a beauty?! I love that face. and that hair!!!

 

 

Two Recent Discoveries

our first fire

1. Stove popped popcorn (as opposed to microwaveable).  Whenever someone would refuse to buy microwave popcorn and choose to do it the old-fashioned way, I would do the equivalent of an internal rolling of the eyes. I mean, why would you complicate something that is so easy and cheap? I am happy to humble myself and say to all of my non-microwaving-popcorn-popping friends, that I now understand. completely. I made popcorn over the stove last night (after having it first at my friends the Joyce’s house a couple of weeks back), and though I’m not ready to purge our cupboards of the easy microwaveable stuff, I will be popping on the stove a lot more from now on.

2.  Real wood burning fireplace (as opposed to the gas, flip-of-a-switch kind). Have you ever heard someone who is committed to a real wood burning fireplace talk about it? They go on and on with the smell, the sound, the beauty and variety. These are usually the same people who gasp in horror at the idea of an artificial Christmas tree. You know who you are. Jimmy. Anyway, I have been blessed with fireplaces in the last three houses. The first two were gas. I loved, and stubbornly supported the wonders of flip-of-the-switch fire building. It seemed just our speed, Jason not being an outdoorsy type. At all. So after last nights inaugural real-wood-fire in our new house, I am again happy to humble myself and say I was wrong. I love a real wood fireplace, with the smell and sound and variety of flame patterns.

So I just want to say I’m sorry to all of you stove top popping, real wood fire burning people out there. I’m sorry that though I may have been smiling and nodding on the outside, I was rolling my eyes on the inside. I’m sorry that I didn’t listen to you, until now. You were right. I was wrong.  But for the record, I still love my box cake mixes and artificial Christmas Tree.

 

Caramel Apple Cake

I found this on Allrecipes in search of something like Briana’s apple cake recipe.

It is delicious! A wonderful dessert for autumn.

3 eggs
2 c. sugar
2 tsp. vanilla
1 1/2 c. oil
1 c. chopped nuts (we don’t include nuts because some of my guys are anti-nut)
3 c. flour
1 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. salt
4 apples, peeled and chopped

Mix eggs, sugar, vanilla and oil in bowl. Mix flour, soda, cinnamon and salt. Add apples and nuts to dry ingredients. Mix all together. Pour into well-greased Bundt pan. Bake for 1 1/2 hours at 325 degrees. Cool for 15 minutes.

CARAMEL SAUCE:

1/2 c. sugar
1/2 c. brown sugar
1/2 c. butter
1/2 c. whipping cream

Bring to boil. Serve over slices of cake.  (I drizzle it over the cake and then have a little serving bowl with a spoon for folks to add more to their slice).

confessions part 2

Here is an excerpt from part 2 of the post i wrote for the Sovereign Grace Pastor’s Wives blog:

Phase 5: This is much harder than I thought it would be

Over time the comfort of ordinary rituals, and the exhilaration of being part of a new adventure faded. Once the blur and novelty wore off, I found things that used to be second nature, gradually harder to do. I wasn’t curled up in a dark closet in the fetal position or anything, I just felt an over-arching malaise. Sometimes it was hard to tell if I was physically tired, sad, or just plain lazy. Everything from getting dressed and presentable in the morning, to routine housework, or even just going out of the house felt very hard. As a result, my home was less tidy than usual, my day to day appearance more -eh hem- organic than usual, and I felt tempted to be isolated rather than enjoy fellowship with others. What was it? Was I depressed? Was I mourning? Was I just being lazy and self indulgent? Perhaps all of these things- I don’t know, but what I do know is that God used this season of my life to humble me and teach me greater dependence on Him.

Looking back, I think there were several things that contributed to this miserable season of my experience. One factor was that while I fully anticipated the pain of leaving my beloved family (which was still more painful than I expected), I totally underestimated the pain of leaving my church family. I missed my church in Maryland. I missed the comfort of being known and knowing others around me. I missed well-established biblical fellowship. I missed my staff wives growth group. I missed my role in the women’s ministry. It was hard to hear about life moving forward in Sovereign Grace Church without being part of it. Another factor was the siren songs of self pity and self indulgence. There was a subtle (or not so subtle) feeling that hey, I just did something really hard and painful so I’m entitled to comfort/console/reward/distract myself with food, phone calls, and Facebook. Living such an indulgent life is depressing. Obviously, and I know this – I’m a pastor’s wife for crying out loud – there was no comfort, consolation, reward, or escape found in these things. There was only the downward spiral of failure and guilt. I have been well taught and know that “the path of duty is the way of safety” but I wandered from that path, gave myself a pass on a lot of my duties because I was grieving, and the result was that I was more miserable.

My husband had the difficult job of being compassionate and understanding, but not letting me continue in this downward spiral. Jason was extremely patient, but challenged me as well. Part of his leadership included constantly reminding me of various aspects of the gospel, praying for me, supplying me with good materials to read or listen to, sending me to the local coffee shop to get vision for my life as a wife, mother, and homemaker. But his leadership also included extremely practical things like holding me accountable to limit my time on the computer (for a month I only turned it on during weekends), me going on the South Beach diet to break some unhealthy eating habits (Jason didn’t suggest the diet. He’s brave, but not stupid), and my incorporating exercise into my week (jazzercise – and yes, I’m still looking for that perfect set of coordinating leg warmer/sweatbands ). Within a month I started feeling much better. These things seem so unspiritual, but I think because doing them required such dependence on the Holy Spirit, such brutal battle with my flesh, that I really saw the benefits in other areas of my life that required desperate, dependent self-control. I can’t help but adding that I was truly surprised that a huge spiritual emphasis God had for me during the first year of my relocating was the need to cultivate self control. Whether it was self control over unhelpful thought patterns, the use of food or entertainment for wrong reasons, or reigning in emotions and feelings, I discovered (and continue to discover) that self control is indeed a wall of defense particularly during times of emotional vulnerability.

The rest of it it right here.

 

Raking Leaves Reyes Style

Confessions of a Relocated Pastor’s Wife part 1

Recently, I had the privilege of writing over at the Sovereign Grace Pastors’ Wives’ blog on the topic of my relocating to Ohio. This article is a condensed (plus some new stuff) version of bits and pieces I have already written on the topic here (in Akron Adventure on the side bar). The following is a section I haven’t published on Ordinary Mother (til now).

Phase 1: Where you go I will go, but…

I’m a romantic. Not so much in the candles, roses, and soft music sense, but in the idealization of myself and unknown circumstances sense. I think back to our wedding day when I, the starry eyed bride, gazed into my groom’s eyes and vowed to him that I would go where he went. As a young couple we had dreamed together of being part of a church plant someday, and in that romantic moment in time I thrilled at the idea of being with Jason on an adventure to some unknown land. I would be brave and enthusiastic, a modern pioneer woman.

When the discussion over Jason leading a church in Ohio began, I can honestly say that God gave grace and faith to be willing to “go”. But I soon found that being willing to go and going are different things. Being willing to go means a meaningful conversation at Starbucks with my husband, seeing and hearing his dreams and vision for a new chapter in ministry, and sincerely wanting to be a part of making him a success – then telling him that anywhere he is, is home. Going means getting a house on the market which means being ready to show it at any moment while trying to homeschool four children. Going means packing a family of six and all of their accompanying stuff. Going means heart wrenching goodbyes and painful “last times”. Going means finding a new home to live in. Going means starting all over in so many ways. Going isn’t what that starry eyed bride pictured when she said, “where you go…” And I certainly wasn’t the brave adventurer I fantasized myself to be. But while I never factored in the hard realities of relocating, I also never factored in the astounding grace that would be most evident, not in my brave willingness to leave everything behind (though that is a huge act of grace, believe me), but in my weakness. Under my faltering steps of following my husband, I found the firm path of God’s grace. Where I slipped into worry over our future, God reminded me of His faithfulness in the past. Where I made life harder for Jason through grumbling or complaining, there was sweet relief in my Savior who perfectly obeyed without grumbling or complaining. When I was struggling with the pain of leaving ones I love so much, God reminded me that the pain was evidence of the goodness of His gifts to me in relationships and new gifts awaited me in a new place. The dreamy notions of “where you go…” proved to be nowhere near the difficult reality of those words. But the grace to “go” proved to be far more profound than any dreamy notions.

You can read the rest of part 1 here .

Titus 2 in the Kitchen: Judy’s Corn and Cheddar Chowder

Some of my all time favorite recipes to make during the autumn weather were passed down to me from the kitchens of women whose culinary skills aren’t the only thing I love and respect about them. Every time I make them, I think of the lady from whose kitchen it came. I love that Titus 2 can take place in the kitchen across the miles and the years.

This first recipe comes from my first pastor’s wife, Judy Phillips. Judy is an amazing cook! If ever you see a recipe featured from her kitchen make it your own. When I make this soup, I think of more than Judy’s culinary talents. I think about her love for her home, her adventurous spirit to follow her husband to Mexico City (with 4 children!!!), and her heart for encouraging ladies in their pursuit of biblical womanhood. I remember being a senior in highschool, taking a writing class from Judy in her home (do you remember that, Karen?). She often made muffins (the pumpkin recipe is here ) and while we learned to “show not tell” in our writing, we were also learning how appealing a home kept by one who loved being there could be. So when I make Corn and Cheddar Chowder, in some small way, though I haven’t seen Judy for years and she lives miles away in Colorado, she is with me in the kitchen, and I always thank God for her role in my life as a young woman.

Judy’s Corn & Cheddar Chowder (I double or triple this every time because we all love it!!!)

Step 1- Boil

2 diced potatoes for 15-20 minutes in:

2 pints chicken broth (4 cups)

1 bay leaf

½ tsp. sage

½ tsp. cumin

2 tsp. paprika

Salt and pepper to taste

 

Step 2- Sautee in a separate pot:

3 Tbsp. butter

2 finely chopped onions

2 cloves minced garlic

 

Step 3- Add

3 Tbsp. flour into butter mixture. Mix well.

 

Step 4- Add

¾ cup evaporated milk and

½ cup milk to step 3

 

Step 5- Boil

Until thickened

 

Step 6- Combine

Butter/flour mixture to the potatoes/broth mixture

 

Step 7- Add

1 ½ cups frozen corn

1 (4oz.) can of chilis chopped

 

Step 8 – Add last*

1 ½ cups grated sharp cheddar cheese

½ cup white wine

 

*serve right after cheese melts (don’t add cheese and wine until you are ready to serve it).

More Titus 2 recipes to come……

 

 

I Need To See The Cross

Join Us on Mondays

MOMentum is a feature on my blog that attempts to connect the power of the gospel to the mom experience.

“I need to see the cross!” was the emphatic statement of my two-and-a-half year old son, Caleb. No, he wasn’t some sort of theological savant. He had a morbid obsession with the cartoon picture of Jesus dying on the cross in his Bible story book.  He wanted me to find that picture for him.

Caleb does need to see the cross. He needs to see it as something done for him. He needs to see it as something done by him. All of my kids need to see this. And I need to see this as well.

I have a tendency to want to race past the cross on my way to the throne of grace. I can zoom my kids past the cross as well when I’m walking them through correction. We identify the sin, pray for forgiveness, and ask for grace to change. We even include a “thank you for dying on the cross for my sins” part to our prayer. But still, I can neglect directing their attention to the cost of such lavish grace in their lives. I want to think of ways to show them the cross, not just in the moment of correction, but outside of those moments.

Is this morbid like Caleb’s toddler infatuation with a picture in his storybook? I don’t think so.  I think seeing the cross will keep us from taking our sins lightly because we see what our sin deserves at the cross. I think seeing the cross will help protect us from blaming others for our sins because at the cross Jesus took our blame.  I think seeing the cross will protect us from condemnation as we see our guilt and shame being completely taken by Jesus on the cross. I think seeing the cross will keep us humble as we see the sinless, holy One hanging there in our place. I think seeing the cross will reveal the love of God for us, and in turn we will love Him more.

I long for the day when my children will say on their own, “I need to see the cross.” Until that day comes, and even after, I want to lead them to the throne of grace, but on our way, stop and consider the means by which we enjoy such lavish forgiveness and grace: the cross of Jesus Christ.

Now we see Jesus brought before the priests and rulers, who pronounce him guilty; God himself imputes our sins to him, “the Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all;” “He was made sin for us;” and, as the substitute for our guilt, bearing our sin upon his shoulders, represented by the cross; we see the great Scapegoat led away by the appointed officers of justice. Beloved, can you feel assured that he carried your sin? As you look at the cross upon his shoulders, does it represent your sin? There is one way by which you can tell whether he carried your sin or not. Have you laid your hand upon his head, confessed your sin, and trusted in him? Then your sin lies not on you; it has all been transferred by blessed imputation to Christ, and he bears it on his shoulder as a load heavier than the cross.

“Let not the picture vanish till you have rejoiced in your own deliverance, and adored the loving Redeemer upon whom your iniquities were laid.”
(Charles Spurgeon)