SILENT NIGHT SHATTERED

Last night I said, "Doug, I've got a hankering for a burger and some Checkers fries."

Now he could have mentioned it was almost 10 PM, but he didn't.  Or pointed out the obvious; we were in our pajamas in the middle of a recorded Hallmark movie.  But he didn't.  Or he might have whined about it being cold out there and warm in here.  But he didn't.  

Let me explain why.  He understood three things.  

• hankering--a southern yearning, not always related to pregnancies
• Checkers fries--duh.  
• loving me enough to drive me there in our pj's with a smile

It was that post holiday lazy phase we were vegging in.  As we pulled back into our driveway, warm bag in hand, we headed up to our front door, bedroom shoes softly padding.Then we heard it.  Hard to describe in a blog.  But it was loud voices, angrily arguing from the porch and doorway of our next door neighbor.  In CHINESE!  

View by snowy day.

We quietly slipped into the house trying not to embarrass them with our unintentional eavesdropping. They must have spotted us.  The voices silenced immediately.

When they'd first moved in, I introduced myself but she spoke not one word of English.  So our meet and greet morphed into a bowing contest of repeating our own names, loudly.  So now we just smile, nod and wave from our yards.  There are no words we share.

Today as I thought about our neighbors last night, I prayed for them. Their fight had moved from indoors to outdoors.  They didn't realize they had an audience hearing every word.  Indiscernible, yes.  But fighting sounds similar in any language.

We too have an audience of One seeing our every ugly action, thought or word.  We may not be aware or perceptive enough to sense Him.  Cover of darkness, indoors or out, God is omniscient.  He not only understands any language but the very intents of my heart, my sometimes wicked heart.

I wondered if I became aware of God in those moments, might I shut up?  Blush?  Change my thinking, actions? Would I feel His love, ready forgiveness, hurt, His desire to help?  Unlike neighbors, He can intervene in our hardest places and heal them.

Next time you feel angry, alone, hurt, afraid, disappointed in yourself or others, misunderstood, taken for granted, unloved or mistreated, like no one hears or understands you. . .remember One does.

One is enough.

Peter knows how it feels too.


Les Miserables is an epic story about grace.  If you have the opportunity, see it.  We did yesterday.  Take tissues!

PRIZED SECRET RECIPES

Dinner-on-the-ground at homecoming is an annual Baptist event.  In the south ladies would bring their favorites dish, cake or pie.  In Grandma's day those recipes were a family secret.  By my mother's day, ladies gladly shared their recipes.  Mama's specialty was cakes.  I'm still asked for three of her most popular.  Her chocolate fudge ranks #1.

It's followed closely by her penuche and then her blueberry, which tastes as good as it looks.  It was Doug's favorite so he decided to enter a Bobby Crocker contest.  He meticulously followed Mama's tattered recipe.  And WON!  It was his first cake.  And his last.

I didn't inherit the baking gene.  Except for one absolutely fabulous recipe. When I broke the old keep-it-a-secret code and recently shared the recipe on facebook, there were over 30 responses within a day.  So I cut and pasted it here for you to enjoy.

Once again this year, I’ve had requests for my Vodka Christmas Cake recipe so here goes. Please keep in your files as I am beginning to get tired of typing this up every year! (Made mine this morning!!!!) 1 cup sugar, 1 tsp. baking powder, 1 cup water, 1 tsp. salt , 1 cup brown sugar, lemon juice, 4 large eggs, nuts, 1...bottle Vodka,
2 cups dried fruit.

Sample a cup of Vodka to check quality. Take a large bowl, check the Vodka again to be sure it is of the highest quality then Repeat. Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl. Add 1 teaspoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point, it is best to make sure the Vodka is still OK. Try another cup just in case. Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 eegs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit. Pick the fruit up off the floor, wash it and put it in the bowl a piece at a time trying to count it. Mix on the turner.

If the fried druit getas stuck in the beaterers, just pry it loose with a drewscriver Sample the Vodka to test for tonsisticity. Next, sift 2 cups of salt, or something. Check the Vodka. Now shifthhhh the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find. Greash the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over. Don't forget to beat off the turner. Finally, throw the bowl through the window. Finish the Vodka and wipe the counter with the cat.

It's humor, my dear Baptist friends, so don't be hating.  I know my Lutheran friends will love this. . .might even try my recipe.  THE recipe according to the sisters on The Waltons!

MY FORGETTER WORKS FINE

"Doug, after the wedding rehearsal I'm playing for, I'll call you.  Let's meet at the shopping center parking lot and drive together to the dinner."

"Sounds good. If we dove-tail there, it saves you backtracking to the house to get me.  Then we'll just pick up my truck on the way home."

Good plan.  Several hours later after a delicious meal we pulled into our driveway.   Without a word spoken, we both gasped at the empty space where his red truck should be.  We forgot to stop and get it.  In fact, we drove right by it.  So we, well. . .we backtracked.

WE forgot.  Our forgetters work overtime these days.  Where'd I leave my keys, my purse, my coffee cup?

There's recent medical research explaining forgetfulness.  Turns out, doors themselves may be to blame for these strange memory lapses. Psychologists at the University of Notre Dame have discovered that passing through a doorway triggers what's known as an event boundary in the mind, separating one set of thoughts and memories from the next. Your brain files away the thoughts you had in the previous room and prepares a blank slate for the new locale.   It's not aging; it's the door!  Thank goodness for studies like this. (I didn't Snopes it and neither should you.)

God's forgetter works overtime too.  He has different reasons.

"He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west." (Psalm 103:12 NLT) 
 "For I will be merciful toward their iniquities, and I will remember their sins no more." (Hebrews 8:12 ESV)

I find it amazing that God does that.  I also find it amazingly wonderful when it comes to my many sins.  At the same time, I seem to have selective memory when it comes to forgetting the sins of others.  I can recall details for years!  With all the forgiving grace He shows me, I still hear my own voice. . .


"You ALWAYS do that!"
"You NEVER change!"
"How many times have you done the same thing?"

Sometimes I recall the mistakes of others.  Sometimes I wag my accusing finger back at myself. How I wish my forgetter worked as well in this area!

A friend and I were talking about this recently.  Admitting our own tendencies toward remembering past offences, we concluded it comes when we feed our own mind negative thoughts.   I can choose to mull over my own past weaknesses or other people's failures.  That negative mindset spirals downward quickly.   "Maybe we need to hold each other accountable on this," I suggested.

If the God of the universe forgives AND forgets, so should we.  Oh, I know we can't literally erase memories at the whim.  But we can agree with Him that Jesus' blood paid the debt of sin and because of that, the Father sees us as pure, holy. . .covered in Christ's righteousness!  

Remembering the evil one is also called the Accuser helps me identify that voice, when I hear it in my own head or on my own lips!  I don't want to side with and agree with him!

Lord, help me to forget those things that are behind and remember where I parked my car!

COFFEE! NOW!

Hello.  My name is Kathy.  I'm a coffeeholic. I really don't want to be cured.  I like my morning cup. . .or two. . .OK, my pot of java!

Sometimes old wives' tales are debunked. Other times science catches up with the truths there.  Now that I'm an old wife, I concur with recent science validating health benefits of coffee.



Here are just a few benefits of coffee:

• skin cancer risk lessened
• breast cancer reduced
• helps prevent diabetes
• helps avoid early onset of Alzheimer's
• 15% lower risk of colon cancer 
• lowers risk of some types prostate cancer
• endometrial cancer risk lowered
• liver cancer decreased risk
• reduction of risk of oral cancer
• 15% less likely to suffer depression
• death (Not sure you can count this as a disease but one study found those who drank two to three cups a day were 10-15% less likely to die in the next 13 years.)

A more recent report can be heard here. Thanks to my sister-in-love, Carol for this one:

https://youtu.be/ly1NjibK79U

Now I realize people disagree and preferences color what we desire.  Some of those black and white foods folks feel strongly about their liver, licorice, steak sauce (to use or not to use), coffee with cream or sweetener and olives.  Olives can even subdivide people between green and black prejudices. I happen to love all of the above.  

When we eat with friends at a local Italian restaurant most of them hate olives. They know I love them.  So when the salads come, everyone dumps theirs on my plate.  I end up with two salads--tossed and olives!


Back to my original topic of coffee. I'm not a morning person by nature. I don't even try to talk to God before my first cup.  He understands.  But my pot of coffee helps me get there! Good thing my piano students don't start until afternoons!

Coffee lovers congregate around it.  It's a social thing.  My brother, Bert, used to arrive early to his college office where he'd start the coffee, even though he didn't drink it.  "It smells so good though," he'd say, "that every now and then I'd try a cup to see if I liked it.  I didn't." Eventually he did develop a taste for coffee. Peer pressure!

My coffee shrine station

When supperclub comes here I keep two pots going, decaf and regular.  I buy the various kinds of creams and sweeteners folks prefer.  The coffee station in my kitchen is a gathering place.  It's where I head first thing every morning.  My sweet husband has the timer on automatic so it's ready.  

As you can see, family and friends give me little gifts that hang around here too!

   

   

  





Recently our pastor, Dr. Mike Gay, used a coffee illustration with his sermon.  (He's more of a green tea guy.) He told us about the most expensive coffee in the world (Kopi Luwak at $300 a lb.) made from coffee beans that pass through the digestive track of the palm civit.  Retrieved from the dung, the beans are washed and roasted.  That rite of passage apparently gives it the amazing flavor.  Yes, he even included pictures of the creature (see above) and the dung. I'll spare you the latter shot. 

But I'm still not cured!

Caffeinated Kathy