Treasuring Children in This Upside Down Kingdom

It happened again.  Upon running an errand with my children, we heard the ever-so-popular comment: “Boy, you have your hands full,” not once, not twice, but four times while in the store for 20 minutes.

I had to make a mid-morning run to the store with all four children in tow.  After making sure everyone’s face was clean, I supervised two kids putting on socks shoes while wrangling the other two squiggly children to put their respective footwear on.  Four coats were on and zipped.  Four hats were secured to their heads.  Four car-seats were buckled in place, and we were off.  Upon opening the van door, I discovered we were missing shoes, hats, socks, and somehow an arm had been de-sleeved.  I did the best I could to re-dress the kids to get them in the store.

We pulled up the cart, baby in front, toddler in back, with each big boy holding on to a side.  They know the drill.  They hardly ever make errands difficult.  They don’t ask for anything, don’t whine, don’t run away.  The biggest problem is the getting there…still dressed.  My two-year old started singing his rendition of “Polly Wolly Doodle All the Day,” and the baby started clapping.  As we happily walked down an aisle, a man said “Whoa, you have your hands full!” in a tone much less than encouraging.

I’m sort of used to this.  We either get that comment or “Are these all yours?”  We pressed on.  Two aisles later, an older woman said “Oh my goodness, look at all these children!  Poor mom!”  I graciously smiled, and my kids grew quiet.  On our way to checkout, another little one said “Look mom!  Baby!”  To which she replied, “Yes, and a lot of other kids too!  You sure do have your hands full, you poor thing.”  Finally, at the checkout, the store employee had the double-whammy:  “Are all these yours?”  Yes.  “Boy, do you have your hands full!  You guys better be good for mommy!” 

Now, like I said, I’m sort of used to this.  But it always had bothered me.  Yes, there are days when I don’t sit down.  There are moments of frustration when all I want to do is cry.  There are times when one of the kids have to wait for me because I’m doing something with another, and that gets emotionally challenging.  But, truth be told, I felt like this when I had just one! 

When we got home from the store, my 6 year old asked, “Mom, are you o.k.?  You’re hands are full and I think that’s a bad thing.”  You see, people make these comments as if I’m walking around with children who have no ears, no brains, no common sense.  These strangers’ comments are slowly teaching my children about how society views children.  Poor mom. What a burden. Don’t you have any time for yourself?  Slowly, these thoughts and comments seep into little minds who have began questioning their importance to me and to others.

After my son’s comment, I gathered my boys and we had a big hug that turned into a cuddle.  I told them that my hands were full, but not the way all those people at the store think.  I told them, as I held them tight, my hands were full of love, and joy, and silliness, and amazing gifts that were just for me. 

In my short time as a mom, I have learned much about what society thinks about children.  They are a financial burden, a handful, a problem for mom.  I suppose I can view these comments as ways to sympathize with me, but in reality, I’m not in mourning!  I’m alive because of my kids.  Unfortunately, every time we leave the house, they are exposed to this rhetoric, and they’re starting to listen and learn. 

My heart was heavy last night as I went to bed.  How, Lord, can I teach them that they are not a burden, but a blessing.  The answer came this morning.  We opened our Bible and the story we were scheduled to read was “The Friend of the Little Children” taken from various parts of the Gospels, Matthew 18 and 19, Mark 10, and Luke 18.  I love how The Jesus Storybook Bible put it.  After arguing who was the most important in God’s kingdom, the disciples watched as a group of children ran to Jesus.

“Jesus’ helpers tried to send them away. ‘Jesus doesn’t have time for you!’ they said.  “He’s too tired.’ But they were wrong.  Jesus always had time for children.  ‘Don’t ever send them away!’ Jesus said. ‘Bring the little ones to me.’”

Sounds familiar.  Poor Jesus, he’s too tired for such a handful.  Can you imagine as the onlookers watched these energetic little ones climb onto a tired Jesus’ lap asking him to tell them a story.  Boy, does he have his hands full!  Boys and girls, you better be good for him!

“Well, after all the laughing and games, Jesus turned to his helpers and said, ‘No matter how big you grow, never grow up so much that you lose your child’s heart: full of trust in God.  Be like these children.  They are the most important in my kingdom.’” 

You should’ve seen the look on my oldest son’s face as I read these words.  It was as if relief had come to his worried mind.  It wasn’t just me who said he wasn’t a burden, but Jesus said it himself!  I am not to be pitied, but rather I should be regarded as a very blessed woman! I get to spend my days and nights with the most important in His kingdom!  Most of the time, however, we are received in a very different manner.  What an upside down kingdom we live in.

Children are a lot of work.  Remember the 8 shoes 8 socks, 4 coats, 4 hats that lasted about 10 minutes of travel?  In order to have them behave in a store, there was much training involved.  There are tantrums, bad attitudes, and more physical labor than I could have imagined.  But there is joy, laughter, hugs and kisses.  And though they are not always innocent, and though they are not always wise, they are pure in heart.  And the pure in heart will see God.

I cannot control what people say, but I will relentlessly be the voice that is constantly whispering the truth in their ears: they are not a burden, but a gift and the closest thing to real joy and love this side of glory.

 “Children are a gift from the LORD; they are a reward from him.” Psalm 127:3 NLT

Not Just Dreaming But Doing

Do you ever find yourself going through the motions of life for months, even years, without any definitive goal except for survival?  Is it just me?  At the end of 2006, our son was born, and about every 18 months since then we’ve welcomed another lovely addition to our family.  We’ve had a perpetual toddler.  Our mounds of laundry grow larger each year, our bank account smaller.  Our goals have been to do the best we can with what we’ve been given.  However, this non-specific goal left us near-defeated by the end of our long, busy days, facing the doom of getting up the next morning to repeat it all over again.  Life goes by so quickly that there are moments that my husband and I look at each other in disbelief that we have all these kids!

Now, I have accomplished much in life…before kids.  I won awards, was always at the top of my class, held down a job or two at a time, and somehow had time to serve others.  Perhaps I used all of my life’s allotted energy in my earlier years?   Yes, energy levels and responsibility levels are different, but there’s another difference.  I used to set goals.

Before you stop reading and think great, just another post about New Year resolutions, that’s not what I’m talking about.  It just so happens that at the end of the year, we start reflecting on the good and bad and resolve to change all that went wrong.  I didn’t lose as much weight last year as before, so I resolve to do it this year.  Nope. That’s just not enough for me.  I have to roadmap it. 

The truth is that I have a responsibility to teach my little guys and girl (eventually) to set goals for themselves.  Proverbs 29:18 says “Without vision, a people perish.”  If we do not know where we’re going, we’re never going to get there.  We can have the best intentions in the world, but they will remain intentions unless there is a declaration (or resolution), a goal, a plan to achieve that goal, and a time frame.  This is a goal formula I used to follow and it has been responsible for some great success.  Now, it’s time to revive it and pass it on.

Family meeting time!  Our kids loved goal setting.  Their resolve was oozing out of their ears. I’m going to play baseball everyday and be the best baseball player ever and play on the Indians.  Yes, my dear 4-year-old, that’s a lofty one!  I want to feed all the orphans in the world.  Ah-my 6-year-old is a kindred spirit of mine!  We let them go on and on, enjoying hearing the high hopes held in the heart of a child.  Then we explained we’re going to roadmap our goals and commit to a plan to get us there.  Silence.  Silence, followed by a change of goals.  Suddenly, they became more realistic.

Our boys are learning something about change.  First, we have to be intentional about what we want to change or improve.  Second, we must have a plan to accomplish those changes.  Third, accountability helps a lot. 

It took awhile, but we listed and planned out our family and individual goals for 2013.  We listed several and planned how we’ll get there.  We incorporated those wonderful high hopes into a list of things that they want to accomplish eventually.  Instead of playing on the Indians this year, we tweaked our little guy’s goal to something he can work on to get him there some day.  Instead of feeding all the orphans in the world this year, we talked about what we could realistically do to make an impact in some kids lives.

One of my goals is to learn how to do everything without grumbling or complaining.  My plan includes starting a gratitude journal and writing in it everyday.  I am using prompts from Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts.”  Every day I think through her prompts and list what I’m thankful for.  It’s amazing how practicing gratitude changes our perception!

I’m excited about 2013.  I feel like a fog has lifted and survival is no longer our end goal.  While there are days (plenty of them) when that’s all we can do, I want to run this race the best I can.  It’s hard to run a race wisely when we can’t see the finish line.

So, here’s to 2013!  Here’s to goal setting once again!  Here’s to the excitement of future success!  Here’s to watching my family accomplish great things through the grace of God!

 

“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”  Philippians 3:12-14

 

Truth Be Told, We Don't Do Sick Well

Well hello again!  It’s been awhile.

Somehow I blinked mid-December and when I came to, I realized it was already a few days into the New Year.  Often, the holidays can do this to us…especially moms.  Between the cooking, the cleaning, the wrapping, the planning, the preparing…it’s like going on vacation-afterwards, you need a vacation!

As I write today, I have a fevering baby lying on my chest.  I’m not completely sure, but I think that we have somehow physically become inseparable within the last week, as if she could not survive apart from being held close to me.  But this is the only way she’ll sleep.  And when she’s not sleeping, she’s crying, with her hoarse little voice and runny nose.  And she has to be tired because as we sit here, we can hear a symphony of coughing all around us.  Next door is her 2 year old brother with croup, working hard to get all of that yuck out of him.  Behind us are her two older brothers, both with coughs, spiking fevers, and now viral rashes.  Despite all the noise and interruption, she is sleeping to the sound of my heartbeat.

It’s been a rough week around here.  My husband had 5 days off of work and we were planning on catching up on life and getting ahead.  So much for that plan!  We are about 10 more steps behind.  We’ve taken turns for the last week holding little ones, with very little time spent when no one is in our arms.  Our backs hurt, our necks are sore, and we’re just plain tired.  We have come up with some crazy meals around here, pulling together anything remotely healthy that we could have on the table between crying spells.  And amidst the crying, the coughing, the sneezing, the fevering, and the vomiting, we found out that someone has been running up our credit card.  Ah, life.  There is a reason for the saying “when it rains, it pours.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, today my husband went back to work.  Today the morning’s symphonies of coughing and crying were all for me to enjoy alone.   But this morning was a little different-a little more intense.

This morning I bundled all four runny-nosed, goopy eyed little ones and piled them into the van to go to the dr.  As we were sitting there, crying and coughing as usual, my two year old tripped and got a bloody nose.  No problem.  I was holding the crying baby and the crying, bloody toddler when I look over to discover that my 6 year old was swelling up and breaking out into a rash, right there in the waiting room!  He started crying because his feet hurt all of the sudden.  Hmm…o.k.  At least we were in the dr.’s office!  I shifted the other two so I could have a free arm to hug him.  My 4 year old was quietly watching the fish swim around the tank when, no joke, he went into a coughing fit that literally wouldn’t stop for the next 15 minutes.  Ah-we were the picture of health and wholeness!  Truth time: in my heart and in my head, there was not a good thought to be found.  I love these little guys, but enough was enough.  Mommy’s sick too.  Does anyone care?  Thank goodness my inward grumbling and complaining was interrupted by the nurse calling our name.

Four checkups later, we were on our way to the pharmacy at Target.  I dreaded the trip seeing as the dr.’s office wasn’t so easy.  The inner dialogue started again: this stinks.  I didn’t even have time with my husband during the holidays because of all of this.  I haven’t slept in forever.  It’s cold. I’m hungry.  Gosh, I can spiral downward fast!

For some reason, everyone seemed to be at Target today at 11:00 a.m.  I had never had to park so far away!  I carried the two younger ones, one on each aching hip, while the other two walked along like little ducklings, braving the cold wind.  Two in the cart, two holding onto the sides, we rushed to the pharmacy.  While waiting for our prescription, we grabbed another humidifier, some mucinex, more ibuprofen, and some Gatorade.  My kids were dragging at this point.  My poor baby was leaning sideways in her seat, unable to hold her head up.  We paid for everything and were on our way out.  I realized at that point that I had not stopped moving since I was awakened early this morning.  Exhaustion set in.  No, not yet!  I still have lunch to make and kids to settle down for a rest!  I need a cup of coffee!

It was then I heard this little voice that I love so much.  My six year old looked up at me as we were walking out of Target and said, “It’s been a really good day today, hasn’t it Mom?”  I looked at him in disbelief.  How in the world could this be classified as a good day?  I hadn’t had time to even have a glass of water yet.  I’m covered in snot.  I literally watched him break out into a big swollen mess as I was holding one crying, fevering baby and consoling another sick, nose-bleeding child.  I haven’t slept in a week.  My house is an absolute mess.  We’re almost out of food.  I haven’t been able to put the baby down for 7 whole days.  But I didn’t say anything.  I smiled and said “Well buddy, it could’ve been worse.”

 

That’s when I had to crawl back into my head and yell at myself.  It’s not about you.  It’s about love.  It’s easy to love when someone is lovable.  It’s easy to love your kids when you have a bedtime to look forward to.  It’s easy to love your spouse when everyone is rested and there is no crisis to deal with.  It’s entirely a different story when you’re being pushed to your limit of sanity!  But these little ones are always watching and trying to figure things out.  Yes, my dear one, it’s been a really good day because we get to be together.

 

Here’s the truth:  the Stacks had a messy week.  But it could be worse.  We’re not watching our kids suffer through a hopeless situation.  We are not alone.  Our bodies will recover.  We are blessed by each other and by the home that we have.  We are blessed by the amazing wisdom and optimism that exudes from our little ones.  We can choose to dwell in that inner dialogue where it’s so easy to see the negative, or we can choose to see the good in our day.  We are together.  We are rich in love.  That’s what it’s all about.

Happy New Year!  The Stacks will get better, and then watch out!  We are ready for this to be the best year yet!  Look for the good in today, love each other, and listen to the little ones in your life!   

 “Have patience with all things, but chiefly have patience with yourself. Do not lose courage in considering your own imperfections but instantly set about remedying them - every day begin the task anew."

-St. Francis de Sales-

 

 

Joy to the World

The tree has been trimmed, the gingerbread house built, the cookies baked.  The kids have gathered each morning to hear Scriptures read, preparing our hearts to celebrate Jesus' birth.  We walked through Christmas lights, drank hot chocolate, and watched a few Christmas movies. 

And with all the family time, the sowing "meaning" into the season, and the avoidance of many things commercially related to Christmas, I sometimes feel like my kids don't get it.  Honestly, some days I feel like I am simply going through the motions myself. 

Christmas is a celebration of a Savior who has come to redeem us and to give us life, life abundantly. We celebrate because Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life.  No one can come to the Father except through him.  We celebrate because he equipped us with everything we need to live out this life in such a way to honor Him. 

In celebrating these awesome truths, we are reminded of others who don't have this abundance in life.  Christmas serves as a great reminder to share the joy of Jesus with others, and to take our resources, (time, talent, and money) to those who need to experience an abundant life. 

Tonight was such a special treat for me.  My older two boys and I drove only 15 minutes away, met some friends, and spent the evening at a place called The Malachi House, a home for the terminally ill who would otherwise be spending their last days homeless or in make-shift shelters.  This place is a home.  It is a home where these precious souls can come and live together during their last days on this earth with dignity.

We gathered in the chapel and sang Christmas carols to a camera that broadcast our voices and faces to each of the residents' rooms.  Most were bed ridden.  We filed out of the small chapel to individually visit the residents.  As we were exiting, I noticed a small book of prayer requests sitting on the table.  I confess, I peaked!  Don't worry, I didn't thumb through it.  I just looked at the open page.  I almost wish I hadn't.  Written in poor, weak handwriting were some of the residents' prayer requests.  There were only 5 written on the page, and 4 of them contained prayers that their family would visit.  My heart broke.

Abundance?  Did these people know of the abundant life that our Savior came to give to us?  Whatever their stories, we found them here, spending their last days not among family, but with strangers, suffering through their last days.  And yet, they are just as precious to their Maker as you and I.  We walked through the home, visited almost every resident.  Some told us about their lives.  Some were just so flabbergasted that we all came to visit that they wanted to hear about us...well, about our kids anyways!  Some were clearly in their last days, unable to move, unable to speak. 

One woman specifically touched my soul with the touch of her hand.  She was one of those who didn't have much time left.  It was obvious.  She was skin and bones, her eyes almost bulging from her face.  She couldn't speak.  It didn't seem like her eyes could even focus.  I wondered, as we were putting our cards and goodies on her table, whether she even knew we were there.  Just as we were leaving, her frail hand reached for us.  Three of us responded by holding her hand as she struggled to speak.  Tears welled up in her eyes, and instantly a realization came to me that we may be the last ones to visit her.  We blessed her, told her she was loved, and wished her a Merry Christmas.  I do not know her story, I do not know why she was dying.  I don't know if she ever knew abundant life.  Tonight, we tried to show it the best way we knew how.  We left her with gifts, cards, smiles, prayers, and touches. 

We have been talking and teaching our kids about the good news of Jesus.  We have been telling them about the world's realities and how we are called to serve others just as Jesus served while he was on this earth.  Tonight, I didn't do much talking.  Tonight, my boys came alongside me.  They sang.  They passed out cards.  They wished these dear souls possibly their last Merry Christmas.  We've served before.  I've looked for every opportunity to serve alongside of our children.  Tonight was different.  Tonight they saw loneliness and sickness.  And they weren't scared.  They were filled with hope.  They loved being able to fill these people's rooms with treats and cards. They liked going in to their rooms "like a big party" and talking with them.  They want to know when we're going to go back.

I asked the boys what their favorite part of tonight was, and my 4 year old said that he liked meeting people who were going to live with Jesus soon.  Wow.  We got to visit with people who will be in His presence soon, and my kids were so excited to meet them.  My 6 year old said singing "Joy to the World" was his favorite, because he wanted everyone to know that Jesus came and because of it there is joy, no matter what.  He wants to know what we can do to make sure people know about our joy before they become this sick.  Their hearts are willing, and their flesh isn't yet weak.

Truth be told, I like decorating and baking and snuggling up with just the Christmas lights on, watching a movie with my family.  But this year, my favoriate Christmas memory was watching my boys "get" it. 

Laying Down Roots

“To be rooted is perhaps the most important and least recognized need of the human soul.”  Simone Weil

I love reflecting on life.  So often, I find that if I sit back and think through all the random encounters and unplanned events, there is a theme...a whisper of some sort.  This morning, I reflected on the past week and I heard that whisper.

What was the whisper?  Why spoil the surprise?

In the past week, I have had the pleasure of seeing old faces, all from different eras of my life.  A few nights ago, I was able to sit and listen to a woman who knew my parents (and me!) when I was very little.  She shared the most amazing stories of how she is being used to free gem mining slaves all around the world and about how she and her husband are working to raise funds to build a freestanding orphanage in a remote area of Nepal.  I wanted to hear more and more, and she shared more and more.  And we were like old friends.  Now, arguably, she is such a kind, wonderful woman, and I’m sure she made many people feel the same.  But she remembered me from when I was very little.  She knew my dad.  She asked about him.  She had specific memories.  I felt very much that a part of her heart had somehow been transplanted to me, because my heart is also passionate about seeking justice and looking after the fatherless.

Just before that interaction, I visited my childhood best friend and her family as they mourned the loss of her dear father.  As I stood in line waiting to give her a hug, I thought about how often we let years go by before reconnecting with old friends.  I thought about how someone who was such a big part of your life can so easily become a memory. But I also realized that real friends, good friends, leave their imprint on you.   And then, as I stood in my old church and grade school, I was flooded with memories.  It was there that I met some very special people who became my forever friends.  It was there that I know I heard God’s voice clearly for the first time.  It was there when I began to discover my own personal strengths and gifts.  It was there that the Word of God was poured into me and my love for it sunk deep into my being.  And it was there that my childhood best friend and I shared such an important part of life together, transitioning from “child” to “adolescent.”  Now, she’s in a different transition, and I wanted nothing more than to experience it with her…as much as I could, at least.  Driving away my heart grieved for her family, and I was reminded to number my days.  And to be thankful for the seasons of life that formed who I am today.

A few days before that, I sat in the nursery of my church listening to very familiar music being performed by the arts team of our old church family.  Nothing seems to affect me more than music.  It can change my mood in an instant.  It can make me pensive, joyful, or peaceful.  And a lot of the time, it doesn’t just stir emotions, but memories as well.  That night, the music was sweet, but the memories were sweeter.  I remembered a much more carefree season of life, in my early days of college, when my good friends and I served our church for these productions, all growing closer to each other in the process.  Actually, one of the ways I really got to know my husband was by serving our church alongside of him.  That night, I heard the same voices sing the same songs and I was transported to “the good ol’ days” of college friends, fun times, and falling in love.  And as great as those memories are, there is a sense of pain in them because the church that was so much a part of our DNA is no more.  I know many grieved that loss and moved on, but for my husband and I, the friends we had at church became our family.  Once it dissolved, it felt like we were kids in the middle of a divorce.  Though we maintained many friendships over the years, it’s just not the same.  The music was a reminder of that.  And yet, as I sat there slowly succumbing to sadness, I was reminded that God is still good, and real, and there is no building or mentor or friend or program in the world that could ever diminish his greatness and His love for us that we continued to experience outside of that family.  In addition to all that, His Word says that He sets the lonely in families.  And so He has!  Had we not been moved from there to where we are now, we’d be missing out on a whole new church family that we have grown to love immensely, more than we could have imagined!

 So, what’s the whisper?  I have never felt like I belonged.  My mother left, I changed schools, churches, friends, surroundings…but I am rooted in something much deeper than all of that.  I am rooted in love.  And those roots are spread out long and strong around the region.  It is this genuine love that connects me with a woman who knew me as a small child, and who is now inspiring and provoking me in her everyday, adventurous life.  It is that love that surpassed years of distance between childhood friends, allowing me to mourn with someone who I realize is very much a part of my own heart. It is God’s love that reminds me that in the pain of separation from a family, there is One who is closer than a brother, and He redeems situations and restores friendships…and brings new ones that are unimaginable and breathe life into me every day!  It was my Maker’s genuine love that whispered my name in each era of my life.  It was His voice wooing my heart and giving me His for the world when I was very young.  It was His voice telling me what kind of strengths He knit me together with and who I was to become.  It was His voice teaching me how to love Him alone, and not rely on other people or experiences in place of His presence.  Today, it is His love that speaks to my heart and says to me that though I have never felt like I belonged, I have real roots that are strong.

A friend of mine encouraged me with a thought one day.  That thought is that we are sojourning through this life.  Sojourning!  I love that!  Yes!  This is not “it” for us.  It is not to this world that we belong.  And yet, we live here, with real people, situations, passions, and losses.  So while we’re sojourning, there is plenty of time for us to love others and pursue justice on their behalf.  To me, there’s no better use of our time.  As a mom, there’s nothing better to model to my children.  I want them to learn how to gaze heavenward, knowing how to fully love, and to use what God has placed inside their own unique little bodies to serve others while we’re sojourning, however challenging that may be.

“I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.  And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge-that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”  Ephesians 3: 16-19

 

 

 

 

 

My Favorite Christmas Cookie!

Though my tree is up, my house is decorated, and my advent activities are underway, I find myself not entirely "into" the Christmas season quite yet. 

Perhaps it is because today was 60 degrees and the boys and I played a very competitive game of backyard soccer.  Perhaps it is because my days go by so much more quickly with 4 little ones.  Perhaps it is simply because I'm getting older.

Nonetheless, the Christmas season is upon us!  What better way to make it feel like Christmas than to bake some Christmas cookies?!  The greatest thing about Christmas cookies is that they transport us to memory lane, almost instantly.  I want to share with you one of my favorite recipes. 

During my first year of college, I moved in with a good friend and her family at Christmas break (I stayed for a few years!)  It was one of the very best seasons of my life!  Her family was so loving and traditional.  Their tree was perfectly trimmed, holiday movies were playing in the evenings, and the family would gather to look at their Christmas book, filled with memories of all their Christmases together.  I felt like I was living in a movie at times.  It is there that I am transported when I taste a chocolate covered cherry cookie!  Mr. C would make a few batches of these on a day off of work, and the house would smell heavenly!  The next year, I helped him bake a batch so that I could learn.  As a bonus, he handed me the recipe! 

Here it is...the wonderful Chocolate Covered Cherry Cookie recipe!

1 ½ cups flour

½ cup unsweetened cocoa powder
½ cup butter
1 cup sugar
¼ tsp. salt
¼ tsp. baking soda
¼ tsp. baking powder
1 egg
1 ½ tsp. vanilla
One 10 oz. jar of maraschino cherries undrained
1 6 oz. packages of semi-sweet chocolate pieces
½ cup sweetened condensed milk

In a mixing  bowl, combine flour and cocoa; set aside.  In a large mixing bowl, beat the butter with an electric mixer on medium for about 30 seconds, until softened.  Add sugar, salt, baking powder and baking soda.  Beat till well combined.  Add egg and vanilla.  Beat well.  Gradually beat in the flour mixture.

Shape dough into 1 inch balls; place on ungreased baking sheet.  Press down on the center of each ball with thumb.  Drain cherries, reserving the juice.  Place a cherry in the center of each cookie.  In a small saucepan, combine the chocolate pieces and sweetened condensed milk; heat till chocolate is melted.  Stir in 4 teaspoons of cherry juice.

Spoon about one teaspoon of the frosting over each cookie, covering each cherry. 

Bake in oven at 350 for 10 minutes. 

 

Voila! These are amazingly good warm out of the oven!  Let me know what you think...and if you have a minute, share with me your favorite cookie recipe!

 

 

Motherless Mothering, Part 2!

I am amazed at the outpouring of comments, emails, messages and support that my last post received.  I’ve received so much encouragement and am so overjoyed that some simple words spoke to so many hearts.

I am even more amazed at the background stories that have landed so many women in the role of mothering without a mother; from abandonment and death to distance and dementia.  And here we are, doing the very best we can to raise our children, both young and old, but still desiring a mother’s influence in our lives.

Here’s what I love about the Bible…if you dig in it enough, there’s always a gentle whisper addressing all the pains in our hearts.  Strangely enough, I find myself loving Isaiah 49:15-16.  I turn to it often in those times of confusions and hurt and I find great comfort in these words. 

“Can a woman forget her nursing child,
And not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Your walls are continually before Me.” (NKJV)

Wait, what was that?  It’s entirely possible that a woman may have no compassion, even abandon, her own children?  The Bible knew that this was something that happened.  There’s nothing new under the sun.  Forgetting my child and having no compassion for him is hard for me to comprehend, but it’s not hard for God to understand.  For whatever reason, be it abandonment, death, distance, or illness, it is a known reality that we could be forever forgotten by our very own mothers. 

But the greatest part about this verse is the end: He will not forget us.  You know who He is?  He is the one who formed us in our mother’s womb.  He is the one who set our hearts in motion.  He is the one who is intimately acquainted with every turn, corner, and hidden place of our hearts.  And good or bad, He is the one who loves us.  Even if we are forgotten or left by the woman who is charged with our care, we are not left without a caregiver. 

He didn’t just stop there.  He not only said He would never forget us, but He is so stinkin’ crazy about us, that He went ahead and carved our names in the palms of His hands!  I don’t know about you, but that makes my heart sing!  It makes me proud to say “I am my beloveds and He is mine!”  Forever and for always, He has me on his mind and I cannot be forgotten.  Song of Solomon 8:7 says (NKJV):

“Many waters cannot quench love,
Nor can the floods drown it.
If a man would give for love
All the wealth of his house,
It would be utterly despised.”

I have so much to say on the topic of motherless mothering.  Maybe I should be working up a manuscript : )  Reading comments and messages left me wanting to gather you all together, hug, and cry.  There are so many wounds, so many stories, but so much victory!  So many of you have lived amazing lives and have yourself walked into a mothering role without a role model.  And you have done so awesomely!  For all of you, I thank you for hearing my heart, sharing yours, and continuing this journey with me.

We cannot train up our children in the ways they should go and treasure each moment of this journey without knowing deep in our hearts that we have One who loves us more than anyone here on this earth ever could!

I leave you with these great quotes encouraging us to set our minds on things eternal:

"What joy that the Bible tells us the great comfort that the best is yet to be. Our outlook goes beyond this world." - Corrie ten Boom-

"You can look forward with hope, because one day there will be no more separation, no more scars, and no more suffering in My Fathers House. It's the home of your dreams!"
-Anne Graham Lotz-