An Open Letter to My Daughter

Dear Bridget,
     Today the Holy Spirit revealed something wonderful to me:  I hate my life.  I know that sounds strange.  Please bear with me.
     I have been struggling for a long time now with frustration, anxiety, and bouts of depression.  I was frustrated when I spent days alone in the house;  I was frustrated when I had to take care of company.  I was frustrated if your Dad was home too much; I was frustrated when he was gone a lot.  I was frustrated almost all of the time.  I had anxiety attacks.  I got down and couldn't find any energy or joy.  Yet, through all of this, I loved my life.  I was grateful to God to have such wonderful children and a wonderful husband, a beautiful house and plenty of money.  Most of the time, I was happy with the decisions I had made in life.  So why was I struggling?
     Lately, I have been sinking into another spell of the blues.  I came up with so many excuses:  the recent move, the mysterious stomach pains, your growing up, my need to find a close friend in LaGrange, the chilly spring.  So many, many more.  Still, the confusing thing is that when I actually think about it, I have the things I've really sought:  children, marriage, old house, great church, etc. .  Today, I had one of those fits where I decide all I ever do is clean, and yet the house is never clean.  I began filling the donation boxes, as I usually do during these times.  I think the idea is solid:  if I didn't own so much stuff, I wouldn't have to spend so much time cleaning my stuff.

Love hurts.

     As I was working, I was talking to God.  One of the nice things about being home alone is that I am completely free to talk out loud to God.  I was telling God that I am so SICK of spending all of my time on meaningless labor.  I do dishes, laundry, floors, beds...meaningless, cyclical work.  Please don't try to explain how satisfied I should be.  I finally got so frustrated that I shouted to the Lord, "I HATE MY LIFE!  THERE!  I SAID IT!  I HATE MY LIFE!"
     As soon as the words were out, I felt a bit of peace come to my spirit.  That Still Small Voice said, "Good.  That is the first step.  Now, what did I tell you?"  My mind was immediately filled with scriptures:  Luke 14:26-28, and the story of Mary and Martha.
     In Luke 14, Jesus finds Himself followed by a large crowd.  As usual, Jesus reacts by separating the men from the boys, so to speak.  He says, "If anyone comes to Me, and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be My disciple.  Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.  For which one of you, when he wants to build a tower, does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if he has enough to complete it?"  Our culture teaches us that to love one's life is a virtue.  If I don't love my life, something is terribly wrong.  Today, the Holy Spirit said to me, "Finally.  You are finally ready to become My disciple."

     The hardest part of coming to this point of realization was coming to terms with my role as a woman.  Ever since I got saved at 18, the loving folks I did church with began teaching me to love being a homemaker, and to find fulfillment there.  I did.  I still love being a homemaker.  Nonetheless, I am not fulfilled by housework; nor do I feel that housework and childcare fulfill my calling as a disciple.  As a youth worker, I have heard countless speakers assure crowds of youth (of both genders) that God has a plan for their lives and a calling on them.  Somehow, I do not believe that that calling is to a sink full of dishes.  Nor even to childrearing.  I believe that, as we fulfill our Christian calling, we set the example for our children.  We also bring them along with us, so they can begin their own good work.  That is how a woman raises the next generation of Christians, not by pampering and protecting them behind the middle-class walls of American suburbs.  Walls which I have sometimes protected and pampered my children behind.
     I think a woman is just as called to discipleship as a man.  Like it or not, Jesus had female disciples who travelled with Him and supported Him financially (typically the job of a rabbi's disciples, see Luke 8:1-3).  Consider, also, the familiar story of Mary and Martha.  In Luke 10:  38-42, we see Martha keeping busy with household work.  Mary, on the other hand, was completely focused on Christ.  Martha complained that Mary wasn't helping with the work.  What did Jesus say?  "There is only one thing worth being concerned about.  Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her."  Boom.
   
The point of this letter is two-fold:

1.  Don't ever fall for the teaching that women are not as called as men.  Stay in the scriptures and in prayer.  You are an anointed woman,  as were many women in both the Old and New Testaments.  Act 2:18:  "Even on My bondslaves, both men and women, I will in those days pour forth of My Spirit, and they shall prophesy."
2.  Don't be sad that I hate my life.  Be happy for me!  I believe the wind is picking up.  Do you know the wind I am talking about?  I think you do.  And if you ever find yourself thinking, "I hate my life," don't despair.  Brace yourself.

     With all my heart, I love you, Bridget.  --Moma

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THIS EPISODE'S DIY

What To Do With Grits

     My in-laws ain't from around here.  They live in Iowa.  Every time he has breakfast with us, my father-in-law asks, "What's a grit?"  Well, grits are ground corn.  They began as a cheap way to fill hungry bellies.  Lately, I see them on snooty foodie shows.  The grit has arrived.  Up for your consideration:  2 easy ways to use grits.  Note:  I only use regular grits.  No quick grits.  NO instant grits.

     I frequently serve grits as a quick-and-easy weekday breakfast.  Mix 1/2 cup grits and 2 cups water in a large microwaveable bowl.  The bowl should seem a bit ridiculously large because the water will bubble up while the grits cook.  Throw in some salt, depending on how salty you like your food.  I add pepper, too.  Cook it 10 minutes on power level 6.  You may need to adjust these settings for your microwave and your taste in grits.  I like mine thick, not watery.  While the grits cook, get out an egg, grated cheese, butter, and milk.  Remove the bowl from the microwave when it finishes, and immediately stir in one raw egg, while the grits are still burning hot.  They will cook the egg, but you can micro it a little longer if you are the nervous sort.  Next, add 1-2 tbsp butter, 1/4-1/2 cup grated cheese, and some milk if it gets too thick.  The purpose of these additions is to enrich the grits with nutrition, calories, and flavor.  My boys don't eat much in the morning, so I pump up the calories.  And they are skinny.  When I make grits for myself, I usually leave out the butter, and just add cheese or an egg.  This recipe serves 3 if they aren't big eaters.  2 if they are.

     While grits are wonderful in the morning, they are becoming increasingly popular as a dinner dish.  Shrimp and grits is a classic, and I have my own quick-as-a-flash version to share with you.  First off, I try to put a bag of dried red beans, a chopped onion, and 8 cups water in the crock pot in the morning.  Let it cook all day on low.  Or the first few hours on high if you will be around to change it to low, and you don't get them in till noon.  Otherwise, canned red beans are fine.  You will need:

Red beans, one bag or 3 cans

1 c grits

4 c water

3 tbsp butter.  Accept no substitutes (like margarine) but olive oil is fine.

bag of pre-cooked shrimp.  I used large, tail-on.  You don't need pre-cooked, really.  I used what I had. Thaw if frozen.

3 tbsp paprika, to taste

Jane's crazy mixed-up pepper.  Or any pepper blend you like.

     Combine the grits and water in that big bowl.  Microwave 13-15 min, power level 6.  Meanwhile, melt the butter in a medium frying pan on high heat.  Drain any water from the shrimp and add them to the pan.  Sprinkle on paprika, salt to taste, and pepper to taste.  Heat the beans if they are canned.  Cook the shrimp until the paprika thickens around them.  Remove from heat.

     Put a serving of grits in a shallow bowl, top with a scoop of beans, and top again with shrimp and sauce.  Enjoy.   Makes about 4 servings.

Bridget loves grits.

Christian Bipolarity

     Please don't ridicule me or call me names for what I am about to share.  I feel certain that I cannot be alone in these feelings, yet I am struggling to find the words to express them.  You see, I am caught between two polar positions in my walk with Christ.
     On the one hand, I am yearning to give more.  I want Christ to make me His hands on this earth.  I want to extend myself to change the lives of others, for the better.  I long to sacrifice my own comfort in order to take the good news of Christ to the hurting and needy people of this world.  I am sometimes disgusted by the luxury in which I live.  I am occasionally disappointed in my children's addiction to the comforts of this American life.  Comforts which I have taught them to crave.

     On the other hand, I am terrified to lose my iron grip on those comforts.  I don't want to give up my stuff.  I love my iPhone.  Yes, I said, "love," and I meant it.  I am happy here in my middle-class suburb, confident that the drinking water will not leave parasites in my children's bellies.  Can't I just be grateful that God has chosen to give these good gifts to me?
     So, my dilemma boils down to the following:                 

                   1.  I long to sacrifice my comfort in service to Christ.

        2.  I am terrified of being asked to give up my creature comforts.
   

     What can I do?  How can I relieve the tension between these desires warring within me?  I have decided on my New Year's resolution.  I am going to keep a journal of all of the services and sacrifices Christ asks of me.  You see, my husband and I try to always be alert and open to opportunities to work for the Lord.  We pick up hitchhikers, replace flat tires, pay overdue bills, support children in other countries, support missionaries, etc.  We do whatever work Jesus puts before us, as much as seems possible.  I'll admit, sometimes we fail to notice opportunities, and sometimes we just get lazy.  I figure, though, that a journal will help me to see more clearly where Jesus is leading me.  And to run fast enough to dog His glorious heels.  

     Oh, Lord, lead me on.

THIS EPISODE'S DIY

     I have noticed that buying sweet tea is now considered the norm.  Why?  This quick-and-easy-to-make Southern beverage is SO much better homemade.  You can customize it to your tastes and needs.  And, trust me, there is nothing like freshly-brewed sweet tea.  I can give you the basics.  I suggest you make it, see how you like it, and tweak it a bit each time you make it until it is perfect.

Sweet Tea

4 or 5 family size (large) tea bags

small pot (saucepan)

1-2 cups sugar, or equivalent sweetener

1-gallon jar or pitcher

Fill your small saucepan/pot with water.  Bring it to a boil on high heat.  Turn off the burner and add your tea bags.   Leave to steep 5 minutes.  Meanwhile, put the pitcher down in your sink.  Fill about 3" with water and stir in the sugar until it dissolves. 







 Keeping the tea bags in the pot, pour the steeped tea into the pitcher.  Refill the pot with cold water.  More flavor will seep from the tea bags into this fresh water, so keep the tea bags in the pot throughout this process.  Pour the water into the tea.  





Keep refilling the pot and adding the water to the tea until you have a gallon.  Enjoy over ice while it is still warm.  Must be refrigerated after a while.  If you leave it on the counter overnight, it gets sour.  

Tweaks:  How sweet the tea should be is very subjective.  2 cups is very sweet, like a traditional Southern restaurant.  I use two regular and two decaf tea bags, plus 4 green tea bags.  I always use Lipton.  Some people take the water off the burner and wait for all boiling to stop before adding the tea bags.  Some people actually boil the bags.  I take a middle road.  I leave the pot on the hot burner, turn off the burner, and add the bags.  Boiling increases the strength of the flavor but adds a bit of bitterness.  Sugar counteracts bitterness though.  This is a matter of taste.  I suggest you try the middle road and move in whichever direction your tastebuds require.  You can also alter the length of steeping time.  I personally prefer a glass pitcher or jar for storage.  I like drinks in glass.  You may prefer the durability of plastic.  I use stevia to sweeten my tea.  Many people don't like the taste of stevia.  At any rate, I hope you will try and enjoy this traditional beverage, which is filled with antioxidants.  And so much more elegant than soda.  Happy sipping!

Pocket Change

     What does it mean to be rich?  After all, even chocolate milk can be rich.  Christmas season always seems to bring me to these introspective questions.  Am I rich?  When Jesus speaks to the rich, am I included?  Do labels such as, "rich in love" truly have meaning?

Paula pours the wine and we remember Christ's sacrifice

     Surely, I think, a rich person would be someone I would envy; therefore, I have cast about in my mind for someone I envy.  The truth is, I am not certain what it means to envy someone.  I do know that where jealousy denotes ill will, envy denotes a longing.  Yes, there is someone whose life details fill me with longing:  my mother's pastor, Paula.   I find myself intrigued by and drawn to her life.  The details and requirements of her life would keep me from living it, but the longing I feel could be equated to a benign envy, I think.
      You see, Pastor Paula lives a life of intentional poverty, singleness, and devotion to God and His people.  She lives in an impoverished neighborhood close to the church.  She remains single and gives her full attention to her flock of churchgoers and the people God sends her way.  One Sunday, Paula shared that many people come to her during the week, asking for some very small help.  Paula took to keeping five dollar bills on her person to hand to the people for their small needs.  One bill here, two or three there.  Paula lives on a tight budget, and she shared that she always ran out of money before the week was out.

My daughter changes the world $7 at a time.  Her club volunteered to man the
Operation Christmas Child distribution center for a weekend.

     This is how you change the world, five dollars at a time:  my mother was moved deeply by Paula's story.  She took to handing Paula a five dollar bill at the end of each Sunday service.  Soon enough, moved by the Holy Spirit, Mom was restless and wanted to do more.  She asked me what I thought she should do.  I simply suggested that she hand Paula two five dollar bills and see where the Holy Spirit led her from there.  She did so.
     As of this writing, and as far as I know, Mom has significantly increased her regular giving to the church; she has continued to increase her five dollar bill giving; she buys a goodly amount of food for needy children fed by a program through her church; and she is leading a ladies' group in a study of Crazy Love, by Frances Chan.   I see Mom's growing sensitivity to the movement of the Spirit, her desire to make the world more like the Kingdom of God, and I feel envy.  Mom has grown rich.  I want to be rich like that.  The Holy Spirit stirs within me.  I must act.

     Perhaps you will see me grow rich, and you will feel envy.  You may be intrigued by the details of my life.  The Holy Spirit may stir within you, and you may act.  The world will change a little bit.  You will become rich.  Perhaps you will move someone else to feel envy.  They will want to be rich, like you.  That is how we change the world, five dollars at a time.

This Episode's DIY

     I know that making hot cocoa with a mix is incredibly easy and fairly tasty, but have you ever read the ingredients in that stuff?  The small effort and amount of time you will invest in homemade cocoa is definitely worthwhile.  I think you will be as surprised as I was at how easy it is to make.  Here are two recipes I use.

Perfectly Chocolate Hot Cocoa (from Hershey's)

2 tbsp sugar*

2-3 tsp cocoa

dash salt

1 cup milk

1/4 tsp vanilla extract

Mix sugar, cocoa, and salt in a large mug.  Heat milk in microwave at HIGH 1 1/2 minutes or until hot.  Gradually add hot milk to cocoa mixture in mug, stirring until well blended.  Stir in vanilla.  Serves 1.                                                                                                             *I use sweetener, usually stevia.

Hot Cocoa for a Crowd

1 1/2 cups sugar

1 1/4 cups cocoa

1/2 tsp salt

3/4 cup hot water

1 gallon milk

1 tbsp vanilla extract

Combine sugar, cocoa and salt in 6-quart saucepan; gradually add water.  Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until mixture boils.  Boil and stir 2 minutes.  Add milk.  Heat to serving temperature, stirring frequently.  Do not boil.  Remove from heat; stir in vanilla.  Serve hot.  Makes about 22 (6-oz) servings.  

      You could easily find advice online for mixing up the dry ingredients and keeping them on hand that way, I am certain.  We like to play with these recipes, adding coffee or liqueur or some such things.  The cocoa is incredibly delicious, and with the real milk in it, you are being nourished body and soul.  Enjoy!

Restless Leg Syndrome

     "It kinda disturbs me that you've been feeling restless about who you are," he said.  I suppose it would be confusing.  He is 17, and I am 43.  I was his teacher in youth small group.  Surely I should know exactly who Christ wants me to be?
     I used to be so certain of who I was.  I am an academic.  I am a wife and mother.  I am a youth minister.  I am a missionary.  I am...not sure.
     I miss that clarity of vision.  I miss that clarity deep down in a part of my soul which is plagued by a gnawing hunger.  I hunger for the Holy Spirit to speak clearly to me of straight paths and brightly-lit places.  I am 43, and bubbling up inside of me are new longings, new dreams.  These visions are vague, slippery.  I  awaken with them on the tip of my tongue, but they slip away before I can find my glasses and write them down.
     I get up in the mornings, get the kids to school, begin tidying up.  My stomach churns a bit.  I am dissatisfied.  I call an older woman for advice.  She assures me that Christ has called me to be a wife and mother, that its a high calling and pleasing to God.  Trust me, I am not a bored homemaker looking for a career.  I am a voyager seeking the best route.  Although I have no idea where that route may meander, I know its name:  The Footsteps of Christ.
     I want to dog Christ's heels so closely that I risk giving Him a flat tire.  I want to sell everything, take up my cross, and follow Him.  Instead, I fold my children's clean clothes, sigh, and get to making supper.  I indulge myself in small steps, perhaps not right on Jesus' heels, but still within a stone's throw.  I give money to those who ask.  I volunteer at charities.  I love people.  A lot.  I try to treat everyone as if they were more important than I am.  I watch to see where God is working, then I try to join in His work (thank you, Henry Blackaby, for that advice).  Step by step, we can leave our old selves behind.  Step by step, we are building a kingdom.  A kingdom that exists among us.  A beautiful city.
     I look him in the eyes and I say, "Well, restlessness is part of the Christian condition, since we are not of this world.  We should long for home.  If we get too comfortable here, we risk loving this world too much."  He agrees with me.  It's ok if I don't find the perfect place for myself here.  I know where my perfect place is, and I will follow my Leader all the way home.