COME BE INSPIRED AND IGNITE A PASSION FOR PURPOSE!
Wednesday, December 23, 2015
Merry Christmas everyone! Wishing all a wonderful start to a New Year! It is possible! I invite you to dive into our newest issue of Food For Soul Magazine, a very special anniversary edition. I compiled 12 months of inspirational articles with new ones! Pull up to the table and feast on some FOOD FOR THE SOUL! -Brenda
The first day of the week, Monday after Thanksgiving....I woke up in such a funk it was unbelievable. What was wrong with me? It was rainy and cold outside, but that never usually got to me. It's perfect writing weather. I knew I was a little worn out for one. It had been a very long exhaustive week. The kids and I had volunteered at a community wide Thanksgiving dinner the day before the actual celebration serving nearly 1,000 or more people. I wasn’t stressed about doing that since I am passionate about this kind of work and since no one was coming for Thanksgiving at our home, I knew it would be a restful one with little preparation.
I had invited my adult children the week prior but hadn’t either heard back from them, or they had other plans as far as I knew. Therefore, my husband and I decided we would cook a simple meal. We were not in a hurry to clean the house, or prepping the meal all week like usual. It was just going to be my two teens and us so no biggie. When I expect guest I usually prepare the foods days in advance, so all I have to do is heat up and serve on Thanksgiving.
But as we all have experienced, things don't always go the way we plan.
So this is how the day went down. My husband and I decided to sleep in instead of getting up at the usual 5 a.m. to prepare turkey. I receive a text by Child #1 that she and her family were going to join us and that she was cooking some dishes. I tiredly groan over to my husband announcing we needed to get up and start cooking. We get into the kitchen where there were mounds of dishes from the night before. Hubby commences to washing, and I begin preparing my cornbread for stuffing.
Happily chopping away while listening to Christmas music…I suddenly realize the cornbread had a horrific odor. Oh my Lord….I had accidentally cooked it with Masa instead of cornmeal! I had to toss the entire thing out! I had no more ingredients to do a make-over. I felt like I was working in Cut-Throat Kitchen where someone had traded out my ingredients for $5000 to sabotage me. What was I to do? About that time Child #2 shows up. We had no clue he was coming. Surprise!
Instead of jumping up and down with the excitement of guest arriving, I immediately go into counting heads to ensure we have enough food. He reassures me that there is no need to worry about cooking extra since he was just there to visit escaping the fact that others were expecting a meal.
Child #3 text me, on her way. When she arrived, she comments… “Smells like tamales in here”. Gee, I wonder why? The chaotic cornbread was consumed by the trash and permeated the house. Not the smell I was going for. It wasn’t even 11 a.m. yet. I’m getting a little panicked as turkey had been put in roaster literally one hour before their arrival. I knew it wasn’t going to be ready till late afternoon. It was a 25 pounder! Anyhow, child #4 text me, “What time is dinner?” I tell Hubby we have got to go to the store to get more food. We make a mad dash before store closes to find many other parents were in the same boat.
The store was packed! Items were missing off of shelves. I couldn’t find even 1 can of French style green beans, my main purpose for running back to add to my small casserole. I improvise and find frozen. Getting more mushroom soup, and other fixings, as hubby is now starting to huff and puff stating, “Do we really need that? My reply, “What honey? You don’t want butter on your bread or mashed potatoes?” No fried onions on the green-bean casserole? As if I was randomly finding items to drain our bank! I already knew we were in a tight spot and really couldn't afford the extra expense of food, but I couldn't just not prepare the meal for them. I allowed my mothering to get in the way of common sense.
I should have just ordered a pizza and called it a day.
I was highly irritated by the time I got back to car when child #5 calls me, “Can you pick us up something to eat? We’re starving” Are you serious? The fridge had breakfast items, lunch items, and milk. All they had to do was prepare something.
I replied with some caution, but the answer was “UH NO!” We were not spending another dime. We get back to house where the dishes are still piled in the sink, no one bothered to help take care of them while we were gone so mom could have a clean work area to prep their food for consumption.
I felt my heart begin to palpitate with agitation. Big brother decides to take his totally deprived-of-food siblings for take out. Perfect timing to escape the catastrophe in my kitchen. To top it off, it was a hot day for a holiday such as this and with all this cooking! We had freezing weather just days before, but on Thanksgiving the temp would climb to 80 degrees (but of course – only in Texas) would it change on that day! I was about to go into self-combustion at what felt like 150 degrees in my kitchen.
I have a very small kitchen, 1 counter split between sink that is cluttered with dish drain, coffee pot, and a few small appliances I use often. The table in which I was to work on was covered in groceries and ingredients to prepare meal. Our dining table was stacked with school books and work from all week. I even turned to my desk which sits nearly next to stove and pushed my keyboard aside to chop veggies. I was nearly in tears with frustration and overwhelmed trying to piece together a dinner that was nearly impossible in that tiny overcrowded room we call a kitchen. I felt like I was working in a shoe box.
Why would they call this a room?
The definition according to Merriam Webster dictionary is: An extent of space occupied by or sufficient or available for something <room to run and play>.
There was nothing sufficient about this ‘room’! I had more room in my utility ‘room’ to produce a meal then this tiny over cluttered kitchen. My husband and I bumped into one another like ‘grumpier old men’ as we snarled a few times at one another.
Can you feel the love and gratitude on Thanksgiving? Truth, I was glad to see my children, but I suddenly was cast into this meal preparation I was not prepared for, and I certainly would not have stood on bad ankle serving the day before at a community-wide dinner if I knew I was going to suddenly be operating my kitchen like Chopped off of Food Network.
I was lacking oven and stove-top space. Thank goodness we stuck the turkey in the roaster. I only did that to avoid an overly hot kitchen with oven on all day. But, oh that wasn’t a problem either…because the oven quit working mid-way through cooking and especially after I had placed a rice casserole in.
Can you say crunch crunch? The rice never cooked thoroughly. My adult children looked at me in disbelief when I started to cry during 3rd breakdown in kitchen, this time it was not being able to find utensils to stir food, measuring cups, or anything else I needed for that matter.
My younger children #5, and #6 had flip idly stored them somewhere while putting away dishes, and probably in the same place our missing forks and spoons are.
Like everything else that comes up missing in this house, they grew legs and walked off.
I was increasingly getting upset as no one, hardly offered to come in the kitchen and lend a hand until after my frantic mindset. I was hurt. I was in disbelief that my children in which I have profusely taught charity, and servant-hood for nearly 24 plus years mostly believed in practicing this in someone else’s home…just not with their ‘mom’...well at least not that day. I get it, they are grown working, exhausted too...but not the teens, and besides Hubby was breaking his back over dishes constantly despite being on his feet all week and climbing ladders at work. Yet, they have on many occasions all in one way or another helped out growing up, whether it was changing a siblings diaper, mowing a lawn, cooking dinner, sweeping floors, mechanical work...helping us move...etc...they just weren't feeling it that day.
Everyone headed outside to visit and chit chat as I was still in the kitchen feeling jilted. Hubby even escaped the mayhams of my meltdowns. Finally, my middle son offered up some help on mashing the potatoes.
My eldest son grabbed the ham that wouldn’t fit or cook in oven properly, grabbed some wood and tossed on the grill. My husband grabbed his work torch to roast the sweet potatoes that didn’t cook in oven. It was simply culinary.
Team work was starting to take place. By the time my dinner was cooked, my kitchen looked like Thanksgiving had exploded in it. Overflowing trash, chopped goods on floor, pots stacked in sink, herbs and spices spilled nearly everywhere, foil strung out, my nerves shot, and yet I knew this was the day to be thankful for. I looked around and knew in my heart I had to find a reason to be thankful in all of this mess.
It had been such a difficult week as it was with four major appliance break-downs and two of which took place on Thanksgiving.
An automobile that was profusely leaking from every possible hose as if it were hemorrhaging…from being bludgeoned to death. It's still screaming for its grave. But I keep giving it CPR and hydrating it.
I knew despite the crazy coincidence of crap falling apart, it was still a day to be thankful. As I focused in more on the overcrowded stove, I remembered a time I had no meal to cook.
When I thought of the stove not working right, I remember not having a stove to cook on.
To the right I saw the dishes mounting to be washed once again, and thought of the time when I had no running water.
When I heard my children coming in and out of the house laughing and talking, I was reminded of a time when I thought I wouldn’t live to see them grow diagnosed with an illness that could have been terminal.
When I began to complain about my ankle hurting, I remembered serving an elderly man at the community Thanksgiving meal the day before who had walked for miles on bad legs to bring some food back to his sick wife.
As I moaned over the vehicle trying to stroke out on me, I remember having to walk for several miles to and from work while carrying my first child nearly 30 years ago, and then toting two tots and newborn just years later for nearly 2 years to and from work on the metro. I’ve never had great success with vehicles. They break down often. In part because I have never owned anything new. Not that I don’t desire it, just haven’t been able to. We just finished paying off my middle son’s tonsillectomy, a student loan, $64,000 in medical debt over the course of six children, school fees, and replacing broken appliances over the years. Who can afford a new car payment? Anyhow, getting off track here. I didn’t want to spend my evening stressing or complaining.
I realized I was operating in a Martha mentality:
Luke 10:38-42 (NIV) At the Home of Martha and Mary As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”
I didn’t want to be like Martha. I didn’t want the opportunity to visit with my children to pass without me grasping those moments God has graciously allowed for me due to preparations. I served the food, hot or cold, crunchy rice and all, sat down, and finally relaxed as I listened to them tell stories of my interrogation sessions when they were growing up. They all had a good laugh on that one. Just as we were wrapping it up with last visiting son heading out.
Child #1 calls to let me know she was just leaving from her home with goods, by this time the evening was over. She was very disappointed. We were wiped out. Lack of communication really can cause much undo chaos. Planning a get together takes a little work, and needs communication. There is no reason between texting, FaceBooking, Twitter, or Instagram…that a child cannot communicate these days! And there is always the good old fashioned phone call. Hmmmm that’s a new concept. Off my mother ‘soap box’.
Nonetheless, she was able to share her goods with her family. I was blessed to have been able to break bread with five out of the six children I have Thanksgiving. I may have woken up with Monday blues but I believe it had more to do with the fact that days before my tiny kitchen walls held laughter, family, and creative chaos even during the storm of trying to serve up a dinner. It was more than just a blunder in my blender. It was a blessed mess.
I often take my dogs to the park where they are able to run free and play with others of their species. It can get pretty rowdy at times.There are always plenty to choose from.Unlike most dogs, mine would rather chase squirrels then a ball.Occasionally, they will spot one and the grueling chase is on.This of course, can lead to some pretty thirsty pups.
However, the problem is
that one of mine, Dixie, refuses to drink water from the doggy fountain that
all the dogs share. She will run in the
sizzling heat of summer with a grotesque mound of foam around her mouth
displaying what looks to be a rabid dog.
I can call her, nudge her, push her to the fountain, but she literally
will fight me...pulling away. Doesn’t she
understand that she can get some relief from the heat, if she would just succumb
to the water fountain? I’ve never seen
anything like it. I don’t know if she
thinks she is such a princess that she need not to share,
or is she a germ-a-phobic
like me.
Does the water taste bad?
Is she afraid of water?
I don’t know, but I often have to force feed
her bottled water to keep her hydrated. I keep thinking of the old saying ‘you can lead a horse to water, but ya
can’t make them drink’.
How often is
this true in our spiritual life? We are
being wooed, ushered in, invited, and sometimes dragged to the throne of Christ
by loved ones, perhaps our children, or even our spouses...yet some refuse to truly ingest the healing waters of the living fountain.
We war within ourselves and others, avoiding
the cleansing hope of freedom with drinking at the everlasting fount (Jesus
Christ).You can be baptized a hundred
times, say prayer over every meal you consume, give away all your wealth to the
poor, sit in a church pew every time the doors are open, but it will not bring you to the emptying of your soul.
It will not cleanse the daily garbage that
forms in our minds, and hearts in a society of immorality. Before you know it without the often cleansing
of God’s word, and renewing of your mind, you are rabid with thoughts of hate, dishonor,
self-pity, greed, prejudice, insecurity, complacency, and pride (which can also
be-the thinking too much of ‘what’s wrong with me?’ syndrome or false humility) never
growing spiritually or using what time is given to live out God’s purpose due to living solely on emotions.
You can get so stuck in a
negative rut, that not only do folks see a rabid behavior, but the very words
that spew out of someone’s mouth of this spiritual mentality is extremely venomous. It's toxic talk that creates dissension, or constant complaining, never finding anything good in any situation. It gets old hearing it chronically. It causes one to back away.
Just like
the folks who were scared to approach my precious, harmless Dixie, her
appearance of foam around her mouth brought negative feelings and fear on the
very ones she wanted to be petted and loved by.When folk start running the opposite direction of you, it can most
certainly cause additional insecurity.When this happens, you might want to check your speech dialogue button
and flip the channel from the constant negative, critical, ill words to
something a little lighter on the brighter side.You might find yourself so surrounded by
folks you can’t get a word in edge-wise, it’s a good feeling to be loved like
that.
The word “rabid” in Hebrew:
lahahh law-hah' -means to burn, (figuratively, insane); also (from the exhaustion of
frenzy) to languish:--faint, mad.
Staying in a constant state of
frenzy is exhausting!
To stay in a
mindset of anxiety is debilitating. It robs
you of your joy, peace, strength, and most certainly takes away from working
out God’s plan for your life. You can’t
move in the path God wants you to go, if you refuse to trust him.
We cannot trust Him if we don’t
know Him. And to know Him, is to know His
word, and when you know His word, you know that.... to know Him... is to love Him and you can’t help but crave more of Him. It's like that bag of potato chips, one just won't do, you'll want to eat the whole thing!
Nothing in this world can ever compare to the filling of His living
waters.There is nothing that can quench
a soul thirst, not money, not relationships, not titles, friends, material
things, children, spouses, power, not even ministry.
The only one who can fill a thirsty soul,
is Jesus Christ (the living water). The water that flows continually. Grab a big Gulp cup and drink it up, there's no limit on refills!
Revelation 7:17
For the Lamb at the center of the
throne will be their shepherd; ‘he will lead them to springs of living water.’ ‘And
God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.’
I’m not saying there won’t be
times when we aren’t afraid, oh my goodness there were many incidences in the
Bible when mighty men and women of God were used that walked through many
circumstances in doubt and fear, but they didn’t stay there.Gideon for example, had asked God for a sign
three times about the mission God was sending him on because he was so repressed with fear.
Judges 6:11-18
The angel of the Lord came and sat down under the oak in
Ophrah that belonged to Joash the Abiezrite, where his son Gideon was threshing
wheat in a winepress to keep it from the Midianites. 12 When the angel of the
Lord appeared to Gideon, he said, “The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.”
13 “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but if the Lord is
with us, why has all this happened to us? Where are all his wonders that our
ancestors told us about when they said, ‘Did not the Lord bring us up out of
Egypt?’ But now the Lord has abandoned us and given us into the hand of
Midian.”
14 The Lord turned to him and said, “Go in the strength you
have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand. Am I not sending you?” 15 “Pardon me, my lord,” Gideon replied, “but how can I save
Israel? My clan is the weakest in Manasseh, and I am the least in my family.” 16 The Lord answered, “I will be with you, and you will
strike down all the Midianites, leaving none alive.” 17 Gideon replied, “If now I have found favor in your eyes,
give me a sign that it is really you talking to me. 18 Please do not go away until I come back and bring my
offering and set it before you.” And the Lord said, “I will wait until you return.”
We can still choose to drink from the living fountain while
dealing with a world of flooding destruction.
We don’t have to allow the throngs of mass massacres, FaceBookers
posting political hatred, and YouTube, Twitter, and media vengeance seekers to
turn our hearts cold and live rabidly.
We can still have peace in the midst of the storms in this life. The only way to do that is to keep our eyes
on Jesus. There is nothing in this world
that will bring peace, not the perfect president, mayor, government, nor
police. We have to learn to walk in
peace, be in peace, speak peacefully, and quiet our souls with daily doses of
living waters. That is food for the soul.
John 14:27
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give
to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be
afraid.
One afternoon while setting out
to prepare a feast for my family, I had an epiphany. It had been a while since I had cooked a
large home-cooked meal. I haven’t
had much appetite these days since I began really watching what I eat, and so I
have kept the meals very simple. My
husband had commented one eve that I rarely bust out the pots and pans in the
kitchen anymore. True, as I had sort of
gone on strike. I was tired of doing all
the cooking and the cleaning. I would
wake to mounds of dishes in the morning which would start my day off not so pleasant.
I made sure my family had plenty
to eat each night whether it be a frozen meal to heat up, or pizza. Despite my use of preservatives, and additives stance...though I did try my best to stick with the natural frozen stuff.
I can’t digest those type of meals, so I
usually went to bed without dinner...too tired to even cook for myself.
The
past three months had been excruciating, long and tiring. There was always some major issue going on with someone, something or vehicles breaking down. Septic sorrows, a/c repairs, or appliances calling it quits, and with Hubby not around since he was usually parked at his job during the chaos 12-14 hours a day 6 days a week and then thrown on call on days off…by the end of the day...every day for me was spent. Hubby was spent, the children were spent...no body had the energy or desire to do anything!
However, the day arrived when I had just had
enough stress and needed a break away from all the seriousness of life. One of the best ways for me to de-stress is
cooking as long as someone else does the dishes. I totally get into the
scene. I put on my favorite music, light
a few candles for ambiance, throw on the old apron, spread out my utensils, and spices, pour a glass of wine, and hit it! I start
chopping like crazy.
The herbs start
penetrating the air with such an aromatic bliss, they instantly sooth a
restless soul, (of course the wine helps too). I’m singing away as I stir the pots of
liquid gold if making Alfredo sauce, clam chowder or perhaps my infamous ruby
red marinara. As I was preparing
this meal for my family, I suddenly realized how happy I was feeling. I was full of joy which had been absent for
some days...and no I wasn't drunk! Then, almost immediately I began to feel guilty
for feeling happy. Huh? What was wrong with me? My mind started thinking about all the things
I didn’t get accomplished that week.
Suddenly, I was back in stress mode, thinking of closets that needed
cleaning, clothing to be washed, dust bunnies under sofa, paperwork needing sorting, laundry needing folding, cards needing mailing, auto registrations, inspections, book reviews, schoolwork needing grading...and taking care of all the secretarial stuff for Hubby, appointments at school, as well as a magazine to design…UGH! My mind was in a whirlwind of to-do’s.
Until, my loving, compassionate, indisputable,
merciful Father in heaven spoke to my heart.
He said, “Remember when you used to watch your daughter’s play with
their doll houses?" I remembered they would set up the
furniture oh so diligently, organize the kitchen area, place the clothing on
those microscopic hangers, and pretend with such an imagination.
They would make roaring sounds of a car
carting the babies to their playground. They
would mimic mommy and daddy conversations, and discipline their little dolls
for misbehaving. They would sit the dolls around the tiny chairs and pretend to
feast.
It would bring such joy and laughter as I
would watch them play…enjoying themselves. They were so carefree, so innocent, so
happy. I was so happy to see them happy. Nothing makes me happier then to hear the laughter of a child. The squeals of sheer glee beaming out of a toddlers heart. Being reminded of this instantly
brought me to tears. I stopped for a moment to think of how our Father in
heaven must look upon us when we are happy.
It must warm His heart to see His children finally at play, carefree,
and enjoying what He has provided, and allowed for us to experience. Too often we are so busy trying to keep up
with schedules that we put on ourselves we become overwhelmed and lose our
sense of humor and joy.
God never
intended for us to be so busy, even in His business, that we lose our joy. Happiness, and joy are a gift from God. Why on earth would He mention it 165 times in
His word, if it were not something He wanted us to have?
Psalm 28:7
The Lord is my strength and my shield;
my heart trusts in him, and he helps me.
My heart leaps for joy,
and with my song I praise him.
Throughout the Bible... there are
many examples of the kind of joy God wants us to experience. We won’t find our joy in stuff. Materiel things rot away, you can’t take them
to your grave, and they sure won’t give you a hug in the midnight hour. (1 John 2:17) They won’t dry your eyes after
the loss of a loved one, and they certainly can’t comfort a broken heart.
You won't find joy in worshiping an individual. People will never fully meet your expectations. You won't find joy in sensationalism, the hype of media, reality television, or social media. However, God wants us to experience joy unspeakable
(1 Peter 1:8) through worshiping Him, and in turn we receive the unmerited
favor of fun, laughter, happiness, and JOY!
Maybe it’s time to put down the
stack of bills, the negative reports from doctors, turn off the tube of terror,
and media blown madness in this world…and just sit awhile and play with an
imaginary doll house.
This is where you
get to choose how your family is going to act, your neighbors, and even your pets. You can pretend the world is still a nice place to reside in.
Maybe even pretend to be June or Ward Cleaver for a day when life was
simpler.
Whatever you choose to do,
choose joy!
Ecclesiastes 2:24-26 ESV
There is nothing better for a
person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil. This
also, I saw, is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can
have enjoyment? For to the one who pleases Him God has given wisdom and
knowledge and joy, but to the sinner he has given the business of gathering and
collecting, only to give to one who pleases God. This also is vanity and a
striving after wind.
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