What lies beneath...

2 boys + 2 shovels + 1 patch of dirt + 1 bucket = worms!

It's funny, but in the two-plus years we've lived here, I have never seen a worm. It never even occured to me that the squirmy little creatures wriggle just below the surface of our sod. Out of sight, out of mind I guess.

Growing up just a hundred or so miles north of here, worms were commonplace. For some reason they'd pour onto the sidewalk after every rain. My nose still remembers the musty, pungent odor of squished squigglers.

But rain or no rain, I've never seen one of the creepy crawlers rise to ground level here. Funny how I just assumed that what I can't see isn't really there.

I think sometimes I assume/hope that the ickiness in my life works that same way. If it can't be seen on the surface, it must not really be there.

The truth is though, that for every stray misdeed that works its way to the surface, there's a tangled network hidden below. And unlike the pail full of earthworms that occupied my sons on a recent afternoon, what's buried under my surface would be more likely to disgust them (and little boys aren't easily disgusted! What's up with their appetite for snot-covered germ balls?).

For all their repulsiveness though, worms are useful. They aerate and fertilize the soil making the earth more suitable for growing plants.

I suppose there could be a parallel there too. Seeing the ugliness within reminds me of my need for the Master gardener to till the hardened soil of my heart so it can be used to cultivate His fruits.

Lord, please take the things that I try to keep hidden and bring them to my awareness. Use them to help me see the work You are doing in my life. Take what is ugly and seemingly harmful in my life and turn it around to create fertile soil ready to cultivate all the really good things You desire for me.

My Morning Glory Babies

“Train up a child in the way they should go,

and when they are old they will not depart from it.” Proverbs 22:6

At our newlywed home, there was a little brick 'planter' at the top of the steps to the front door. It was occupied by a big “freeway daisy” when we moved in. Not the prettiest plant in the kingdom. The foliage is somewhat scraggly and the flowers spindly. It was large enough that it encroached on the doorway. At least, this was my list of complaints against the plant when I chose to uproot it.

Long before I tried to actually get the daisy out, I knew that in its place I would plant a morning glory. I could just picture the vine with pretty, lush leaves that would climb the porch post, accented by the almost iridescent purple/blue single petal flowers. I don’t have much of a green thumb, but I know that once morning glories are established, they can grow like weeds, taking over fences and porches and arbors. I figured I should have pretty good success with such a hardy vine.

And while it was no small feat to get the ugly bush out--it was probably 4 feet across with a root that went down eighteen inches (I discovered after I ambitiously decided to remove it on my own one day)--it made the replacement even more beautiful to me.

Once planted though, my specimen seemed to have a difficult time winding up the pole that supported that corner of the roof. I wound a piece of clothesline rope up the post for it to follow. I'd train it up the twine in the afternoon and in the morning I'd find piled in a heap at the bottom of the post. I’d try to coax it back up, gently tucking it under the rope, and later I'd see a tendril reaching away into space, looking for some sort of support. I'd wind it around again. The vine would make a little progress up, then I’d find it collapsed around the bottom of the post again.

The plant never did really “take” the way I’d hoped it would. All the conditions were right; it got great sunlight in the morning, there was plenty of water, I probably even talked to it if that really makes a difference. It wasn't until several years later, after we moved to a location that didn’t get nearly enough sunshine to keep a morning glory happy, that I finally learned what I did wrong.

I missed one really important factor. I didn’t know that morning glories naturally wind counterclockwise. I wound mine clockwise. No wonder the poor thing couldn’t thrive; I was trying to train it against its nature!

It has occurred to me that kids are like that morning glory. They are pre-designed with a specific bent that can’t be changed with coercion or guidewires. An introvert can learn to be friendly, but they may always be drained by being involved in many activities with lots of other kids. The bookworm may find areas of competence on the athletic field, but might never develop a competitive streak that will make them a champion.

Although a total extrovert, people have always commented on Bug’s ability to focus on one task and entertain himself for long periods of time at even a very young age. While he loves going to school and being around lots of kids, we've discovered he also needs some "alone time" when he gets home to decompress.

Boo, on the other hand, is all physical all the time. He loves to run and crash and wrestle--even with me! He may bring me a story to read, but it’s most likely one that requires loud sound effects, funny voices or motions that accompany the words. And it isn't the entertainment of the story he's really after, it's his way of letting me know that he wants to slow down and have some lap time. He desires physical contact even in his quiet moments.

Having seen the effects when I misread my morning glory, I know I don’t want to repeat my botanical failures with my babies. There is no Sunset Western Garden handbook that explains which direction to wind them so they can bloom to their fullest.

Will my children fall into a proverbial heap of failure because I am expecting things counter to their God-given nature? Will they reach out to find another support because what I offer isn't what they need? Or will I, knowing their hearts and strengths and nature, provide the right foundation from which they can grow and climb to unimaginable heights and blossom to the fullness for which they were created?

Morning Glory Muffins
Serve Morning Glory Muffins when you need a reminder that each member of your family has a God-given bent that they must follow. It's our job to provide the right environment for them to bloom.

INGREDIENTS
• 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 1/4 cups sugar
• 3 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 2 teaspoons baking soda
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 3 eggs
• 3/4 cup applesauce
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract
• 2 cups grated carrots
• 1 medium tart apple, peeled and grated
• 1 (8 ounce) can crushed pineapple, drained
• 1/2 cup flaked coconut
• 1/2 cup raisins
• 1/2 cup chopped walnuts

DIRECTIONS
In a large bowl, combine flour, sugar, soda, cinnamon and salt. In another bowl, combine the eggs, applesauce, oil and vanilla. Add dry ingredients to egg/applesauce mixture; do not over mix. Gently stir in carrots, apple, pineapple, coconut, raisins and nuts.

Fill greased or paper-lined muffin cups two-thirds full. Bake at 350 degrees F for 20-24 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean. Cool for 5 minutes before removing from pans to wire racks.

On Being Grateful for the Raisins

Today, I made a special effort to make homemade muffins for the boys for breakfast/snack.

I have a big thing of oatmeal that I want to use in creative ways (because I myself can't stand it as mush). I also always have a half an apple around that Boo didn't finish and I'm tired of throwing them away.

So I found (what I thought was) a great recipe for Oatmeal Apple muffins.

I learned:

1. They pretty much only like muffins with frosting. Which is kind of just a cupcake.
2. They only like raisins if they are NOT in a muffin.

So, what was meant to be something special for them ended up feeling like a wasted effort. As did the pasta I made for lunch (which they ended up having for dinner because I wasn't going to strike out a 3rd time and if they get hungry enough, the meal they didn't want at lunch looks pretty good).

It was one of those days where I know I'm experiencing what my mom did. The days that all moms know. You buy the teenage girls something special; they hate it and won't wear it. You plan a special afternoon with your pre-teen boy and all he really wants is to ride his skateboard in the street with his buddies.

There's no gratitude for the thought or intention; just a rejection of the effort and a stubborn resistance to whatever wasn't up to their standards or in their plan.

In the end, my frustration today wasn't as much about my efforts being rejected as much as it is my concern that maybe I give them what they want so often, they don't understand the concept of being grateful for the things they don't want.

Like at Christmas when they're looking for that one special gift. It might be in the pile, but sometimes they go through a lot of other gifts before they get to that one. Often, the things that were overlooked and unappreciated become favorites as time goes by, but in that moment they aren't grateful.

I know I do the same thing with God. I ask for the things I want. I get what I get. Well actually, I get what He thinks is best for me. And sometimes what I get is a steak dinner instead of the Lucky Charms and milk that I was craving. It's hard to believe that sometimes I'm not grateful for the steak at the moment.

But I want to be.

I want to trust that my heavenly father knows what I really need and gives to me accordingly, even when it feels like I'm just not getting what I want.

As I learn to be grateful for the things that I don't think I want, maybe I can teach my children to be grateful for the 'raisins' too.

Matthew 7:11

"If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

Muffins of Gratitude

I'm going to make these muffins in the future when I need a reminder to be grateful for what God brings into my life--whether it's what I think I want/need or not. (And despite the protestations, they're actually very moist, tasty, quick and healthy.)

1/2 c. pancake mix (I used Krusteaz Oat Bran Pancake mix)

1 c. uncooked oatmeal

1/2 c. brown sugar (I was out; white worked fine)

1 1/2 tsp. cinnamon (omitted since the pancake mix had some and the kids aren't fans)
1 tbsp. flax seed meal (optional)

1/2 c. peeled chopped apple
1/3 c. raisins

1 c. lowfat milk

1 egg

1/4 c. oil (I substituted applesauce)

Heat oven to 375 degrees.

Spray bottoms of muffin tins with non-stick spray. Combine pancake mix, oats, sugar and cinnamon. Stir in chopped apple and raisins.

Stir together remaining ingredients. Add to dry ingredients, mixing just until dry ingredients are moistened.

Fill muffin cups 3/4 full. Bake 15 to 20 minutes. Makes 1 dozen.

Cross Cultural Experience

In a nod to the excesses of the past few years, MTV created a show that featured unbelievably wealthy parents indulging their indescribably spoiled children with "Sweet 16" parties with price tags in excess of the cost of the average family home in at least 70% of the country.

Two years later some of those families are starting to see that they've created mini-monsters who are so used to being coddled and catered to that they run the risk of living at home and sponging off their parents for a good long time. So the parents have joined forces with MTV to give the kids an experience intended to "unspoil" them. The kids, now 18-ish, are sent to live for a week in situations varying from reindeer herding in the frozen tundra of Norway to picking up elephant dung in the jungles of Thailand.

It remains to be seen whether any of those young people really are changed long-term, but it got me thinking that it isn't only the exceedingly wealthy who benefit from seeing "how the other half lives."

I've had a few different kinds of experiences. When I was very young our church put on the evening service once a month at the local Rescue Mission. It wasn't the most comfortable experience for a young girl, but it was probably a good training ground for the days when I reached high school and my parents went into full time rescue work.

I worked with youth for many years and had the opportunity to go on various trips to serve in different capacities in Mexico. They were each significant in their own way, but there was one episode that really stands out as having a life-changing effect on me.

On one trip, a couple of us left the main group and accompanied a local missionary to a small village to conduct a children's Bible club. We drove down a rough dirt road past a row of tiny corrugated shacks. Children poured out of the humble dwellings, eagerly surrounding the station wagon.

We played some games while Elizabeth, the missionary, prepared for the class. Jose, a shy little boy about six years old took my hand as we led the group into the trailer for story time. He climbed into my lap so he could see the flannel board.

What happened next was one of those moments frozen in time where a half-dozen thoughts and feelings come flooding in all at once. As Jose turned to look at me, for just a moment, Jose's face faded away and it was no longer Jose in my lap, but Jeremy, a former student of mine; a young man who lived in a different set of difficult circumstances.

In that instant I realized that but for God's providence, my friend could be this little boy in Mexico. Living a life with little education. Little in the way of comforts. Little hope of a life any different than what Jose's family had.

Or it could be me.

But it's not.

It's not by chance that I was born in Lansing, Michigan rather than the jungles of Ecuador. It is no fluke that I had the opportunity to be educated. Nor was it simply coincidence that my mother consistently took us to church and that I have grown in faith since a young age.

The responsibility of God's graciousness to me struck me like it never had before. I am in awe of all that God has entrusted to me. He has a plan for me. I can lose sight of that if I compare myself to others who seem to have more than me.

God chose me to be born in America, to be educated, to know Him. I can best be used by Him right where I am, with the opportunities and gifts He has provided me.

I think God has placed each of us just where we can best accomplish His work. We may not feel rich, but we don't have to wait until we have a certain amount of money or education or experience to be used by God. As we give out of our poverty--poverty of pocket, poverty of spirit, or poverty of experience--the Lord will bless our offerings and magnify them to His glory.

Now Jesus sat opposite the treasury and saw how the people put money into the treasury. And many who were rich put in much. Then one poor widow came and threw in two mites...So he called his disciples to Himself and said to them, "Assuredly I say to you that this poor widow has put in more than all those who have given to the treasury; for the all put in out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty put in all that she had, her whole livelihood." Mark 12:41-44

Cheese Pennies

These simple, flavorful little crackers are a reminder that the Lord can use what we give Him out of our poverty even more than a great amount given out of our abundance.

2 cups (about 16 oz) finely grated cheddar cheese
1 cup (2 sticks) butter, room temp.
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon paprika
1/4 teaspoon cayenne

In a medium bowl, cream butter until fluffy. Add grated cheese and blend together well. Sift together dry ingredients. Add to cheese mixture a little at a time, mixing until a stiff dough is formed.

Shape into logs about 1 inch in diameter. Place on waxed paper. To slice into "pennies," use dental floss (non-minty) or thread. Slide under log, cross ends over top of log and pull, slicing through.

Gather pennies back into log shapes or place on plate and cover with foil. Refrigerate overnight or freeze for a couple hours before baking (they will bake more evenly if all the ingredients have reached the same temperature).

Place on an ungreased cookie sheet and bake in a 375 degree oven for 10-12 minutes. Cool on a wire rack, store in an airtight container.

Photo and recipe originally appeared in "Tea and Inspiration," copyright Mary Pielenz Hampton. All rights reserved.

Right of Way

There's a little town next door to ours that lays claim to "the highest per capita income" in the state. Now I'm not really sure of that statistic--I can think of a few other places with just as few "shoddy" neighborhoods and just as many chic inhabitants--but that's what they believe of themselves to some extent.

We like visiting the downtown area because there are cute shops and wide, tree-lined walks with lots of streetside dining. It's a relaxing place to spend an afternoon or get an ice cream after dinner.

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One aspect I am less impressed with though, is the driving. Twice today I drove through one particular intersection that I've learned to watch very carefully. It's a 4-way stop but you'd never know it. There seems to be a "law of the land" that supercedes state driving regulations and somehow authorizes the person with the fanciest vehicle to barely stop (if at all) and cut off the more lowly driver. (Guess which car I was in?!) Ironically, the car I was driving is the nicest we've ever had; but when put up against the Land Rovers and Mercedes, we don't measure up.

The first time I was cut off today, I was annoyed but didn't respond in any particular way. The second time, I saw the fancy SUV coming to the stop to my left and just had a feeling they were going to blow by me. The law here is that if two cars pull to an intersection at the same time (we didn't) the car to the right has the right of way (umm...that would be me). I went ahead and began to pull into the intersection, looking at the other driver looking at me and pulling out anyway. Once again it seemed like the law of "bigger/fancier" won again over the actual highway regulations. (And I have to admit I did honk this time.)

The sense of entitlement reminded me of an encounter I had a few years ago.

I hardly noticed the man as hubs and I walked to a table in the cafe at our favorite bookstore. He stood at the back of the line, perusing the overhead menu before placing his order. I recognized him as a familiar homeless man--many of the homeless have adopted this bookstore as their new daytime hangout. Coffee is cheap, refills free and you can curl up in a comfortable chair and read all day without anyone really bothering you.

After a few minutes, I got up to take my place in line to order. The shabbily dressed, unkempt, slight man was still at the back of the line. As I approached to take my place behind him, he turned to me as though expecting me to go first. He had been standing there quite a long time, so I indicated that he should go ahead of me.

The look of surprise on the man's face startled me. I realized that the man must be used to people generally looking past him as though he isn't really there, cutting him off, preventing him from taking a place in line--or a place in society--that the rest of us take for granted.

It brought tears to my eyes to realize how often we can diminish the value of other people because they aren't dressed as nicely as we are, or they don't speak the language as well as we do, or they pay for their coffee with money they've collected by recycling soda cans.

Dear Abby once said, "The best index to a person's character is how he treats people who can't do him any good and how he treats people who can't fight back."

Now, I'll admit that I do struggle in situations like the intersection when I know I have "the right of way," but I hope that I don't create my own entitlement situations where I decide that I get to "go first" because I fancy myself somehow more important.

"Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves." Phillipians 3:2

Poor Man Cookies

These unusual cookies can serve as a reminder to keep the proper perspective about our own importance and sense of entitlement.

3 eggs

1/4 cup milk

1/4 cup sugar

2 3/4 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

vegetable oil for frying

confectioner's sugar for dusting

In large bowl, beat eggs, milk, sugar and salt together. Gradually blend in flour to form soft dough.

Pour dough onto waxed paper, cover and refrigerate for 30 minutes. When chilled, roll dough into a 1/4 inch thick rectangle. With pastry cutter or sharp knife, cut into 3-inch squares.

Cut a slash diagonally across each square. Carefully pull one corner through the slash. Repeat until all dough is used.

In a deep-fat fryer or heavy, deep sided pan, heat about 2 inches of oil to 375 degrees. Fry dough twists a few at a time for one to two minutes, until golden colored. Turn once or twice to brown on both sides..

Place twists on double thicknesses of paper towels to drain. When cool, sprinkle with powdered sugar.

Cock-eyed Optimism

I'm not sure that I'm really an optimist by nature. At the heart I think I'm a tad cynical and slightly suspicious. Interestingly though, the older I get, the less I'm ruled by that side of my nature.

I think it has to do with my own achilles heel. The very WORST thing in the world to me is being misunderstood. We all desire to be known and accepted for who we truly are. I don't know about you, but worse than being rejected for who I really am is being rejected for something I'm not. It is extremely difficult for me to be misjudged due to a misunderstanding and to not have the opportunity (or the words) to set the situation right.

Unfortunately, it seems to have been my lot in life for as long as I can remember. I never felt really understood by my parents (although my grandfather seemed to "get me," so that helped some). We moved a lot when I was growing up, so I don't have the consistency of long-term relationships that lead to deep understanding.

I've had ministry positions and jobs where I was viewed with suspicion, or judgments were made based on misconstrued events and outright gossip. Too often, by the time the circumstances came to light, there was no correcting the false perceptions so I had to walk away from the situation knowing I'd been misunderstood once again.

I'd like to say that doesn't happen any more, but it seems that as long as I'm willing to put myself out there--to risk building friendships, try to serve in some capacity or another, even to offer encouragement to someone I know needs it--I run the risk of being misunderstood and misjudged. It still hurts.

There's a part of me that wants to shut down. Keep my overtures of friendship to myself. Limit my "service" to the people who live in my house. Withhold the words that I hope will be a healing salve because I don't want to run the risk of having someone take my heart, twist it and throw it back at me as something ugly.

And that's where God steps in. He takes the most elemental aspects of our character and turns them around in a way that goes completely against our nature. But that's the point--it's Super-natural.

I'm glad that despite the deep hurts, He's given me the grace to be able to assume the best even when the same isn't offered to me. While it's true that I'm not blind to the negative things that I encounter--or that are directed toward me--I don't have to respond or operate solely on that level. It is my aim to give others the same benefit of the doubt that He gives me; an awareness that they (and I) are not yet perfect, that He's still at work in me (and them) and that the best I can do is encourage the good and let Him deal with the rest.

Some people consider this an immature or shallow perspective--or worse, fake--but honestly, it's taken a great deal of maturing for me to reach this place. So rather than see each situation in a Hi-Def, warts and all manner, I'll stick with seeing through the filter of eyes that let in His light.

Matthew 6:22
"The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness."

Pretty Eyes
These cookies are called "Pretty Eyes." They are a reminder to me to look for the good and to overlook anything else. The result is a kind of cock-eyed optimism, but that sure beats the alternative.

Ingredients:
Your favorite rolled shortbread or sugar cookie dough (packaged dough will work too).
Any jam you like

Preheat oven to recipe specifications.

Roll dough to about 1/4" thickness. With a 3" biscuit cutter or drinking glass, cut overlapping rounds so you get eye-shaped pieces. Gather scraps into a ball, re-roll and cut more eye-shapes until all of dough is used.

With a bottle cap or 1" round cookie cutter, cut a circle from the center of half the eye-shapes.

Place on cookie sheet and bake according to recipe instructions. Cool on wire rack.

When completely cooled, spread the whole cookies with jam and dust the cut-out cookies with confectioners sugar. Top jammy cookie with hole-y cookie.

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Seeing Clearly

While working in the yard one day, my mom turned at just the wrong moment and got poked in the eye with a peach branch. It took a doctor over an hour to remove all the debris, and she had to wear an eye patch for several days. Even after the patch was removed, the eye was bruised and sensitive for a long time and she had to take care not to get other irritants in it. In a very real sense, she learned what most of us will never know first hand about having a "log" in our eye.

Try this--get a needle and thread, close one eye and try to thread the needle while holding it at least a foot from your eye. How long does it take you? Do you find yourself moving it closer to your open eye?

The problem is, when you have only one good eye, depth perception is lost, so you can't see very far or very accurately. Imagine trying to detect something small in another person's eye when you only have one eye to use. To make it more challenging there is a large object protruding out of your eye that makes it impossible to get close enough to really see what you are doing.

"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye.

I think judging usually starts with looking to see where we stand in relation to other people. If we think we are ahead of the game, at least in our own estimation, we can justify backing off working on the areas where we fall short.

Oswald Chambers said, "Which of us would dare stand before God and say, "My God, judge me as I have judged my fellow men'?..The measure you mete out is measured to you again...If you have been shrewd in finding out the defects of others, that will be exactly the measure meted out to you; people will judge you in the same way."

It seems like the most often quoted passage of scripture these days is “Do not judge...” Of course, in the context it gets used, it usually means that someone is judging someone else for judging! I also know that sometimes “not judging” is kind of easier said than done.

Two things have helped me begin to overcome the critical spirit that seems to be part of my DNA. The first is realizing that when I look at the example I have in Christ and am working on the things I need to work on, I don't have time to worry about others' shortcomings. When I’m busy doing what God has given me to do, I’m not even aware of what someone else is or isn’t doing. Several times in the year+ since we moved here, God has very plainly showed me that my primary occupation for the moment is to help our family settle in and to create a supportive atmosphere for Hubs work. Sometimes I think I need to be more involved in the classroom or maybe leading something at church. But I’m only responsible for doing what God puts on my plate and for this season, with two pre-school aged kids, that keeps me pretty close to home. The day will come when they’ve got friends and activities of their own and I’ll branch into other things as well. I hope that I’ll remember this season in my life and be gracious with others who might not be in a position to take on what I think they should.

I’ve also learned that I don’t know what God is doing in someone else’s life; the things I think I see may not be the things he’s working on yet—and it’s none of my business! Years ago I saw the harm done when someone felt God had revealed some new truths in their life. That in itself is a great thing, but the spirit they demonstrated while expecting everyone else to get on board with them was anything but great. I remembered thinking how ironic it was that it took God 20+ years to bring these revelations to light in this person’s life, but they had no patience for anyone who wasn’t instantly on the same wavelength.

God works in each of us at his own pace to His glory. I think the best we can do if we see something that may seem to be a blindspot for someone is to pray first that we aren’t blind in that area. If there is anything to be done at that point it’s more likely to be to come alongside them and see how we can help rather than being critical and especially taking our “concerns” to anyone other than God. I have a feeling he doesn't need our help "fixing" people as often as we think he does!

These rich log cookies can be a reminder that it is more important for us to deal with our own flaws and shortcomings before we worry about those we think we see in others.

Date Planks
1 ½ cups flour
1 teasp. baking powder
1 teasp. salt
3 eggs
1 ½ cups lt brown sugar (packed)
1 ½ cups (8 oz.) pitted, chopped dates
¾ cup chopped walnuts or pecans

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
In a medium bowl, mix together flour, baking powder and salt. Add dates and toss gently to coat with flour mixture. Set aside.

In a large bowl, beat eggs until light and frothy. Beat in the brown sugar. Gradually mix in flour and dates. Fold in nuts.

Spread mixture into a greased 9x13-inch baking pan. Bake for 30 minutes or until top is light brown and toothpick inserted into center comes out clean.

Cool in pan for about 15 minutes, then cut into ½-inch by 3-inch “planks.” Cool on wire rack and store in airtight container.



Adapted from material previously published in A Tea for All Seasons, Mary Pielenz Hampton, 1997. All rights reserved.