Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our life is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see. Corrie Ten Boom
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Letting Go of Our Prayers
A while back I read an allegory about a little girl whose favorite doll was broken. She was so shattered and hurt that she ran immediately to her daddy and pleaded with him to please, please, please repair her precious doll. After all, she slept with this doll, she ate with this doll. This doll was her constant companion. The thought of the doll being broken broke her heart and made her cry. So, her daddy attempts to examine the doll and see what damage was done and what he might do to repair his little girl’s doll. Examining the doll proved to be quite difficult as his little girl would not totally release her doll to the hands of her daddy. He would ask her to release the doll’s foot, which she did, but then she held onto the doll’s arm. The little girl simply could not let go of her doll and hand her completely to her daddy. Her daddy gently hugged his daughter and spoke tenderly to her and explained that unless she released the doll to his care, he would not be able to repair the doll. Reluctantly, the daughter released the doll to her daddy’s care so that he could repair her doll.
Did you ever consider that we are very much like the little girl and that our prayers and concerns are very much like her doll? How often do we hold onto our prayers and concerns and not fully release them to our Heavenly Father who waits patiently for us to release them to Him?
What freedom would we experience if we would only let go and let God have our prayers and concerns. It is when we fully release them that we are fully open to what God can and will do. Abba is Hebrew for “Daddy.” So, when you cry, “Abba God, please answer my prayer,” you are saying, “Daddy!!! Please answer my prayer!”
You, my dear friend, are God’s great delight! He is crazy about you! Did you know that God delights in you so much that He sings over you? Zephaniah 3:17 tells us that, “The LORD your God is in your midst,) a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” (ESV)
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
A Jewel in the midst of Bluebonnets
Having taken time away from the office, my honey swept me away for a ride into the country. He was on a mission and he was not to be deterred. We rode for quite a while before we found these beautiful bluebonnets. He knew that I was missing having seen them this year.
We spent the afternoon riding the roads, listening to tunes, laughing and enjoying God's creation. It was a day to remember and to store away on rainy days when life seems overwhelming. We can simply look at our pictures or...pull from our storehouse of precious treasured memories and live it over again and again!
Here it is - a work of confection...
Please note the craters already peeking through the icing. Would like to say that this was the end of the story...
My honey calls me this morning as he is leaving an early meeting. He tells me that he took the cake and hope that was the right thing to do. I said, "It was okay and that I hoped Cheryl knew that a whole lot of love went into making that cake. The appearance pales to my affection and appreciation for all she does." He went on to say, "Well, the cake kind of slid in the car when I made a turn." To that information I responded rather dryly, "Well, did it improve the appearance?" He laughed and said that he didn't know but would be sure to let Cheryl read my blog.
I am thinking of changing churches!!!
Seriously, Cheryl, if you are reading this, you must know by now how precious and dear you are to our family and our church. Hoping the cake taste MUCH better than the appearance! You are loved and we give thanks for you being in our lives!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Let 'em Eat Cake!
Okay, tomorrow is Administrative Assistance Day and we love our Cheryl. She is the best thing that has happened to us in a long time. Making sure that I remembered that Cheryl LOVES carrot cake with Cream Cheese Icing, months ago I noted in my calendar to make her a carrot cake for Admin. Asst. Day. Plan A -good, until...
The timer chimed and I checked the cake. Perfect! Cake was ready to come out of the oven and to be turned onto the cooling rack. I was in the process of doing just that when the cooling rack caught on my blouse. I was literally hung between the cake pan, the cooling rack and the cabinet.
Calling for help over my shoulder to my honey to no avail as he is watching television. The struggle between me, the cooling rack and the steaming cake pan is growing with great intensity with every passing minute. In a final yelp for help, my honey finally hears me...only...it was too late. As we watch in horror (kind of like watching a train wreck), the cake slides seamlessly out of the pan but breaks apart (in multiple pieces) onto the cabinet. Does "never mind" come to mind? I'm just asking...
My honey, now on point, has made an assessment of the situation and suggests that we put toothpicks in the cake to hold it together. After all, once it is iced, who would know...I'm thinking toothpicks sticking out an inch from the iced cake is very telling, but what do I know? Or better still, hey, why not use that toothpicks to get that last bit of carrots out of your teeth once your through with the cake! Where is that bottle of wine?????
After icing the cake, the toothpicks firmly in place, I stand back to see how this episode will unfold. Not good! Toothpicks now make the cake look like a melting sputnik... “Could it get any worse?", you ask yourself!
I now take OUT the toothpicks and stand back to assess the damage. Hmmmmm...after allowing the cake to "rest" on the decorative and colorful plate that I had selected as part of her gift, the cake now looks like a lava cake...not good!
Thankfully, my honey has passed through the kitchen disaster area and is now ready to make another assessment by saying, "Why not put sprinkles on it. No one will notice." Doubting that even a novice baker would miss the growing craters forming in the cake, I retrieve "Spring Design" sprinkles from the pantry. I "generously" sprinkle the cake with tiny multi-color butterfly sprinkles...
Hmmmm...now the cake looks like it has been attacked by psychedelic gnats and has imploded from the weight of the swarm! Not pretty!!!
Not to be without a good idea nor does he seem to fear the deranged woman standing at the kitchen counter armed with a spoon and a spreader, my honey again makes another pass through the kitchen epicenter and adds this comment, "Who knew that cream cheese frosting could double as glue?" After that he left the kitchen...
The imploded psychedelic gnat covered cake is now covered with a Tupperware lid. You remember those from the olden days - those puppies could take a nuclear blast? Determination as to the fate of the cake is yet to be determined. However, my honey has offered to eat the evidence and buy her a store bought cake. Now that is plan I can work with...
The timer chimed and I checked the cake. Perfect! Cake was ready to come out of the oven and to be turned onto the cooling rack. I was in the process of doing just that when the cooling rack caught on my blouse. I was literally hung between the cake pan, the cooling rack and the cabinet.
Calling for help over my shoulder to my honey to no avail as he is watching television. The struggle between me, the cooling rack and the steaming cake pan is growing with great intensity with every passing minute. In a final yelp for help, my honey finally hears me...only...it was too late. As we watch in horror (kind of like watching a train wreck), the cake slides seamlessly out of the pan but breaks apart (in multiple pieces) onto the cabinet. Does "never mind" come to mind? I'm just asking...
My honey, now on point, has made an assessment of the situation and suggests that we put toothpicks in the cake to hold it together. After all, once it is iced, who would know...I'm thinking toothpicks sticking out an inch from the iced cake is very telling, but what do I know? Or better still, hey, why not use that toothpicks to get that last bit of carrots out of your teeth once your through with the cake! Where is that bottle of wine?????
After icing the cake, the toothpicks firmly in place, I stand back to see how this episode will unfold. Not good! Toothpicks now make the cake look like a melting sputnik... “Could it get any worse?", you ask yourself!
I now take OUT the toothpicks and stand back to assess the damage. Hmmmmm...after allowing the cake to "rest" on the decorative and colorful plate that I had selected as part of her gift, the cake now looks like a lava cake...not good!
Thankfully, my honey has passed through the kitchen disaster area and is now ready to make another assessment by saying, "Why not put sprinkles on it. No one will notice." Doubting that even a novice baker would miss the growing craters forming in the cake, I retrieve "Spring Design" sprinkles from the pantry. I "generously" sprinkle the cake with tiny multi-color butterfly sprinkles...
Hmmmm...now the cake looks like it has been attacked by psychedelic gnats and has imploded from the weight of the swarm! Not pretty!!!
Not to be without a good idea nor does he seem to fear the deranged woman standing at the kitchen counter armed with a spoon and a spreader, my honey again makes another pass through the kitchen epicenter and adds this comment, "Who knew that cream cheese frosting could double as glue?" After that he left the kitchen...
The imploded psychedelic gnat covered cake is now covered with a Tupperware lid. You remember those from the olden days - those puppies could take a nuclear blast? Determination as to the fate of the cake is yet to be determined. However, my honey has offered to eat the evidence and buy her a store bought cake. Now that is plan I can work with...
Friday, April 16, 2010
Hair Coloring At Home is NOT for Sissies!!!
Again, another money saving opportunity is questionable! I don’t know about you, but my grey hair is gaining on me. It seems that the roots have been touched up and before I am out the door, they are growing out again!! One would think that the salons use Miracle Grow my hair to make it grown faster so I can return sooner.
So, I began the quest of taking on my OWN hair coloring. Some of you may be very good at this, but let me tell you this job is NOT for sissies!
To reaffirm my stance that one needs the right tools for the right job (please see below for blog on that subject) the truth could never be…well…more true!
In an effort to saving $$ by coloring my own hair at home, Steve and I purchased a “boxed” hair color. It looked good. The girl on the box looked great and man, her hair!!!
I remember vaguely Steve inquiring about the color and if the color was correct and I vaguely remember assuring him that it was indeed correct. He went so far as to ask me if I had the correct number. Being more confident that I should have, I assured him that yes that was indeed the right color.
If ever there were more proof that Murphy’s Law coincides with the importance of an event, let me just tell you that it does! Steve serves on a board of directors for a non-profit organization. Last night was the “gala” (in other words – high dollar and no, your flip flops won’t be working for you that night) event.
The question begged itself, “Why not color it this afternoon so that it will be fresh and at least come close to the girl on the box?” So, with no anticipation at all in my heart, I grabbed the box and headed into our bath area to commence the ordeal.
Again, one would think that the color coming out of the bottle would be the color of what your hair will resemble. ..Oh, not so, my little pretty! Thinking that it might be a good idea to “do” my eyebrows as well, fails me now, but at the time, it did seem like a good idea!
Momentarily the color began to appear in my hair. I had not looked in the mirror but had moved on to more important work while the color was correctly timed to perfection. Once the timer went off, I breezed by Steve’s office to let him know that I was almost ready to go.
There are looks on one’s face that allows the other person to sense many emotions: danger, fear, humor and quite possibly confusion. You might be thinking to yourself that one could not possibly express all these emotions at one time, but by some miracle, my husband did. Oh, and I forgot to mention he said, “Honey, you kind of look like Groucho Marx!”
Feeling a severe sense of foreboding, I quickly go to our bathroom mirror and look. Oh, my Lord! I did look like Groucho Marx!!!! Steve followed me in to the bathroom and asked, “That is coming off your face, right? “ Face, what do you mean it’s on my face??? Oh Lord, it’s on my face!
Shampoo has no fury like a woman who has applied the wrong hair color. After washing it in the kitchen sink, I quickly wrapped my head in a towel and went back into the bathroom where the lighting was better. Steve waiting there (safe move on his part) stood patiently while I unwrapped the towel.
All of a sudden he began to speak Spanish to me. I look into the mirror and this fair skinned, freckled child of God looked like Maria Gonzales or a very old Cher with short hair).
Well, what is a girl to do but “go on to the show!” I dried my hair, rolled it and applied make up. Steve was awesome and I fretted over what to wear that would make me look to gothic!!! We settled on an outfit and I sprayed the disaster and out the door we went.
There were many heads that turned as we entered the room. I would like to think that it was the beautiful silver heart filled with rhinestones hanging from my neck that caught the attention, but somehow I’m not so sure.
After the evening finally ended, Steve brought me a glass of wine as I sat at my computer submitting a business transaction.
Let us just say, this man of mine is the love of my life. Not once did he make me feel (after the Spanish speaking thing) out of the ordinary. You would have thought he had escorted the most famous movie star ever! He held my hand and introduced me to all his friends on the board.
I’m thinking two things: First, I am keeping this man of mine! He is such an incredible man of God and I couldn’t love any man more (than Jesus). And two, hair coloring at home is not for sissies!!! I’m thinking that maybe it is worth the $$$.
So, I began the quest of taking on my OWN hair coloring. Some of you may be very good at this, but let me tell you this job is NOT for sissies!
To reaffirm my stance that one needs the right tools for the right job (please see below for blog on that subject) the truth could never be…well…more true!
In an effort to saving $$ by coloring my own hair at home, Steve and I purchased a “boxed” hair color. It looked good. The girl on the box looked great and man, her hair!!!
I remember vaguely Steve inquiring about the color and if the color was correct and I vaguely remember assuring him that it was indeed correct. He went so far as to ask me if I had the correct number. Being more confident that I should have, I assured him that yes that was indeed the right color.
If ever there were more proof that Murphy’s Law coincides with the importance of an event, let me just tell you that it does! Steve serves on a board of directors for a non-profit organization. Last night was the “gala” (in other words – high dollar and no, your flip flops won’t be working for you that night) event.
The question begged itself, “Why not color it this afternoon so that it will be fresh and at least come close to the girl on the box?” So, with no anticipation at all in my heart, I grabbed the box and headed into our bath area to commence the ordeal.
Again, one would think that the color coming out of the bottle would be the color of what your hair will resemble. ..Oh, not so, my little pretty! Thinking that it might be a good idea to “do” my eyebrows as well, fails me now, but at the time, it did seem like a good idea!
Momentarily the color began to appear in my hair. I had not looked in the mirror but had moved on to more important work while the color was correctly timed to perfection. Once the timer went off, I breezed by Steve’s office to let him know that I was almost ready to go.
There are looks on one’s face that allows the other person to sense many emotions: danger, fear, humor and quite possibly confusion. You might be thinking to yourself that one could not possibly express all these emotions at one time, but by some miracle, my husband did. Oh, and I forgot to mention he said, “Honey, you kind of look like Groucho Marx!”
Feeling a severe sense of foreboding, I quickly go to our bathroom mirror and look. Oh, my Lord! I did look like Groucho Marx!!!! Steve followed me in to the bathroom and asked, “That is coming off your face, right? “ Face, what do you mean it’s on my face??? Oh Lord, it’s on my face!
Shampoo has no fury like a woman who has applied the wrong hair color. After washing it in the kitchen sink, I quickly wrapped my head in a towel and went back into the bathroom where the lighting was better. Steve waiting there (safe move on his part) stood patiently while I unwrapped the towel.
All of a sudden he began to speak Spanish to me. I look into the mirror and this fair skinned, freckled child of God looked like Maria Gonzales or a very old Cher with short hair).
Well, what is a girl to do but “go on to the show!” I dried my hair, rolled it and applied make up. Steve was awesome and I fretted over what to wear that would make me look to gothic!!! We settled on an outfit and I sprayed the disaster and out the door we went.
There were many heads that turned as we entered the room. I would like to think that it was the beautiful silver heart filled with rhinestones hanging from my neck that caught the attention, but somehow I’m not so sure.
After the evening finally ended, Steve brought me a glass of wine as I sat at my computer submitting a business transaction.
Let us just say, this man of mine is the love of my life. Not once did he make me feel (after the Spanish speaking thing) out of the ordinary. You would have thought he had escorted the most famous movie star ever! He held my hand and introduced me to all his friends on the board.
I’m thinking two things: First, I am keeping this man of mine! He is such an incredible man of God and I couldn’t love any man more (than Jesus). And two, hair coloring at home is not for sissies!!! I’m thinking that maybe it is worth the $$$.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Important Tip! - The Right Tool for the Job
Have you ever thought something was a good idea only to find that it wasn’t? Such was the case for my impromptu ice breaker.
Since I have my own home-based business now, I am constantly trying to think of innovative ways to save money. One such brilliant idea came out of sheer necessity! You see there is nothing like a Sonic Cherry Coke… and, more importantly…nothing better than Sonic ice.
So, in order to save $$$ for the past few months, I have purchased the ice by the bag at Sonic. This is truly an economical tip, by the way! However!!!! When in the freezer, the bag of ice tends to bunch up and harden. It merely needs a gentle tap to break the cubes apart and they fall wonderfully am effortlessly into your waiting cup right before your eager eyes.
Yesterday I came home from a doctor’s appointment with some not so great news. I needed a pick-me up. Satan was really playing some mind games with me and I kept telling him that I was not about to play with him. What I really needed was a Cherry Coke with Sonic ice to tip the scales on my mental game and get me sharp and at attention!
The plan to get sharp was a good one! I grabbed my cup and headed to the freezer in our garage to retrieve the medicinal ice. My spirit was high and my plan in place! All was going great until my impromptu ice breaker broke! I mean it literally broke in half and what appeared as sawdust flew everywhere!!! It was in my hair, in the door of the freezer, on my face and clothes. Miraculously, it missed my cup!!!
Putting my ice breaker on Steve’s workbench (where it originally was discovered), I quickly grabbed a microfiber towel (Tim the tool-man lives at my house!) and quickly cleaned “what appeared to be sawdust” off the freezer and me. What a mess!!! A little stressed because the ice was waiting for the rest of the ingredients, my plan for alertness was somewhat stalled. Not completely without a workable plan, I found one of his hammers. That would make the job quick, easy and in short order.
After filling my cup with the delicious ice and retrieving a cold Cherry Coke from the refrigerator, I put the cup filled with my mental repairing nectar down to check the damage suffered to Steve's stick - my ice breaker. It was very old and weathered and it has a really old label on it. Funny, I had never noticed that before.
As I read the label my heart stopped! Then, I began to laugh out loud! Seriously, I laughed until I cried because I knew at that moment that God surely had a super-duper guardian angel covering me and keeping me safe. Why should I worry about the silly thing satan was trying to convince me buy into when it was obvious that God was in the house and on the job! The label on my impromptu ice breaker read, “Highway Flare!” Who knew????
I called Steve at the church and, as best I could say calmly to keep him from total worry and shock, I simply and calmly explained what happened and oh by the way, this is what it was…is that okay..I mean…can I just leave the stick in the garage with this powder all over the bench…or do I need to put in the yard…what do you think I should do?? After a moment of silence Steve told me to just leave it there and he would handle it after we got home from church.
Maybe that explains the Mucho Grande margarita he had for dinner….
I’ve asked for an ice pick for Mother’s Day.
Since I have my own home-based business now, I am constantly trying to think of innovative ways to save money. One such brilliant idea came out of sheer necessity! You see there is nothing like a Sonic Cherry Coke… and, more importantly…nothing better than Sonic ice.
So, in order to save $$$ for the past few months, I have purchased the ice by the bag at Sonic. This is truly an economical tip, by the way! However!!!! When in the freezer, the bag of ice tends to bunch up and harden. It merely needs a gentle tap to break the cubes apart and they fall wonderfully am effortlessly into your waiting cup right before your eager eyes.
Yesterday I came home from a doctor’s appointment with some not so great news. I needed a pick-me up. Satan was really playing some mind games with me and I kept telling him that I was not about to play with him. What I really needed was a Cherry Coke with Sonic ice to tip the scales on my mental game and get me sharp and at attention!
The plan to get sharp was a good one! I grabbed my cup and headed to the freezer in our garage to retrieve the medicinal ice. My spirit was high and my plan in place! All was going great until my impromptu ice breaker broke! I mean it literally broke in half and what appeared as sawdust flew everywhere!!! It was in my hair, in the door of the freezer, on my face and clothes. Miraculously, it missed my cup!!!
Putting my ice breaker on Steve’s workbench (where it originally was discovered), I quickly grabbed a microfiber towel (Tim the tool-man lives at my house!) and quickly cleaned “what appeared to be sawdust” off the freezer and me. What a mess!!! A little stressed because the ice was waiting for the rest of the ingredients, my plan for alertness was somewhat stalled. Not completely without a workable plan, I found one of his hammers. That would make the job quick, easy and in short order.
After filling my cup with the delicious ice and retrieving a cold Cherry Coke from the refrigerator, I put the cup filled with my mental repairing nectar down to check the damage suffered to Steve's stick - my ice breaker. It was very old and weathered and it has a really old label on it. Funny, I had never noticed that before.
As I read the label my heart stopped! Then, I began to laugh out loud! Seriously, I laughed until I cried because I knew at that moment that God surely had a super-duper guardian angel covering me and keeping me safe. Why should I worry about the silly thing satan was trying to convince me buy into when it was obvious that God was in the house and on the job! The label on my impromptu ice breaker read, “Highway Flare!” Who knew????
I called Steve at the church and, as best I could say calmly to keep him from total worry and shock, I simply and calmly explained what happened and oh by the way, this is what it was…is that okay..I mean…can I just leave the stick in the garage with this powder all over the bench…or do I need to put in the yard…what do you think I should do?? After a moment of silence Steve told me to just leave it there and he would handle it after we got home from church.
Maybe that explains the Mucho Grande margarita he had for dinner….
I’ve asked for an ice pick for Mother’s Day.
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