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Showing posts from May, 2016

The Joy of Cooking or Something Like It
My middle Madelyn is my sous chef.  My assistant.  Whether I wish her to be, or not.  Most of the times I do wish, and sometimes in quick-get- something- to-the-table moments I wince a bit at the asking, "Mom? Can I help?!"
I determined as best I can to say, "Yes." with a smile, more than "No, I need to do this on my own."
It may be more messy and slower; however, kids told no about helping eventually lose desire.
My mom always let her daughters help in the kitchen.  In fact my favorite times with my mom and sister are cooking moments.  We may exchange some laughs and my sister's and mom's quick tempers may collide in the heat of rough chopping and stirring, but at the end it will be doused out by some hugs and some "This is silly girls!" from my dad. (As he fast exists the kitchen permeated now with six females)
I always wanted to cook because my mom let us cook growing up. A tornado of flour left its trail on co…


Sometime last year I remember reading a list.  A handful of ways to improve or increase personal happiness.  What is most likely to increase happiness?  Among the ability to make personal autonomous choices and the necessity of human touch was this: the looking for something to be thankful for.
I wish I could remember the article and all of the points.  I can't.  But I specifically remember that the listing of what led to happiness made a distinction between having to find something to be thankful for and the looking of something to be thankful for.  The actual finding wasn't as important as the looking.  It was the act of looking that brought the happiness, not the findings.
This speaks of expectancy to me.
What do you expect?
To find the good or find the bad?
King David was familiar with bad news.  He crested on high moments of battle victory, divine intervention, God's rich favor, passionate moments of praise and yet his li…


#Five Minute Fridays

One Word, Five Minutes

We all have reasons we end up missing things.
Times past we ache for.
Smells, tastes, sounds associated with lovely people and hallowed memories.
Other times we end up missing because we missed the moments.
We had the moments, but we didn't catch them, hold them close, and know them for what they really were.  That kind of missing is one of nostalgic regret.  We know we could have had them but they slipped out of our hands, unnoticed because something else had our attention.
There are myriads of culprits for all of our moment missing and lost living.
We all have our own thieves.
Mine are usually a band of three.  Fear, Anxiety, and Worry.  These three come together.  They twist taut thread forming a noose that chokes out life.  They seek to do as Corrie Ten Boom says of Worry, "They empty today of it's strength."
I remember the years these three showed up and took residence withi…