a few words about Christmas...

I've been thinking about traditions lately...remembering old ones and attempting to create new ones.  Do you adhere to the traditions of your youth?  We didn't have a lot when I was growing up, but one of the fun things I remember about Christmas morning were our stockings.  There was always an orange in it, and usually some sort of candy.  The oranges were such a treat because we did not have them the rest of the year.  I think I remember socks or underwear too, though that memory isn't as strong as the oranges! 

Another tradition that I goes as far back as I can remember was the exchanging of "goodie plates".  My mom was a busy farm wife, but at Christmas time, goodies were made and plates were exchanged with the neighbors.  This is the first year I did not follow through with this one...though that will be remedied next year!  One of my favorite family traditions are the Springerle cookies.  These cookies are something you either like or you don't as they contain anise (which tastes like black licorice).  The dough is rolled out with a patterned rolling pin that creates little squares with designs embossed on them.  The squares are cut and left to dry for a day or so...then baked into yummy little pillow cookies that I look forward to even today.  On of the items on my "do it soon" list is to actually participate in the baking of these cookies with my mom, because sadly, I never have!

When my kids were small, I loved shopping for little gifts to go into their stockings.  I kept up with the oranges for a time...don't know why that stopped.  One tradition that I started when they were small was lifesaver candy books.  That one has continued.  It just doesn't seem right to not buy them each year.  I also have tried to start a new tradition of baking cookies with my grands.  It is so fun to just let them make a mess...nothing makes me smile bigger than watching them dump a whole jar of sprinkles on one cookie (usually the one they are going to eat).  In fact, I don't step in to help with sprinkles until they have done their "eating" cookies...sprinkles are the most important part to them. 

I love Christmas!  With such a busy schedule that past few years, the preparation and decorating have taken a back seat, and I can't wait to remedy that.  The increasing controversy that surrounds the season just makes my heart hurt.  Personally, I don't care if Jesus was born on a hot July night in the middle of a freeway...so that whole argument about December 25th not being the actual day of His birth is irrelevant to me.  I think we choose the strangest things to get hung up on to justify our beliefs (or lack of).

What I really want to say is...create traditions with your kids and keep them.  Give them fond memories to look back on from their childhood.  Give them oranges in their stockings :) 

On a scale of 0 to 10...

...with 10 being stepping on a Lego barefoot, how are you feeling?


I was reminded again last night how long it had been since I had actually posted a blog entry.  I have  started several, and this morning the last of the drafts was deleted.  I have mentioned before that it is hardest for me to write when I have too much to say.  That is how it has been for a long time...too much for one post, not sure how to divide it all up.  Life is a whirlwind of much.  So here, now, on the 18th day of January, I am making a revolution (not a typo) to get this one done and posted...no matter how it ends up.


What does that have to do with stepping barefooted on Lego's?  One of the tools I have learned in nursing school that I seem to be applying to many aspects of my life is the pain scale.  We have been taught to ask this of our patients, even children are asked to look at a visual chart to pick out the "pain face" that they most feel like.  You have to nail it down so it can be charted.  This is easier to do when you have an actual physical injury...and oh so much harder to do when it is your heart or spirit that feels broken.


In the group of people that I consider friends, there are so many of them hurting right now I sometimes feel complete despair with my lack of ability to "fix them".  I know of 4 broken marriages in one state or another of disarray.  Parents struggling with painful things with adult children, and parents struggling to find the best way to raise young ones.  Friends with cancer, and friends with parents with cancer.  Friends grieving loss.  Friends that feel betrayed by those they thought would never betray them...friends that are lonely to the point of despair.  So much pain...barefoot Lego pain.


I find myself stepping in and out of questioning my faith.  Not my absolute belief in God...not that at all.  But a fist pounding, foot stomping, taking too long to speak up when others say "where is God in all of this" kind of questioning.  I wish I could say I hadn't been here before, but then again, I'm o.k. with saying I've been here before.  I think it is in the questioning and then the absolute knowing that my faith is strengthened.  I've been the one crying out for a broken marriage to be made whole again.  I'm the sister to an adult child out of control, the one grieving loss and the one betrayed...friendships gone.  Forgiveness asked for and not received.  I know the kind of pain that would say walking away from faith in a God that allows such things to continue would be the right thing to do.  But giving up on that kind of love isn't something I want to comprehend the ability to do.


There was a time in my walk that I was one that would say "when I get to heaven, I have some questions to ask God!".  I grew past that to an all encompassing faith that knows that when I get to heaven, there will be no more questions.  The feeling of loss and betrayal...the pain of broken will be gone and I will only care about falling on my face and being overwhelmed with the kind of love I could only imagine before being in Its' presence.  Where I will sing at the top of my voice for eternity and not worry about being off key or overheard.  Where I will see face to face what unconditional truly means.  That is why I will not walk away.


This realization, of course, changes nothing in reality.  Except me.  I'm still on the same walk, wanting to be able to fix what is broken with my love or my words.  I will still fall quite short in many of the lives I wish I could touch.  But I will not walk away.  I have also found it healthier for me not to chase that which will.  But I know that I will grieve the loss of those and continue to wonder if maybe I should try one more time?  I've been told that I see things differently than most people.  I've also been told that I over think.  So...it is possible that those two things go hand in hand.  I try so hard to not apologize for that anymore, and try equally as hard to embrace it.  Jesus asks me to come to him with the faith as that of a child.  Children question and get mad...but at the end of it, they run at you for a hug and a messy kiss.  That may be too simple a love for some to understand, but that encompasses my faith...packages it up neatly and ties it with a pretty bow.  My Father knows what is best for me in order to grow me into the kind of daughter that brings Him delight...and His is the only opinion I value completely at the end of the day.


As I started writing this post, I had no idea what it would be.  I only knew that it was time to write.  As I finish this up, I see clearly what it needed to be.  So mostly, I guess this ones for me :)  I am a selfish girl...


**Todd Agnew...if you read this, I think you need to rewrite the Grace Like Rain song.  The chorus should say "grace like rain pours down on me".  Fall down sounds accidental, and I can only see grace as an intentional pouring.  yes, yes I really do think a lot about all things....

the man I called Daddy

I got a phone call on a recent early morning letting me know that my Daddy had gone to heaven.  I actually missed the call...but when you see your brother called twice before 4:00 a.m., you call back.

My Dad had been sick for quite some time...years actually.  He was a Type II diabetic, and then many more complications added on.  They took his left leg many years ago.  I don't remember how many exactly, but I know where I was living and I remember the plane ride home to be with him & my mom.  I remember the look on his face and the fear before he went into surgery.  I remember him holding my hand, looking me in the eyes and asking me to pray for him.  It's one of those memories that hovers at a time like this. 

We've been put on notice a minimum of 4 times...not knowing if he would make it through the night or day or the next hour.  But he always did.  He always bounced back.  But I knew this call was different.  When I talked to him a couple of weeks ago, I heard in his voice that he was done.  I wasn't really ready to face it, but I was resigned to the news.

In talking to my Mom later, she told me about the last day they had together...and it made my heart smile for a moment.  It had been obvious over the past couple of weeks that he was slipping, but just putting together how it all played out...perfect.  My parents 61st wedding anniversary was last month...it wasn't a "good" day, but they were together.  Longtime friends came to visit and my nephew got married that past weekend...so good that they were able to do that without the shadow of this overhead.  And his last day...he was able to go for a wheel outside in his chair, watch a baseball game on television and eat the gluten free pizza my Mom made him for dinner.  It was a good day :)  God's timing is perfect in all things.

In the past several days, as I have thought and talked through this, I am thankful for the man my Dad grew into.  I didn't have that storybook childhood, but I wouldn't trade it for who the heart of my Dad became in his later years.  He gave his heart to Jesus in 2004 and was baptized...and it changed him.  He could still be that surly, grumpy guy...but the middle of him that had always been marshmallowy?  Well it was more like the center of a perfectly roasted marshmallow now.  When you were persistent to get down to it...it was warm & melty.

My dad was from an era where father's didn't do a lot of hugging and saying "I love you".  At least not with those actions or words.  My dad hugged me with actions like rescuing me from a cow at the fair that decided it would pummel me into the manger when I took it hay.  He shouted out his love when I was in the show ring with the words "get your hands off that cow!".  In my defense, my cow (Susie Q) loved to be scratched on the side of the face when the judge wasn't looking.  But my dad was always looking!  He had been showing cows a great portion of his life.  There was a right way and a wrong way.  The wrong way was rattling the chain & scratching the side of the face of the cow you were showing...but I didn't fare too badly in the show ring anyway!  And Susie Q...well she didn't mind being shown most of the time.  She would urp up a cud and play along.  Dad wasn't always impressed.  He would move around the ring (on the outside of the fence) with me.  I can still see him standing with his feet apart, arms crossed with one hand to the side of his face.  The sentinel.  At the time...I wanted to shout back "she likes it!".  Now...the memory makes me smile.

Later, when I was married and living away, my phone would ring.  I would answer and hear "got a joke for ya".  It always made me smile, because sometimes they were really stupid jokes.  Sometimes he would get them out of order and botch the delivery.  But I always laughed, and it made me happy because I knew he was telling me he loved me.  As soon as he was done with the joke, he would say "here's your mother"...short, sweet and to the point.

And over the past few years, the moment that always made me smile and made tears clog my throat, were the prayers he said at every meal.  It always included "watch over the little ones"...full to the top with "I love you".  He had a fierce love for his grandchildren and great grandchildren.  Nearly every time I talked with him on the phone, one of his first questions was "how are the babies?".  Then I would relate little stories for him.  Each phone conversation was shorter...each moment when he would say "here's your mother" would come quicker.  Each would leave me wanting to say more...but I always tried to leave him with "I love you, Daddy".

This week the family will gather to say good bye to the earthly remains of my Dad.  But the memories will always be in my heart.  I will always know he is watching out for me.  I will always remember the last visit home, playing poker & eating popcorn and reading him the paper.  Whenever I have pancakes I will wonder if I should try them the way he liked them, with milk & sugar, just once.  Maybe the sogginess will be worth it?  I will remember the good times, and let the memories of the pain he lived in fade.  I'll remember the twinkle in his eyes and his impish grin.  Always...I will remember...

Milo Burton McCright  1/16/32 - 9/5/13

coexist?

I read something this morning that talked about four important boxes, one of them being the soapbox.  That's probably how this post should be categorized...you have been warned.  Click away right now.  Politics & religion may be involved. 

It hardly seems right that I haven't put a post up since March, and I am here now with this one.  Seriously, the reason I haven't written isn't because I don't have anything to say.  It's because I have too much!!  I have started more posts than I can recall...some I delete knowing no one will "get it", and some still languish about in that "written but unposted" region.  Which means they will probably be deleted too.

Have you seen the bumper sticker that says "coexist"?  I was planning to put a picture of it up on here just in case you haven't...but it tweaks me enough that I can't do it.  Google it if you have no idea what I'm talking about.  Every time I see one, which is quite often in the town I live in, it irritates me.  Is that really the best you are shooting for??  And is that really what you want?  Because I really don't believe that it is, or you just would.

I make no secret of the fact that I am a believer in Christ.  I also make no secret of the fact that I don't think that makes me better than anyone else.  I screw up all the time, and I freely admit it.  I don't want any special privileges because of it.  I don't want to be treated differently either.  But I am...all the time.  I get the eye rolls, catch the "look" between people...one to warn the other to "be careful".  I appreciate it when people temper their language around me, but I don't ask them to.  Well...except for using God's name as slang or as a swear word...that one makes my stomach hurt.  Physically.  It's like someone cursing your favorite Grandma (the one that bakes those special cookies you like) times a million.  Why do we do that? 

                                                             anyway..........


I don't understand why groups fight for preferential treatment because they are "different".  If you are gay, be gay.  If you are black/brown/green/purple...be it.  If you are a liberal democrat (I'm sorry) or a right wing republican...be it!  If you are for an issue...support it.  If you are against an issue...support YOURS!  Don't tell me how stupid I am.  Give me the facts about why you support what you do.  I will listen, but that doesn't mean you should expect me to change my mind.  If you bring a darn good argument...you may sway me.  But if you start telling me that I need to stop being so narrow minded because I don't agree with you...well...you just lost me.

I want more than a world where we coexist.  I want a world where we love & respect each other, even if we have opposing views.  If you are involved in something that I believe is harmful to you, I hope I have the courage to tell you...and I hope you have the courage to listen with an open heart.  It's crazy to me that we have all these special groups for people who are shouting about being discriminated against.  I actually read a story recently about a guy who was handicapped making a living off of going around to businesses and testing their compliance with laws for people with disabilities...measuring how far the toilet paper roll was from the ground and the toilet & how high the sink was...stuff like that.  Then, if they were off (not that he couldn't reach them...just that they weren't quite right), he would sue.  And win.  He has all this time and the capability to get around in his wheelchair well enough to do this, but not work.  what the heck??

The atheist groups suing to have God taken out of every corner of the world really perplex me.  If you don't believe in God, why does the fact that I do bother you so much.  He's my "imaginary friend"...right.  Nothing to see here...move along.  Merry Christmas. 

I know there are people reading this that will think I am some right wing religious nut who doesn't have a clue what it's like "out there" for you in the real world.  I am guilty of being a republican who is a believer.  Don't tell me how hard your life is without understanding that mine hasn't always been a cake walk either.  If you want to know my story...let's talk.  I do that pretty well.  I'll tell you about the discriminated group I could start for single middle aged white women with no dependents at home to support that are working 2 jobs and going to college full time that need a vacation.  I do complain about it sometimes...but it doesn't define me.  It's who I am...I just live it.  Sometimes it is so hard that I just want to throw in the towel and call it a day (and if the entitled generation we are raising succeeds in getting the minimum wage jumped for entry level jobs...nah), but I won't.

We are entitled to nothing.  We are so busy drawing lines in the sand and watching for people to stick their toes over that we don't take time to look at the whole beach.  Watch the waves roll up. 

I miss the beach...the end.

banana applesauce bread

I had some banana's that needed to be transformed, so I went in search of a healthier banana bread recipe.  I found one that looked promising at cooks.com and dove in!  The recipe is simple, and I didn't tweak too much.  The flavor is good, and the bread is moist :)

Banana Applesauce Bread

3 ripe bananas/mashed (I used 3 really ripe ones & 1 sorta ripe one)
1 c. sugar (I used 1/2 brown sugar)
1/2 c. applesauce
2 eggs
1 tsp. baking soda
1 Tbsp. baking powder
1 tsp. salt
1 tsp. vanilla (I also added about 1/4 tsp almond extract)
2 c. flour
I also tossed in about 1/2 c. pecans because they have been sitting patiently waiting to be thrown into something since Christmas!

Place mashed bananas in mixer bowl with sugars & mix it well.  Let the mixture sit for 15 minutes so it gets nice & goopy.  Add applesauce & eggs and beat well.  Beat in baking soda, baking powder, salt & extracts.  Gradually add flour & mix thoroughly.  Bake in a greased (sprayed) 9x5 loaf pan @ 350 deg for 45 mins or until toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.  Let stand 10 mins in pan before removing.  Makes 1 loaf         (I only have 8.5x4.5 pans, and I baked for about 50 mins)

 

Since all the batter was too much for my smaller pan, I made 2 large muffins as well.  I ate one of those while it was warm and it was yummy!  This is moist enough you could sub wheat flour without making it too dry, which I will try next time I have both wheat flour and yucky bananas in the house at the same time!