"Can you make those oatmeal cookies now?" my husband asked. Earlier, he had been perusing the cookie aisle in the grocery store, and seeing his indecisiveness, I offered to make some cookies. We had just put a round box of oats in the basket, and I knew I had butter, vanilla, and other ingredients at home.
But after the Christmas-spirit high of shopping in other stores that afternoon and fixing a hasty supper that evening, my spirits were sagging. Baking didn't sound very appealing. Then the thought occurred to me that instead of plain old oatmeal cookies, I would try my hand at Oatmeal Lace! I remembered eating the crispy, buttery cookie a long time ago but had been unable to find the recipe. Now I could look it up on internet!
Wow! Three sticks of butter? That was all I had! Well, there was a stick of margarine I could swap out for one of the butter sticks. Mistake! The margarine must have made the batter too thin, because when I dropped the mixture onto the cookie sheet, even though the dollops were inches apart, they spread over the whole pan! I was more careful on the second sheet, and although they came out too large, they were still separate cookies.
I was supposed to bake the cookies on a parchment-lined pan. I didn't have parchment, but I figured with all the butter, they would be easy to remove with my spatula. Wrong! I managed to scrape most of them off, some even in a shape resembling a cookie, but most were carmelized onto the cookie sheet. I scraped what cookies I couldn't save intact into a mound of crunchy, brown oat flakes. (Maybe they'd be good as cereal?) Spread out on a silver tray, the lacy, golden cookies I had salvaged looked almost presentable.
Later, I took a cookie to have with a glass of milk and sat down to enjoy it when I heard a crash. The tray had slid off the baker's rack where I had absent-mindedly shoved it. The Oatmeal Lace shattered like crystal all over the floor in a million pieces! Howard helped me sweep it up, and it wound up in the trash can.
You'd think by now I'd know to follow the recipe! But just as in so many things in life and like so many other people, I had decided to do my own thing. No big deal when it comes to cookies, but there is a parallel with rules and instructions given in the Bible for living a holy (and wholesome!) life that, if violated, can cause a mess and even leave lives shattered in many cases. Only God can pick up the pieces and restore wholeness to the repentant. Thankfully, He gives us that chance!
Monday, December 16, 2013
Friday, December 13, 2013
No Laughing Gas Matter
A few weeks ago, I began feeling an unwelcome twinge in one of my teeth. As it grew a little more frequent and a little more intense, I narrowed it down to a lower molar covered by a crown from a root canal that I got more than 20 years ago. Could it be hurting? Then it occurred to me that we will be flying next week, and if something were wrong with my tooth, I'd better check it out.
But first, I looked it up on the internet and found all kinds of terrifying scenarios: teeth exploding in mid-air, people hospitalized with blood poisoning ("If there is a crown on it, the infection has nowhere to go, so it can go to your brain," etc., etc. I read that airlines will not even let you on if you have an abscessed tooth. I couldn't sleep that night for worrying, besides having mild discomfort.
A visit to the dentist became paramount in my mind. Not having a dentist here, I got the name of our son's family's dentist and called first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, they had no openings and couldn't work me in, despite my insistence. "We have one emergency slot and that has been filled," I was informed. The receptionist did recommend the only one she knew of who took walk-ins, though.
"I'm sorry, but because of Christmas we are closed the last two weeks of December and have re-scheduled all our patients into the first two weeks, so we have no openings at all," I was told. "If someone cancels, we'll call you." They even suggested that I might go to an Urgent Care clinic and get an antibiotic. That would entail paying for an office visit, so I tried one more dental office. They got me in that afternoon.
"That is not your crown, the roots on the root canal look fine," the dentist said after viewing my x-ray. "Ouch!" I winced as he probed further. "That is your wisdom tooth!" he exclaimed. It looked fine to me on the x-ray, the huge filling practically dwarfing the tooth. "You have a cavity in the back which you can't see, and biting down on this tooth is cracking it. It really should come out," he advised.
Well, it is never good news to lose a tooth, but in this case, it seemed the lesser of two evils, and I was elated. My crown was intact! He put me on antibiotics which should clear up any infection, so I was cleared to fly. We had been so looking forward to this Christmas trip to our daughter and family in Georgia!
I was so relieved! I had prayed, fretted, and imagined all sorts of obstacles, but the dental staff was very kind and reassuring, and now that I'd put my problems in the hands of a professional, I could relax. I don't even mind going back in January for the extraction. I think the Lord had a hand in it all along, using circumstances to prompt me to get help before anything worse happened. And if we put our lives in His hands, we won't lose our heavenly crown, either!
ternoon.
me in
But first, I looked it up on the internet and found all kinds of terrifying scenarios: teeth exploding in mid-air, people hospitalized with blood poisoning ("If there is a crown on it, the infection has nowhere to go, so it can go to your brain," etc., etc. I read that airlines will not even let you on if you have an abscessed tooth. I couldn't sleep that night for worrying, besides having mild discomfort.
A visit to the dentist became paramount in my mind. Not having a dentist here, I got the name of our son's family's dentist and called first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, they had no openings and couldn't work me in, despite my insistence. "We have one emergency slot and that has been filled," I was informed. The receptionist did recommend the only one she knew of who took walk-ins, though.
"I'm sorry, but because of Christmas we are closed the last two weeks of December and have re-scheduled all our patients into the first two weeks, so we have no openings at all," I was told. "If someone cancels, we'll call you." They even suggested that I might go to an Urgent Care clinic and get an antibiotic. That would entail paying for an office visit, so I tried one more dental office. They got me in that afternoon.
"That is not your crown, the roots on the root canal look fine," the dentist said after viewing my x-ray. "Ouch!" I winced as he probed further. "That is your wisdom tooth!" he exclaimed. It looked fine to me on the x-ray, the huge filling practically dwarfing the tooth. "You have a cavity in the back which you can't see, and biting down on this tooth is cracking it. It really should come out," he advised.
Well, it is never good news to lose a tooth, but in this case, it seemed the lesser of two evils, and I was elated. My crown was intact! He put me on antibiotics which should clear up any infection, so I was cleared to fly. We had been so looking forward to this Christmas trip to our daughter and family in Georgia!
I was so relieved! I had prayed, fretted, and imagined all sorts of obstacles, but the dental staff was very kind and reassuring, and now that I'd put my problems in the hands of a professional, I could relax. I don't even mind going back in January for the extraction. I think the Lord had a hand in it all along, using circumstances to prompt me to get help before anything worse happened. And if we put our lives in His hands, we won't lose our heavenly crown, either!
ternoon.
me in
Unwrapped!
Nothing is more frustrating for me than dealing with tape in wrapping or mailing presents! Take yesterday! I located the tape in a drawer and attempted to attach it to a package. The tape was stuck in a thin strip where it had ripped, and no amount of unwinding made it revert to the original width. Throwing it aside, I decided to look further.
Another roll of tape looked promising, but I could not find the end, since it was "invisible" tape and stuck fast. Despite running my finger over the smooth surface of the roll repeatedly, I could not discern where the tape began. What I needed was the desk tape dispenser I had misplaced.
I found it in the kitchen where I had set it in clearing off my former wrapping station, the dining room table. Carrying the dispenser to the bedroom where I was working, I put it on the bed beside the gifts and Christmas paper. When that tape failed to make a good hold, I remembered why I had stopped using it before.
But all that was nothing compared to sealing a mailing box. The trick was to try pull plastic tape from the dispenser, cut it, and have it not reseal itself before I could grab it. The complicated cutting system had to be backward and upside down, I decided, cutting myself on the sharp edge and getting the tape stuck in a hole presumably made to hold the end. Worse yet was keeping the tape straight as I stretched it across the box. It invariably wrinkled, then left a little tab dangling when I sealed the corners. What a relief when I finally finished! No wonder people use gift-wrapping services and mailing centers!
I love giving gifts. Every imperfect, lopsided package is a labor of love. I think about the first Christmas, when Mary wrapped the first Christmas Gift in her labor of love. The Gift was from God, given through Mary, who wrapped Him in swaddling clothes with love and tenderness in apparently primitive circumstances and surrounded by lowly animals.
I heard a man on television last night who shed light on these circumstances. He said that the sheep the shepherds were tending in the fields nearby were sacrificial lambs, being raised in utmost care for their special purpose, intimating that the little lambs in the stable that night were not filthy, unkempt creatures, but clean, unblemished animals.
Luke 2:12, explains, "And this will be a sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger." The Lamb of God! A sign the shepherds would understand, for they came and found Him. Would that more would understand and accept this Gift today!
Another roll of tape looked promising, but I could not find the end, since it was "invisible" tape and stuck fast. Despite running my finger over the smooth surface of the roll repeatedly, I could not discern where the tape began. What I needed was the desk tape dispenser I had misplaced.
I found it in the kitchen where I had set it in clearing off my former wrapping station, the dining room table. Carrying the dispenser to the bedroom where I was working, I put it on the bed beside the gifts and Christmas paper. When that tape failed to make a good hold, I remembered why I had stopped using it before.
But all that was nothing compared to sealing a mailing box. The trick was to try pull plastic tape from the dispenser, cut it, and have it not reseal itself before I could grab it. The complicated cutting system had to be backward and upside down, I decided, cutting myself on the sharp edge and getting the tape stuck in a hole presumably made to hold the end. Worse yet was keeping the tape straight as I stretched it across the box. It invariably wrinkled, then left a little tab dangling when I sealed the corners. What a relief when I finally finished! No wonder people use gift-wrapping services and mailing centers!
I love giving gifts. Every imperfect, lopsided package is a labor of love. I think about the first Christmas, when Mary wrapped the first Christmas Gift in her labor of love. The Gift was from God, given through Mary, who wrapped Him in swaddling clothes with love and tenderness in apparently primitive circumstances and surrounded by lowly animals.
I heard a man on television last night who shed light on these circumstances. He said that the sheep the shepherds were tending in the fields nearby were sacrificial lambs, being raised in utmost care for their special purpose, intimating that the little lambs in the stable that night were not filthy, unkempt creatures, but clean, unblemished animals.
Luke 2:12, explains, "And this will be a sign to you: You will find a Babe wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger." The Lamb of God! A sign the shepherds would understand, for they came and found Him. Would that more would understand and accept this Gift today!
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Car Trouble!
Something was wrong! The pulsating sound of car noise suddenly went silent at the stop light. "The car died!" I declared incredulously.
"No, it didn't!" my husband responded, but he turned the key just the same. The car tried to start, but failed. We were in the middle of the main street in town on a Tuesday afternoon. Thankfully, it wasn't time for the adjacent school to be out, or the traffic might have been worse. Only an occasional car passed us, seemingly taking no notice of our distress.
"Call Greg!" Howard instructed tersely. We were only one street over from our son's house, but when I reached him he was across town at a farm supply store. He promised he would be right there and drove up a few minutes later. (We live in a small town.)
Just then a man in a pickup truck stopped beside us and asked if we needed a jump. Howard waved him on, saying he was trying to reach roadside service. Suddenly a strange young man was helping Greg push our car to the curb. Leaving Howard with the disabled car, Greg offered to take me home. A little later, he and our grandson were able to push the car to their house to check it out.
Finally Howard came home driving Greg's car. He told me our mechanically-inclined son was still trying to determine the problem, and they would work on it tomorrow. The car had been very reliable and had never given us any trouble since we bought it new almost nine years ago. We couldn't help but think of the many cross-country trips we have taken in it and thanked God that nothing like that had ever happened away from home!
"Who was the young man with you who helped you push the car?" I asked Greg on the drive home, to which he shrugged and said, "I have no idea. I'd never seen him before!" I had just assumed he came with him, since I had seen no pedestrian in the area. In the distraction of the moment, I didn't notice him leave. He seemed to disappear as quickly as he showed up.
We are trusting God that our car will be fixed quickly and without too much expense. We could see God's hand in the whole ordeal, from the fact that it happened close to home on a slow-traffic afternoon near our son's house and on an absolutely beautiful day, unlike the frigid temperatures of the day before and the single digits of this morning, to last night's snow being gone from the streets in the warm sunshine, not to mention the mysterious stranger.
The Bible says in Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, But the Lord delivers them out of them all." Praise the Lord!
"No, it didn't!" my husband responded, but he turned the key just the same. The car tried to start, but failed. We were in the middle of the main street in town on a Tuesday afternoon. Thankfully, it wasn't time for the adjacent school to be out, or the traffic might have been worse. Only an occasional car passed us, seemingly taking no notice of our distress.
"Call Greg!" Howard instructed tersely. We were only one street over from our son's house, but when I reached him he was across town at a farm supply store. He promised he would be right there and drove up a few minutes later. (We live in a small town.)
Just then a man in a pickup truck stopped beside us and asked if we needed a jump. Howard waved him on, saying he was trying to reach roadside service. Suddenly a strange young man was helping Greg push our car to the curb. Leaving Howard with the disabled car, Greg offered to take me home. A little later, he and our grandson were able to push the car to their house to check it out.
Finally Howard came home driving Greg's car. He told me our mechanically-inclined son was still trying to determine the problem, and they would work on it tomorrow. The car had been very reliable and had never given us any trouble since we bought it new almost nine years ago. We couldn't help but think of the many cross-country trips we have taken in it and thanked God that nothing like that had ever happened away from home!
"Who was the young man with you who helped you push the car?" I asked Greg on the drive home, to which he shrugged and said, "I have no idea. I'd never seen him before!" I had just assumed he came with him, since I had seen no pedestrian in the area. In the distraction of the moment, I didn't notice him leave. He seemed to disappear as quickly as he showed up.
We are trusting God that our car will be fixed quickly and without too much expense. We could see God's hand in the whole ordeal, from the fact that it happened close to home on a slow-traffic afternoon near our son's house and on an absolutely beautiful day, unlike the frigid temperatures of the day before and the single digits of this morning, to last night's snow being gone from the streets in the warm sunshine, not to mention the mysterious stranger.
The Bible says in Psalm 34:19, "Many are the afflictions of the righteous, But the Lord delivers them out of them all." Praise the Lord!
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Church Social
"Are you ready to go out into the winter wonderland?" quipped my daughter-in-law as she picked me up for the church ladies' Christmas party. Pulling my wraps more tightly around me, I admitted it was awfully cold out there. Temperatures had huddled in the low 20's all day, and I had complained profusely every time I'd ventured outdoors.
Stepping outside, I caught my breath. Downy flakes were falling thick and fast in a curtain of snow! So that's what she meant! Our porch light illuminated a swirling blizzard, magnified dramatically as we drove into the night. How beautiful! Our first snowfall, not counting the scanty dusting we'd had recently. Suddenly it felt Christmas-y and festive, adding a note of adventure to our outing!
We picked our way carefully up the church stairs through the feathery carpet spreading beneath our feet. Inside, a sea of red and green spread out on tables met my eye, and I remembered belatedly we were to make crafts, not particularly my cup of tea. A member in a red sweater was decorating a shimmering aluminum tree where I put down the present for the gift exchange, then balanced my plate of deviled eggs and placed them on the counter.
After sampling the delicacies and chatting over the Christmas goodies, we milled through the craft supplies, admiring the examples our leader had made: Ribbon wreaths, centerpieces, and door hangers. Demonstrating by bending a clothes hanger for a base, she made it look easy, so soon I was constructing my own door hanger. My adventures with the glue gun got me a burnt finger, but a helpful college miss deftly fastened my ornaments to the base of greenery I managed to twist through the hanger. Topped by a (bit-lopsided) bow and hung on the knob of a display cabinet at home later, my efforts looked credible.
Games of identifying Christmas Bible characters pinned on our backs and writing as many words as possible from "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," were fun and challenging. The beautiful sample crafts were given as prizes for the winners of the word game, and although I was fast, younger minds outstripped me (but I know it was because I wrote longer words!).
Our evening was abbreviated a bit by uncertainties about the weather, but at least the snow was not icy, so driving conditions were manageable, if exhilarating. As far as I know, everyone arrived at home safely, and, I am sure, cheered by the fun and fellowship, the glow of Christmas warming hearts and a winter wonderland to dream on. "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?" Job 38:22. Tonight we had.
Stepping outside, I caught my breath. Downy flakes were falling thick and fast in a curtain of snow! So that's what she meant! Our porch light illuminated a swirling blizzard, magnified dramatically as we drove into the night. How beautiful! Our first snowfall, not counting the scanty dusting we'd had recently. Suddenly it felt Christmas-y and festive, adding a note of adventure to our outing!
We picked our way carefully up the church stairs through the feathery carpet spreading beneath our feet. Inside, a sea of red and green spread out on tables met my eye, and I remembered belatedly we were to make crafts, not particularly my cup of tea. A member in a red sweater was decorating a shimmering aluminum tree where I put down the present for the gift exchange, then balanced my plate of deviled eggs and placed them on the counter.
After sampling the delicacies and chatting over the Christmas goodies, we milled through the craft supplies, admiring the examples our leader had made: Ribbon wreaths, centerpieces, and door hangers. Demonstrating by bending a clothes hanger for a base, she made it look easy, so soon I was constructing my own door hanger. My adventures with the glue gun got me a burnt finger, but a helpful college miss deftly fastened my ornaments to the base of greenery I managed to twist through the hanger. Topped by a (bit-lopsided) bow and hung on the knob of a display cabinet at home later, my efforts looked credible.
Games of identifying Christmas Bible characters pinned on our backs and writing as many words as possible from "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year," were fun and challenging. The beautiful sample crafts were given as prizes for the winners of the word game, and although I was fast, younger minds outstripped me (but I know it was because I wrote longer words!).
Our evening was abbreviated a bit by uncertainties about the weather, but at least the snow was not icy, so driving conditions were manageable, if exhilarating. As far as I know, everyone arrived at home safely, and, I am sure, cheered by the fun and fellowship, the glow of Christmas warming hearts and a winter wonderland to dream on. "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow?" Job 38:22. Tonight we had.
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Up on the Housetop
"I'm on my way to town to get a gingerbread house kit for the kids," my daughter Amy said over phone. "They have already made five," she went on. Five! When I asked what they were doing with them, she said they were miniature ones for a gingerbread village. Our 16-year-old granddaughter was home recovering from surgery, bored and depressed, so this was something she could do.
I couldn't help but think of the time about 10 years ago when I was babysitting these grandchildren, and Amy had brought along a gingerbread kit to entertain them. Well, it looked pretty daunting to me, but after I put a chicken on to stew for supper, we opened the box and began. How hard could it be? I'd seen one my other grandchildren had made, and it looked straight out of a story book.
The frosting (glue) seemed right, and there were slots on the special tray to hold up the sides while we worked. Amid much finger licking and tasting, we applied the "glue" and set up the sides.
The young'uns quickly lost interest when a neighbor child wanted them to play outside, so I carefully applied the roof sections, which I held in place for awhile for a better set. When one side started to slide, I gently pressed on it, and the roof section split in half! After trying various things to reinforce it, I resorted to sticking it onto a piece of cardboard. (Under all that frosting, who would know?)
By the time the three little rosy-cheeked kiddos came in, I was ready to let them decorate it. They carefully applied gum drops to the roof, M&Ms to the windows, and sprinkles to the pathway. Everything and everybody was getting to be a sticky mess, when one cherub announced, "The front wall caved in!" We decided we'd call it a picture window and go on.
Then the roof slid off, was re-fastened, and under the weight of little fingers and heavy ornamentation finally collapsed, bringing the house down with it.
Maybe it was the steam from the chicken in the pot that had made the icing unable to stick, but I knew how the man who built his house upon the sand must have felt! I haven't made a gingerbread house since, but if I do, I won't multi-task, and there will definitely be no children present! I much prefer a house like the one built on a rock! Matthew 7:24.
I couldn't help but think of the time about 10 years ago when I was babysitting these grandchildren, and Amy had brought along a gingerbread kit to entertain them. Well, it looked pretty daunting to me, but after I put a chicken on to stew for supper, we opened the box and began. How hard could it be? I'd seen one my other grandchildren had made, and it looked straight out of a story book.
The frosting (glue) seemed right, and there were slots on the special tray to hold up the sides while we worked. Amid much finger licking and tasting, we applied the "glue" and set up the sides.
The young'uns quickly lost interest when a neighbor child wanted them to play outside, so I carefully applied the roof sections, which I held in place for awhile for a better set. When one side started to slide, I gently pressed on it, and the roof section split in half! After trying various things to reinforce it, I resorted to sticking it onto a piece of cardboard. (Under all that frosting, who would know?)
By the time the three little rosy-cheeked kiddos came in, I was ready to let them decorate it. They carefully applied gum drops to the roof, M&Ms to the windows, and sprinkles to the pathway. Everything and everybody was getting to be a sticky mess, when one cherub announced, "The front wall caved in!" We decided we'd call it a picture window and go on.
Then the roof slid off, was re-fastened, and under the weight of little fingers and heavy ornamentation finally collapsed, bringing the house down with it.
Maybe it was the steam from the chicken in the pot that had made the icing unable to stick, but I knew how the man who built his house upon the sand must have felt! I haven't made a gingerbread house since, but if I do, I won't multi-task, and there will definitely be no children present! I much prefer a house like the one built on a rock! Matthew 7:24.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
This is the Day That the Lord Has Made!
"I thought it wasn't supposed to get cold till Thursday!" I exclaimed yesterday as we headed out the door to a grey, bone-chilling dampness that penetrated my coat and sweater. Wednesday had been unseasonably warm and beautiful. We should have gone shopping then. Still, it was fun to get away, despite an unexpected lunch incident.
"I wonder if there is a KFC here," I said, knowing that at home they had a Wednesday lunch special we liked. The GPS showed one a mile or so away, but it turned out to be in a seedy part of town, not the bright, cheerful atmosphere in the upscale shopping area of Stillwater we usually enjoyed. They did not have the special, and as we were placing our order, an overly-friendly disheveled man leaned on Howard's shoulder saying he was hungry.
"Do you know this man?" I heard my husband ask the cashier. She shook her head, and I busied myself getting our drinks while Howard added one more order to ours. Then he was engrossed in conversation with the man, no doubt ministering to him, I knew. Our order came, and the stranger set his down across the room. Suddenly he was at our table with arms outstretched to embrace us. Taken aback, I waved him off, and Howard said he would talk to him after we ate. He had said he was a diabetic and didn't have money for medicine. Although he reeked of stale beer, my better half gave him some money, eliciting a promise that he wouldn't buy more with it.
Things got better as we found gift possibilities in a Christmas-y store, wearing ourselves out with shopping and getting an ice-cream cone for the ride home. Once there, I was inspired to put up my nativity set after retrieving it from storage in the basement. One thing led to another in my decorating, and I found myself exhausted with supper to prepare before getting ready for church.
The warm, comforting meal of mashed potatoes, collard greens, pork chops and hot cornbread, coupled with the cozy house on this cold winter night tempted me to stay home. I couldn't believe it when we walked into the church and saw it alive with kids and activity. I had forgotten it was family night! We could have stayed home! Still, who could resist the animation of the children as they played their games! I even got to assist my little granddaughter with a lesson page at one point, helping her spell out words about God's blessings.
The adults were drafted to play a mad-gab game, deciphering mixed-up letters and words. This was fun! I found myself energized and refreshed, not only from the game, but from the earnest words of the kids' leader as he drove home spiritual truths in a way they could understand. Like the needy man who had tears in his eyes today when Howard told him God loves him and desires to heal him, I found my eyes misting in the knowledge of how God loves the children. I wasn't tired at all when I got home!
"I wonder if there is a KFC here," I said, knowing that at home they had a Wednesday lunch special we liked. The GPS showed one a mile or so away, but it turned out to be in a seedy part of town, not the bright, cheerful atmosphere in the upscale shopping area of Stillwater we usually enjoyed. They did not have the special, and as we were placing our order, an overly-friendly disheveled man leaned on Howard's shoulder saying he was hungry.
"Do you know this man?" I heard my husband ask the cashier. She shook her head, and I busied myself getting our drinks while Howard added one more order to ours. Then he was engrossed in conversation with the man, no doubt ministering to him, I knew. Our order came, and the stranger set his down across the room. Suddenly he was at our table with arms outstretched to embrace us. Taken aback, I waved him off, and Howard said he would talk to him after we ate. He had said he was a diabetic and didn't have money for medicine. Although he reeked of stale beer, my better half gave him some money, eliciting a promise that he wouldn't buy more with it.
Things got better as we found gift possibilities in a Christmas-y store, wearing ourselves out with shopping and getting an ice-cream cone for the ride home. Once there, I was inspired to put up my nativity set after retrieving it from storage in the basement. One thing led to another in my decorating, and I found myself exhausted with supper to prepare before getting ready for church.
The warm, comforting meal of mashed potatoes, collard greens, pork chops and hot cornbread, coupled with the cozy house on this cold winter night tempted me to stay home. I couldn't believe it when we walked into the church and saw it alive with kids and activity. I had forgotten it was family night! We could have stayed home! Still, who could resist the animation of the children as they played their games! I even got to assist my little granddaughter with a lesson page at one point, helping her spell out words about God's blessings.
The adults were drafted to play a mad-gab game, deciphering mixed-up letters and words. This was fun! I found myself energized and refreshed, not only from the game, but from the earnest words of the kids' leader as he drove home spiritual truths in a way they could understand. Like the needy man who had tears in his eyes today when Howard told him God loves him and desires to heal him, I found my eyes misting in the knowledge of how God loves the children. I wasn't tired at all when I got home!
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