Saturday, September 10, 2011
A Reflection of 9/11 (one of thousands)
Everywhere I turn this week I am bombarded with reminders of 9/11/2001. Television, radio, internet, newspapers….it seems to be the only topic covered in the news.
I admit I have mixed feelings about the media blitz of that catastrophic event. While I agree that it is important to remember those lost in the tragedy and the thousands of people impacted by the event and the aftermath, I wonder if it is fulfilling the intended purpose. (Do I really know the intended purpose or is it another of my false perceptions?)
We should pause to reflect on sacrifices made and the price paid for our freedom, whether it is on September 11 or December 7, Veterans Day or Memorial Day. I believe it helps us keep things in a proper perspective, remembering what the most important part of life is truly.
However, I also realize that too much reflection on a past tragedy can have the opposite effect. Instead of allowing it to pull me back to center I can let it lead me to negative emotions as I relive the event over and over again through the images I see and words I hear. This week I have seen both reactions in myself and others.
So what do we do with these conflicting emotions and thoughts? What do we do as Christians? What do we do as Americans?
One thing is certain. We will face trying times in the future. There is no get out of jail free card in life. And even though we Americans seem to live our lives with the ill conceived idea that we are somehow more special and should never have to face bad times or attacks on our country and our way of life, we are no more immune from tragedy than are the people of Iraq, Afghanistan, Somalia, or the Sudan.
I was struck by this quote by Daniel Darling in his article “Leadership Lesson from 9/11” posted yesterday morning on www.crosswalk.com
And so as we think back on 9/11 and move forward, we should be wise to vote for leaders who we’d want leading us in a time of trouble and we’d be wise to allow Christ to develop in us the character necessary to lead well where we are called.
I believe at least one of the answers to the question of what to do is wrapped up well here. When the next time of extreme trouble hits America, we need leaders who can guide us in and through it. We need to look for those traits when choosing who to vote for.
On the other hand, we can’t depend on one or more leaders to get us through. He or she cannot possibly be everywhere. God may place one of us in a position of leadership, whether it is in our community, our church, or maybe simply in our family.
The time of preparation is before trouble hits. May we be learning our lessons well and developing the character needed to lead when called.
Hugs,
Molly
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Where I'm From
I am from an Appalachian mountain hollow, from Duz detergent with free glasses, and from dirt roads.
I am from a 1900 clapboard farmhouse, a Warm Morning stove for winter heat and open windows in the summer where I fell asleep listening to the sound of whippoorwills and an occasional barking dog.
I am from day lilies (we called them flags), rose of sharon, butterfly bushes and mountain laurel.
I am from a Viars breakfast, from a place where it was unheard of not to have potatoes at nearly every meal.
I am from the Viars and the Evans – frugal and hardworking folks, where love was found both in hugs and their provision.
I am from sitting up late listening to the grownups talk about their childhood days, where I learned more about my heritage from those conversations than I would have from a thousand questions I may have asked.
I am from ‘salt will dry your blood’ and ‘if you look at that centipede all your teeth will fall out’. From ‘come on over and sit a spell’. From a neighbor who would chop down a hundred year old tree with nothing but an ax because he thought it was preventing your mobile home from getting to your land.
I am from a country church where the Holy Ghost was as welcome as the preacher, from the community/family cemetery where Decoration Day was the annual family reunion.
From a one room school, a hand pump where we drew our drinking water, from making cups from a sheet of notebook paper.
I am from born at home in a three room house, catching crawdads in the creek, and fishing with a stick pole, string and a bent safety pin.
From a place where mountain people stuck together just because that’s the way we were. Where ‘outsiders’ were not easily accepted but had to earn our trust, just because that’s the way we were.
Where I’m from is a place where I will probably never go back to live but will live forever in my heart. For it is the place that helped to form me into the person I am today.
Where are you from?
Hugs,
Molly
I am from a 1900 clapboard farmhouse, a Warm Morning stove for winter heat and open windows in the summer where I fell asleep listening to the sound of whippoorwills and an occasional barking dog.
I am from day lilies (we called them flags), rose of sharon, butterfly bushes and mountain laurel.
I am from a Viars breakfast, from a place where it was unheard of not to have potatoes at nearly every meal.
I am from the Viars and the Evans – frugal and hardworking folks, where love was found both in hugs and their provision.
I am from sitting up late listening to the grownups talk about their childhood days, where I learned more about my heritage from those conversations than I would have from a thousand questions I may have asked.
I am from ‘salt will dry your blood’ and ‘if you look at that centipede all your teeth will fall out’. From ‘come on over and sit a spell’. From a neighbor who would chop down a hundred year old tree with nothing but an ax because he thought it was preventing your mobile home from getting to your land.
I am from a country church where the Holy Ghost was as welcome as the preacher, from the community/family cemetery where Decoration Day was the annual family reunion.
From a one room school, a hand pump where we drew our drinking water, from making cups from a sheet of notebook paper.
I am from born at home in a three room house, catching crawdads in the creek, and fishing with a stick pole, string and a bent safety pin.
From a place where mountain people stuck together just because that’s the way we were. Where ‘outsiders’ were not easily accepted but had to earn our trust, just because that’s the way we were.
Where I’m from is a place where I will probably never go back to live but will live forever in my heart. For it is the place that helped to form me into the person I am today.
Where are you from?
Hugs,
Molly
Friday, July 22, 2011
Share or Hoard?
O.K., so it has been a long time since my last post. Over two months! Did I simply vanish like Howard Hughes? Or find myself stranded in a remote location without access to computers and internet?
No glamorous or mysterious circumstances pulled me away. No excuse other than I simply found other things to occupy my time.
Granted, some of those things were happy occasions, celebrating achievement and milestones with my family. Others were simply thieves of time.
I’ve had plenty of nudges during my time away from the blogging world. Things I felt that needed to be shared, that I wanted to share. But I did not respond to those nudges. Instead, as time went on I found it easier to ignore them.
------------------------------------
Today, I am choosing to return to my world of blogging, trusting God to help me be faithful in sharing what He is doing in my life. For life is meant to be shared, not hoarded.
Uncommon – Webster’s Dictionary defines it as ‘Not common; unusual. Far beyond the usual, normal, or customary. Remarkable.’
If I want to write about my unCommon life, I must first live it. An unCommon life is not one of ease, nor is it a bed of roses. Trials and thorns, delays and disease, sacrifice and servant hood are all required, all part of this world.
You may be thinking, ‘so, what’s so uncommon about that? Everyone faces those issues!’
This is true. But when I respond to the hard, the ugly, and the painful circumstances by leaning into God - trusting Him, obeying Him, and seeking Him - I find answers.
Sharing my journey can be another way of becoming unCommon. Perhaps sharing my faith walk will encourage another woman to persevere in hers as well.
And so, dear friends (I do consider each one of you reading this as a dear friend, though we may never meet face to face), I am back. I commit to sharing with you through this medium until God chooses to direct me elsewhere. I will be working on several posts over the next few weeks describing a recent valley of life, prayerfully considering how to share a message of hope while protecting those who have been traveling through the valley with me. Please pray with me that He will use my life to bring hope and encouragement to others.
Love and Hugs,
Molly
No glamorous or mysterious circumstances pulled me away. No excuse other than I simply found other things to occupy my time.
Granted, some of those things were happy occasions, celebrating achievement and milestones with my family. Others were simply thieves of time.
I’ve had plenty of nudges during my time away from the blogging world. Things I felt that needed to be shared, that I wanted to share. But I did not respond to those nudges. Instead, as time went on I found it easier to ignore them.
------------------------------------
Today, I am choosing to return to my world of blogging, trusting God to help me be faithful in sharing what He is doing in my life. For life is meant to be shared, not hoarded.
Uncommon – Webster’s Dictionary defines it as ‘Not common; unusual. Far beyond the usual, normal, or customary. Remarkable.’
If I want to write about my unCommon life, I must first live it. An unCommon life is not one of ease, nor is it a bed of roses. Trials and thorns, delays and disease, sacrifice and servant hood are all required, all part of this world.
You may be thinking, ‘so, what’s so uncommon about that? Everyone faces those issues!’
This is true. But when I respond to the hard, the ugly, and the painful circumstances by leaning into God - trusting Him, obeying Him, and seeking Him - I find answers.
Sharing my journey can be another way of becoming unCommon. Perhaps sharing my faith walk will encourage another woman to persevere in hers as well.
And so, dear friends (I do consider each one of you reading this as a dear friend, though we may never meet face to face), I am back. I commit to sharing with you through this medium until God chooses to direct me elsewhere. I will be working on several posts over the next few weeks describing a recent valley of life, prayerfully considering how to share a message of hope while protecting those who have been traveling through the valley with me. Please pray with me that He will use my life to bring hope and encouragement to others.
Love and Hugs,
Molly
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Tasty Tuesday - Hamburger Baked Beans
My activity level has cranked into high gear which explains my absence here at my bloggy home. I’ve made a trip to Indy to visit my grandsons (and their Mom & Dad of course!), attended a preschool musical and graduation for grandson here, hosted the photo shoot for my granddaughter’s senior prom….and that is just the beginning! Graduation is coming up Friday with a big joint cookout on Saturday to celebrate with Marilyn and her boyfriend. Burgers, dogs, brats and all the usual side dishes will be on the table.
One of my contributions will be baked beans. Since my family prefers a bit of meat in their beans, this is the recipe I will be using. Guess I’d better make a double batch!
Hamburger Baked Beans
Ingredients:
4 slices bacon 1 cup ketchup
1 lb. lean ground beef ½ cup molasses
1 med. Onion, chopped 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 ½ tsp. salt ½ tsp dry mustard
1 (16 oz) cans pork and beans
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In medium skillet, cook bacon until crisp; set aside. Add onion and ground beef to bacon drippings and sauté until beef is brown. With slotted spoon, remove ground beef and onion and place in bottom of a 2 quart casserole dish which has been sprayed with Pam cooking spray.
In same skillet add remaining ingredients and heat until hot, stirring occasionally. Add to meat & onion mixture, stir well. Bake, uncovered, for 60 minutes.
Bet you’ll be either hosting or attending a cookout or two yourself during the coming weeks. Hope you’ll be inspired to try this version of a classic side dish.
Happy cooking,
Molly
One of my contributions will be baked beans. Since my family prefers a bit of meat in their beans, this is the recipe I will be using. Guess I’d better make a double batch!
Hamburger Baked Beans
Ingredients:
4 slices bacon 1 cup ketchup
1 lb. lean ground beef ½ cup molasses
1 med. Onion, chopped 2 tsp. Worcestershire sauce
1 ½ tsp. salt ½ tsp dry mustard
1 (16 oz) cans pork and beans
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In medium skillet, cook bacon until crisp; set aside. Add onion and ground beef to bacon drippings and sauté until beef is brown. With slotted spoon, remove ground beef and onion and place in bottom of a 2 quart casserole dish which has been sprayed with Pam cooking spray.
In same skillet add remaining ingredients and heat until hot, stirring occasionally. Add to meat & onion mixture, stir well. Bake, uncovered, for 60 minutes.
Bet you’ll be either hosting or attending a cookout or two yourself during the coming weeks. Hope you’ll be inspired to try this version of a classic side dish.
Happy cooking,
Molly
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Tasty Tuesday - Tropical Pork Chops
I am sitting here in my home office with the windows open and ceiling fan at full speed. I must tell you I LOVE summer! I realize I have a few more weeks before summer officially arrives, but this brief time of 90 degree weather warms me down to my toes! I feel the urge to put away those stick to your ribs kind of meals that require using my oven to prepare. I am ready for our grill to be in nearly full time use and my mouth is already watering just thinking about fresh sweet corn and home grown tomatoes. (Hey a gal can dream can’t she?!)
In honor of this hint of summer, this week’s recipe is a quick and tasty way to spice up pork chops. Served with a simple tossed salad on the side, you’ll have supper on the table in less than 30 minutes. Now doesn’t that put a smile on your face?!
Tropical Pork Chops
Ingredients:
6 pork chops
1 cup orange juice
1 ¼ cups Minute© rice
1 can condensed chicken & rice soup
In a large skillet, brown chops in a small amount of cooking oil. Remove chops and sprinkle rice in the same pan. Pour orange juice over the rice, then place chops on top. Pour soup over chops and rice, being sure you cover all the surface. Cover and simmer until the rice has absorbed all the liquid and the chops are tender.
Happy cooking,
Molly
In honor of this hint of summer, this week’s recipe is a quick and tasty way to spice up pork chops. Served with a simple tossed salad on the side, you’ll have supper on the table in less than 30 minutes. Now doesn’t that put a smile on your face?!
Tropical Pork Chops
Ingredients:
6 pork chops
1 cup orange juice
1 ¼ cups Minute© rice
1 can condensed chicken & rice soup
In a large skillet, brown chops in a small amount of cooking oil. Remove chops and sprinkle rice in the same pan. Pour orange juice over the rice, then place chops on top. Pour soup over chops and rice, being sure you cover all the surface. Cover and simmer until the rice has absorbed all the liquid and the chops are tender.
Happy cooking,
Molly
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Letting Go of Guilt
I sat on the side of the bed with my mother as she folded the last things to put into her suitcase. She could barely hold back the tears. I knew she didn’t want to leave, but what choice did I have? A job change was making it necessary for my husband and me to move to a new town. We had already purchased a new home there and our current house was for sale. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Mom to be alone with strangers coming in and out at odd times. My emotions were a tangled mess. Hurting to see her pain yet excited about ‘getting my life back’.
Mom had spent the previous eight months with us while my brother recovered from a serious construction accident. Although she had her own apartment and had been living independently, she was not able to drive herself to the doctor, grocery, etc. During her time with us, there had been signs of increasing forgetfulness and confusion. Signs I chose to ignore for fear it would mean she would have to stay with me.
I dearly loved my mother. It’s just that I didn’t like living with her. In fact, during those eight months there were times I thought I would lose my mind.
So now, here we were. As she recalled all the things she would miss about being with us, I simply sat there saying, “I know. I know. But we have to get the house sold and get this move behind us.”
I could have stopped her pain with a few words…all I had to do was to tell her she could stay. I didn’t and the guilt began.
Shortly after she returned to her apartment in W. Va. It was evident she could not live alone. My brother found an excellent caretaker with whom she could live. I let him take care of all the arrangements, guilt continuing to gnaw at me. When I visited, there were times when she seemed happy, others she spent accusing her caretaker of being mean. I always came away feeling even guiltier. Even though we had been given the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, that only explained her behavior. It did nothing to alleviate my thoughts of how I had abandoned her.
My mother passed away in September 1999. After the funeral my brother and I picked up the few possessions she had remaining at her caretaker’s home. On top of the box was a painting my husband had given her during the time she stayed with us. Beverly, her caretaker, told us there were times she would find Mom sitting on her bed with the painting in her lap, gazing at it and talking to herself. My heart broke again.
During those last years of Mom’s illness, I told myself over and over that I should be a better daughter. I should quit my job and bring her to live with me. Deep down I knew I couldn’t handle it but that didn’t stop the guilt. After she was gone, my guilt was as painful as the loss. I wondered if she knew how much I really loved her. Did she forgive me for making her leave my home? Would God forgive me for being so selfish to the one person in this world who loved me unconditionally?
I wish I could say that I found forgiveness and peace right away, but that would be a lie. I know that God has forgiven me for things I’ve done wrong and for things left undone that I should have done. What has taken much longer is finding a way to forgive myself. Only because of His unconditional love, His mercy and grace am I able to do that.
It still hurts to think about it. I still cry when I think about her last night in my home. But I know from my own heart as a mother that if she was able to speak to me right now from her home in heaven, she would say, “I love you. I forgive you. I’ll see you when you come home.” That is exactly what my Heavenly Father says.
One glorious day that will become a reality when I step into Heaven. Until then, I focus on the good memories of my mother and our life together.
Mom had spent the previous eight months with us while my brother recovered from a serious construction accident. Although she had her own apartment and had been living independently, she was not able to drive herself to the doctor, grocery, etc. During her time with us, there had been signs of increasing forgetfulness and confusion. Signs I chose to ignore for fear it would mean she would have to stay with me.
I dearly loved my mother. It’s just that I didn’t like living with her. In fact, during those eight months there were times I thought I would lose my mind.
So now, here we were. As she recalled all the things she would miss about being with us, I simply sat there saying, “I know. I know. But we have to get the house sold and get this move behind us.”
I could have stopped her pain with a few words…all I had to do was to tell her she could stay. I didn’t and the guilt began.
Shortly after she returned to her apartment in W. Va. It was evident she could not live alone. My brother found an excellent caretaker with whom she could live. I let him take care of all the arrangements, guilt continuing to gnaw at me. When I visited, there were times when she seemed happy, others she spent accusing her caretaker of being mean. I always came away feeling even guiltier. Even though we had been given the diagnosis of Alzheimer’s, that only explained her behavior. It did nothing to alleviate my thoughts of how I had abandoned her.
My mother passed away in September 1999. After the funeral my brother and I picked up the few possessions she had remaining at her caretaker’s home. On top of the box was a painting my husband had given her during the time she stayed with us. Beverly, her caretaker, told us there were times she would find Mom sitting on her bed with the painting in her lap, gazing at it and talking to herself. My heart broke again.
During those last years of Mom’s illness, I told myself over and over that I should be a better daughter. I should quit my job and bring her to live with me. Deep down I knew I couldn’t handle it but that didn’t stop the guilt. After she was gone, my guilt was as painful as the loss. I wondered if she knew how much I really loved her. Did she forgive me for making her leave my home? Would God forgive me for being so selfish to the one person in this world who loved me unconditionally?
I wish I could say that I found forgiveness and peace right away, but that would be a lie. I know that God has forgiven me for things I’ve done wrong and for things left undone that I should have done. What has taken much longer is finding a way to forgive myself. Only because of His unconditional love, His mercy and grace am I able to do that.
It still hurts to think about it. I still cry when I think about her last night in my home. But I know from my own heart as a mother that if she was able to speak to me right now from her home in heaven, she would say, “I love you. I forgive you. I’ll see you when you come home.” That is exactly what my Heavenly Father says.
One glorious day that will become a reality when I step into Heaven. Until then, I focus on the good memories of my mother and our life together.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Tasty Tuesday - West Virginia Fresh Strawberry Cake
A friend who lives in a warmer climate posted on Facebook this week about getting fresh strawberries from a local farm and it made my mouth water. We are still about 3 weeks away from the beginning of the strawberry harvest here in western Kentucky so I will have to wait a bit before satisfying my taste buds. This week’s recipe is an original from my grandmother (using shortening might have tipped you off that it is an older recipe!).
West Virginia Fresh Strawberry Cake
Cake Ingredients:
½ cup shortening
½ cup milk
1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
¼ tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
1 quart fresh strawberries
1 tsp strawberry extract
Icing Ingredients:
1 box confectioner’s sugar
½ stick butter
Evaporated milk (canned cream)
Cake: Combine dry ingredients. Add shortening, eggs and ¼ cup strawberries and mix on low speed until blended. Add milk, slowly increasing speed to high. Beat 3 minutes. Pour batter into a greased 9 x 13 pan. Tap sides of pan lightly to insure batter is evenly distributed. Bake in a 350 degree oven 35-45 minutes. Do not disturb the caked for the first 20 minutes as any disturbance will cause the cake to fall.
Icing: Clean remainder of strawberries, leave small ones whole and slice the larger ones. Put aside in a colander to drain thoroughly. Melt butter over low heat; add confectioner’s sugar and stir. Add milk sparingly, mixing thoroughly after each addition, until icing is creamy. (A maximum of 2 teaspoons should be enough.) Work lumps out of icing by beating vigorously.
When cake is done, allow to cool for 20 minutes. Frost with icing and then top with fresh strawberries.
This cake takes a bit of time to prepare but is definitely worth it. Like so many things in today’s world, cooking has evolved into what can be fixed fast. If you want to bring a bit of the past into your kitchen and on your family’s table, I think this would be a great way to start.
Happy cooking,
Molly
West Virginia Fresh Strawberry Cake
Cake Ingredients:
½ cup shortening
½ cup milk
1 cup sugar
2 cups flour
¼ tsp salt
2 tsp baking powder
2 eggs
1 quart fresh strawberries
1 tsp strawberry extract
Icing Ingredients:
1 box confectioner’s sugar
½ stick butter
Evaporated milk (canned cream)
Cake: Combine dry ingredients. Add shortening, eggs and ¼ cup strawberries and mix on low speed until blended. Add milk, slowly increasing speed to high. Beat 3 minutes. Pour batter into a greased 9 x 13 pan. Tap sides of pan lightly to insure batter is evenly distributed. Bake in a 350 degree oven 35-45 minutes. Do not disturb the caked for the first 20 minutes as any disturbance will cause the cake to fall.
Icing: Clean remainder of strawberries, leave small ones whole and slice the larger ones. Put aside in a colander to drain thoroughly. Melt butter over low heat; add confectioner’s sugar and stir. Add milk sparingly, mixing thoroughly after each addition, until icing is creamy. (A maximum of 2 teaspoons should be enough.) Work lumps out of icing by beating vigorously.
When cake is done, allow to cool for 20 minutes. Frost with icing and then top with fresh strawberries.
This cake takes a bit of time to prepare but is definitely worth it. Like so many things in today’s world, cooking has evolved into what can be fixed fast. If you want to bring a bit of the past into your kitchen and on your family’s table, I think this would be a great way to start.
Happy cooking,
Molly
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