Emptying Our Hands

“I spread out my hands to you;

my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.”

Psalm 143: 6

     I am a multi-tasker. I never just watch TV: I knit, pay bills, needlepoint, or even read.  I never just go on errands:  I listen to audio books, brainstorm ideas, make mental lists, and think through problems.

     I pride myself on efficiency.  I rarely leave a room without taking something with me that needs to go elsewhere.  I rarely have one thought at a time, but two.
     This morning I began to reconsider my ways.

     I was at my coffee pot—a coffee maker with a carafe. My habit is to bring the full carafe into my office so I can refill my cup there (it’s more efficient that way, you know?)  This morning I picked up a clean coffee cup, some extra sweetener, and the carafe, then closed a cabinet drawer with my hip because I had no hands free. 

     Suddenly, it hit me:  I go through life with my hand’s full.
     Oddly, the thought did not come as a compliment, but a slap. 
     But how could that be?  How could a trait I’d always considered an attribute be presented to my conscience as a defect?

     I set the coffee supplies on my desk—dropping two packets of sweetener on the floor in the process—then sank into my work chair.

     I turned my hands palms-up.  My empty hands.  Surely doing many things at once was a good thing.  After all, isn’t the centuries-old idiom true:  “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop”?
     Yet looking at my open hands I realized the gesture was a natural display of supplication and worship.  On impulse, I picked up my coffee mug with one hand and a pen in the other.  I looked at my hands again.

     The supplication and worship were gone.

     But it was good to work. “If a man is lazy, the rafters sag; if his hands are idle, the house leaks. (Ecclesiastes 10:18).  And one of my favorites, “Be strong and do the work." (1 Chronicles 28:10)
     But if work and being busy had become my focus . . . if I always kept my hands full . . .
     I took out my Bible, looking up “Hands” in the concordance. There were bad words associated with hands:  idle, lazy, evil.  But there were also good connotations:  train my hands, lay their hands, lift his hands, wash their hands, clap your hands.  All the negative phrases had the focus on us.  All the positive phrases had the focus on God.

     I remembered the story Robert Benson shared in his book, Living Prayer. He told of his time with some monks.  He noticed their serenity and asked them about it. They explained it this way:  "When we are walking, we are walking.  When we are working, we are working . . .”
     By being efficient, making multi-tasking an art form, and keeping my hands full, was I doing nothing well?
     I put the mug and pen down and made my hands free again—free to surrender, worship, ask, receive, and pray. They were free of the accoutrements of this world and open to the blessings of the next.

     I was reminded that there is a balance between busy and open hands.  What we accomplish when our hands are full is worth much more if we let go, and let God be a part of it. Pray and perform. Worship and work. Surrender and succeed. Adore and achieve.
     “Unless the LORD builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the LORD watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain . . . Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving.”  (Psalm 127: 1 and Colossians 3: 23-24)

      Let us empty our hands and fill our hearts for the Lord—lest He wash His hands of us.

***

Want more inspirational humor? Check out 
Save Me, God! I Fell in the Carpool: Help, Hope, and Humor for Drowning Moms

Eluding the Perfection Police

"There, in the presence of the Lord your God,

you and your families shall eat and shall rejoice

in everything you have put your hand to,

because the Lord your God has blessed you."

Deuteronomy 12: 7

     I am not the best housekeeper. Our house has dust bunnies that I've made into pets. I see no reason to vacuum the carpet just to remove footprints. And I know for a fact that a few water-spots on my kitchen faucet will not cause a plague.
     It's not that I don't know how to be a perfect Suzy Homemaker. Hey, I’m well aware of Martha Stewart’s obsessions. Yet, after decades of marriage, nine houses, three cats, two dogs, and three kids, and six grandkids I've chosen to take it down a notch.

     When the kids were young and the perfection-police invaded our domain, I’d bark orders: "Carson, you cut a swath through the family room. Emily, hose down the kitchen, and Laurel, capture all the dust bunnies. I'll conquer the laundry.  Any questions?"

     Carson raised a hand.  "Why are we doing this? Is Grandma coming to visit?"
     "No."
     "The pope?"

     I glared at them.  "No one's coming to visit.  We're cleaning the house for us. We do like a clean house, don't we?"
     Realizing this was a trick question, the kids looked at each other and shrugged. 
     "What's that shrug supposed to mean?" I snapped.
     "We'll help," Emily said, "but we don't understand why you're so . . . so . . ."
     "Zealous," Carson said.
     We all stared at him.  "Where did you get that word?" I asked.
     Carson looked at the ceiling, trying to remember.  "I think I read it in an article about wild-eyed fanatics who tried to take over some country."
     "Are you implying I'm wild-eyed?" I asked, brandishing a broom in the air like a sword. 
     My children's silence was my answer. I looked around at the morning newspaper strewn on the coffee table, a lone pair of shoes by the wall, the couch pillows which would only take a few moments to straighten. "Maybe I was exaggerating a bit," I conceded.  "Maybe things aren't as messy as I thought."
     The kids' shoulders relaxed. They'd been given a reprieve from the perfection-police, and their zealous mother—who was (and is) far from perfect.
     The perfection-police visit far less often now. The popcorn bowl in the sink, mail on the counter, a basket of socks that need matching, and a baseball hat flung over the stair post are not capital crimes. They're proof that a family lives here.
     And that is true perfection.

***

Want more inspirational humor? Check out 
Save Me, God! I Fell in the Carpool: Help, Hope, and Humor for Drowning Moms

The Racing Pigeon Club

"How great is God—beyond our understanding!

The number of his years is past finding out."

Job 36: 26

     My husband and I were driving to Nebraska for a football game.  I was at the wheel.  A pickup pulling an enclosed trailer passed me.  On the back of the trailer was written "Siouxland Racing Pigeon Club."
     My first thought was, You've got to be kidding.  My second thought was more gracious. A racing pigeon club?  Really? How exactly does one get interested in such a thing?  As opposed to . . . quilting clubs, travel clubs, antique car clubs, ski clubs, or traveling nearly four hours every football Saturday to watch our alma mater play ball?

     There's a club for every interest and an interest in every club, hobby, sport, or diversion. There are also over 900,000 varieties of insects in the world, 400,000 different plants, and at least as many varieties of chocolate (or is that simply a personal wish?) 
     Is this volume of variety really necessary?

     Obviously, yes.  To quote a line from the movie "Robin Hood:  Prince of Thieves":  "God loves wondrous variety."
     For God made each and every species, genus, group, and classification.  He created them, "And God saw that it was good."  (Genesis 1: 21)

     Later that day, as my husband and I sat in the football stadium among 85,000 of our closest friends, I looked across the crowd and tried to see individuals, each with distinct qualities, talents, hopes, dreams, and destinies. God created each one with a unique purpose.  He wants to know each one on a personal basis, and longs to hear their prayers—and answer them. It's estimated that 106,456,367,669 people have ever lived. (I love the audacity of the "9" at the end of this number.) That's a lot of variety, that's a lot of unique purposes, that's a lot of Divine attention to detail.

     That's a lot of Divine love, over a lot of years. 

     Such numbers are unfathomable—to us.  But not to Him.  "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day." (2 Peter 3: 8)

     We don't understand the need for this vast amount of variety, but God does.  I truly believe there is a reason for each insect, each flower, each person.

     Isaiah 40:28-29 says it wonderfully:  "Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom."

     And yet accepting this variety, pondering the immensity of it, marveling in it, we can also marvel in the fact there is only one God. One Christ Jesus, the way, the truth, and the light. One who is the great I-Am. (Exodus 3: 14)

     So during this season to be thankful, take a moment to look around at your world—which is the same yet different from my world.  Take note of the wondrous variety, be awed by it, remember our one God who created it all, and allow yourself a sweet indulgence to feel special.

    And very, very blessed.

***

Want more inspirational humor? Check out 
Save Me, God! I Fell in the Carpool: Help, Hope, and Humor for Drowning Moms

Getting Ahead of the Game

"Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling.

Each one should use whatever gift 
he has received to serve others,

faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms."

I Peter 4: 9-10

     I always vow this will be the year I get ahead of the game—whatever that game might be. 
     I'm tired of procrastinating.  I'm tired of feeling the pressure of should-dos. I'm tired of being tired. So . . . my solution is to embrace the Boy Scout motto:  be prepared. Ahead of time. A little at a time.

     The first test occurs right away as I make preparations for some family visitors who are staying two nights. I need to be domestic and clean and cook.
     Unfortunately, none of these attributes are my attributes, unless I’m in the mood, and I’ve long realized those moods can easily leapfrog months. Or years. 
     But this year, with my new resolution in tow, I vow that I will get ahead of the game and get the entire thing under control. D-day (done-day) is five days away, when the guests will arrive.
     Day #1:  I psych myself up to do it right. 
     However, as the day wears on and I haven't actually done anything beyond thinking about doing something, I end up feeling very much like Scarlett O’Hara:  I’ll do it tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day. 
     Day #2:  I look at my to-do list and divide the house into battle zones:  basement, main floor, top floor. When the kids were little, I used to draw squares in the carpet of  their bedrooms with a finger, telling them to “Clean up this square” in an attempt to make the chaos seem more manageable. This might have been a helpful memory until I acknowledge the first floor of my house is mostly wood.
      Instead I collect dirty dishes from all three floors and fill the dishwasher. 
     I forget to turn it on.

     Day #3:   Feeling guilty for yesterday, I make a menu and a grocery list.  I even recopy the list according to sections in the grocery store:  Produce, Dairy, and the Fat-Sugar-Chemical aisle.  Knowing this is above and beyond any “getting ahead of the game” scenario I ever aspired to, I feel smug and done for the day but . . . I refuse to give into the temptation and actually go to the grocery store and buy the things I need.
     It takes two carts.
     Back home, enticed by the food in the Fat-Sugar-Chemical aisle, I make lunch. And since that makes a mess, I dive in and cook the menu items that can be frozen until the weekend. Adrenalin kicks in. Four hours later I have made sweet & sour chicken, coffee cake, muffins, crumb cookies, and a monstrous mess. I wonder if Merry Maids has a 911 number . . .
     I clean up and collapse on the couch.  I fall asleep to "Law & Order" reruns.

     Day #4:  I remember the Proverbs 31 Woman (sigh) and try to take verse seventeen to heart:  "She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks."  We'll see about that.
     The basement beckons.  As I vacuum, I notice a path in the carpet the cats have made on their way to their Poo-Room. I decide to force them into a new path by pulling out a bar stool, relocating a potted plant, and moving a footstool in the direct line of their padding little feet. I wait for a cat to run the gauntlet. Pepper complies, and I feel momentarily victorious, until I realize a new path will be pressed into the carpet. 
     I also realize as I vacuum the stairway, that the felines are not the only guilty party. Looking down upon my work, I see my own footprints in the plush. Because there is no solution, and because my back hurts, I retire to the couch and watch "Law & Order" reruns.
     Day #5 -- D-Day:  I wallow in the fact the wood floor cannot leave track marks like the carpet, but grieve that it produces a community of dust bunnies. I do my best rounding them up before proceeding to the second floor where bathrooms and clean sheets beckon. I try to imitate a fabric softener commercial by making a sheet float through the air to fall neatly on the bed. I only succeed in getting it caught in the ceiling fan and knocking over a lamp. But I make my mother proud by making everything fresh and new—including hospital corners.
     It’s nearly time for them to arrive. I'm sweaty and want a nap. If I ignore the need for makeup, I could probably slip in ten minutes of rest. I close my eyes (to afternoon "Law & Order" reruns) and am nearly asleep when a kitty jumps up on my chest. From my position on the couch I notice the entry light has cobwebs. The cat jumps to safety as I take care of it. 
     And the windows need washing . . . Hopefully, no one will be tempted to look through them.

     And my roots need touching up . . . If I comb my hair just right or wear a hat . . .
     The doorbell rings. And so the weekend begins. The house is filled with family who bring their coats, suitcases, and oft-heard stories, which makes me realize no one is looking at the house anyway.  We are too busy talking and being.
     The fellowship is awesome, the food edible, and time flies. 
     As they leave I vow to add something to my “get ahead of the game” scenario:  don’t worry so much about anything because my family don’t care about kitty tracks, they accept whatever level of scrubbed tub I can manage, and they’d settle for McDonald’s if that’s what I chose to serve.  

     They love me and I love them, and our time together is what’s important.  "If we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us." (I John 4: 12)
     Knowing that is truly getting ahead of the game.

***

Want more inspirational humor? Check out 
Save Me, God! I Fell in the Carpool: Help, Hope, and Humor for Drowning Moms

Costume Jewelry Brooches as Ornaments

For years I've been collecting pretty pins/brooches, most from the 50's and 60's.  The trouble is, they are way too fancy for the clothing I wear every day. I just don't dress up very often.

My brooches spent some time in a glass-topped display coffee table, but I wanted to use them in a different way.  So this year I hung them on a Christmas tree. 


Add an ornament hook and you've got a gorgeous addition to your tree.  Put them near a tree light and you'll make the most use of their sparkle potential!



Often pins can be purchased at garage sales, on Ebay, Etsy, or borrowed from your grandma's jewelry box.  Some aren't expensive at all.  Mine are vintage, but you can buy them new and sparkly too.

So sparkle up and enjoy!  Merry Christmas!

 

Christmas Wreaths in 30 minutes

Have you seen the price of ready-made wreaths lately?  $100 and up!  Considering we have double doors and need to have double wreaths, I decided to make them myself.

And it wasn't hard.  I went to Hobby Lobby when they had 50% off their Christmas stuff and bought the materials which consisted of:

1.  a ready-made swag
2.  a roll of 6" mesh ribbon (30' long.  Plenty for more than two wreaths.)
3.  a roll of contrasting 21" mesh ribbon (30' long.  This is enough for two wreaths.)
4.  very thin, bendable wire

The swag I found  was naturally vertical, but I made autumn wreaths using horizontal swags, bending them into a straight line, and hanging them vertically. (see photo at bottom of blog.) So find a swag  you like and improvise.


The star of these wreaths is the wide mesh ribbon. It was also 50% off. 

To make the 21" wide ribbon into a huge bow, I folded it in on itself and sewed down the middle to hold it.  Do not use tape (as you see I did at the left, using masking tape to hold it) as taking the tape off will rip the ribbon!  And leaving the tape on there makes it too stiff to gather at the center of the bow.

Learn from my mistake and sew it by machine or even by hand, using a running stitch.








Gather up the bow at the middle and wrap thin wire around it, twisting the wire ends.  I LOVE this wire.  It's so easy to use.

Then make another smaller bow with the 6" mesh.  You don't need to sew this bow as being less wide, it's manageable as is. When it's created, wire it on top of the big bow.

To make the hangy-down parts of the bows, let the ribbon (which has been on rolls) do it's own thing!

Cut to the length you want and wire it to the center of the bows.  I just left it in one long length, folded in half at the top, but you can cut it into two if it works better for you.

Attach the ready-made swag into the of center of the bows with wire.  Voila!  These Christmas wreaths cost me about $40 each.  And they're huge.   The one for autumn was only $25.

So whether you need a wreath for spring, summer, fall, or the holidays, buy these four materials and in 30 minutes you're done!

Canning Cinnamon Pear Sauce



A family of pears:  Papa, Mama,
Teen, and Baby

One of the best gifts my parents ever gave me was a pressure cooker for canning.  Over the years I've canned applesauce, peaches, salsa, and pears. I'd like to try tomatoes...

A task for another day.

Today I'm dealing with pears. My sister has a pear tree in her yard and just gave me a huge box of them.  You can't refuse or ignore free fruit, so I decided to can them.

Here are my step by step instructions:







You will need:


1.  a pressure cooker canner.  Mine hold 7 quarts or pints.

2.  another big kettle to boil the fruit in.








3.  a strainer on a stand with a one-handled rolling pin










4.  Canning Mason jars with the metal rims (that you can use many times).  You can get pint jars or quart jars.  I like the wide-mouth jars the best.

5.  dome lids.  You use these once and discard. The jars you buy have them already, but you'll need more if you keep canning in the future!
6.  wide-mouth funnel that fits on top of jars
7.  Pears or apples
8.  red hot candies
9.  Vitamin C tablets (capsules also work, but tablets dissolve better.) 

Walmart has these supplies.  Or Amazon.

 

 

READY, SET, CAN!

 

1.  Wash the fruit and the glass jars.
2.  Put a big kettle of water on to boil
3.  Quarter the pears.  I cut off the stem, but you don't have to peel or seed them.
4.  Put them in the water and boil them until a sharp knife can cut them with no effort
 
 








5.  Pour them into a big colander to drain off the water.  They are nice and mushy now.

6.  Place your strainer over a bowl (mine is handily on a stand) and using a wooden one-handle rolling pin, strain the mushy pears into the bowl.  The seeds and skin stay behind, and the delicious pear sauce strains through. You'll have to do this many times, and will also have to repeatedly scrape out the inside of the strainer to get rid of the pear parts to discard.

7.  Stir in some red-hot candies and sugar.  Or not.  Make it to your taste.  I used about 1/4 c. candies for the bowl you see (that held enough sauce for 3+ pints), and 1/4 c. sugar.  But sometimes I've used no sugar at all.












8.  Using the wide-mouth funnel, fill the jar to 1/2" from top
9.  Add one Vitamin C tablet.  This prevents the fruit from changing color.  It's mostly for use if you want to can fruit slices in a sugar syrup (see directions at the end of the blog), but I always put it in the sauce jars too.  Habit.  And more vitamin C is a good thing!
10.  Wipe off the top of the jar rim with a towel (so it will seal well) and put a flat lid on it, then screw on the metal ring. 
11.  Place the jars in the pressure cooker in a circle, with one in the middle.  In my cooker I can get six around the sides and one in the middle. It's okay if they touch.  Read the directions for your pressure cooker, but mine says to add 2 quarts of water around the jars.
12.  Secure the pressure cooker lid and place the jiggle-pressure bauble (what IS the term for this?) at 5# pressure on top of the cooker.
13.  Turn the burner on high.  When the bauble starts bobbling (ha!) and continues to bobble about 4 times a minute, it means the air inside the cooker has been removed.  NOW start timing.  10 minutes. You can turn the heat down to Medium Hi, but you want the bauble to keep making noise at 4 bobbles /minute.  It can be more, but not less.
14.  When the ten minutes is up, turn off the heat and leave it alone!  This is very important for your safety.  I set the timer at 45 minutes and leave it alone for that amount of time.
15.  After 45 minutes, open the lid, but angle it toward the back because you will be releasing a lot of steam.  Carefully remove the jars to a towel on the counter.  You can use a fancy jar grabber tool, but I just use a towel.  The jars are very hot!
16.  Leave the jars alone to cool.  No breeze, just naturally. After 8 hours or so you can remove the metal screw-top lids.  The tops of the gold dome lid should be indented, meaning there is a good seal!  I like to write the date on the lid with a Sharpie.

Voila!  I made 7 pints of pear pieces and 13 pints of pear sauce!  It took 3 hours.

More directions:  To can pear pieces (you can see them behind the sauce above), I peeled and cored the pears, but did not boil them because they were ripe already.  I added a sugar water--sweet to your taste--to 1/2" from the top.  Add Vitamin C and repeat #10-16.

I know there are other methods, but this is the way my mom taught me, and I'm not going to argue with her (she's 93!)  Try canning.  It will make you feel so domestic and healthy!

Check out other food items I've pinned on Pinterest!