We all have an abundance of something, and sometimes we see our own abundance better through the eyes of someone else. We were put on this earth to share, to love, to give and to grow. Let’s live from our abundance together. And leave the legacy we are called to leave. Keep reading for tips, ramblings, recipes and more.
I took a couple of laps around our 20 acres today. It was only 30-some degrees, but it was still a lovely morning. Fresh, clean, full of promise. I’ve learned that these outdoor tromps over the dewy grass and through the woods are heart-healers for me. So, when I can, I move my regular indoor cardio routine outside. The dogs love to explore alongside me while I enjoy the sunrise, birdsong, budding trees and whatever else God has in store for me. This morning, it was daffodils in bloom.
I don’t know how I had forgotten, but last fall I dug up a slew of daffodil bulbs from a front flower bed and relocated them. I planted them along our garden shed, around Fort Stumpter (our kids’ old treehouse) and off the sides of some of the paths in our woods. The sweet little things are blooming now.
It’s a balm to my spirit.
When I planted those bulbs, I did so in a hurry. I am a waste-not-want-not gal, and I couldn’t stand the thought of so many perfectly good daffodil bulbs going to waste after being dug up from a bed that needed re-worked. At the time, I was up to my eyeballs in tomatoes, peppers and apples while also trying to prepare our home (and property) to host our daughter’s wedding. I felt fairly overwhelmed, but I remember determining to plant some of those bulbs in a few areas with the knowledge that I’d be glad I did.
And I am.
At the time that I was planting those daffodils last September, I had no idea that my little sister would pass away in a matter of weeks. I had no idea how heavy my heart would be this spring. I had no idea how very much I would need to be reminded of good things.
I needed to be reminded of how my sister gave me those daffodil bulbs when my husband and I moved into our first home. I was pregnant with our first child, due in April, and my sister dug up daffodil bulbs from her flower bed and gave them to me with a card that read, “Maybe they’ll be blooming when the little one is born”.
As daffodils are wont to do, they filled in the flower beds nicely at that first little house. When we decided to move to the country, I dug up some of those sleeping bulbs and took them with us, planting them in a holding bed until we could get our flower beds dug around our new house. The bulbs were planted the following fall, and have been divided, shared and re-planted many times over the past 19 years. They’ve been cut for bouquets and used as backdrops for photos and put smiles on faces time and time again.
There’s an old saying about transplanted bulbs:
First, they sleep.
Then, they creep.
At last, they leap!
The sleeping is over and the creeping has begun. These little ones are adapting to their new places and will soon become happy, exuberant patches of sunshine throughout our woods and along our shed. Who knows how many hearts will be reminded of good things because of these sweet harbingers of spring.
I, for one, am thankful. I am thankful for some things I’d forgotten and for heart-healers along even the hardest paths.
Wowzy.
The conversation around rising grocery prices seems to be always on the table these days.
Eggs are $4/dozen. Butter is $5/pound. A pound of ground beef is $7…and that’s the cheap stuff!
The interesting thing to me is how angry some people are about it–like it’s a personal attack. It isn’t. It’s the age-old story of suppy and demand. Americans have just had such low costs for such a long time that it’s kind of shocking to watch our food costs rise 30% in three months, huh? Kinda forces us to re-prioritze a bit, doesn’t it? Well, it should, anyway. Most of us are overdue.
Now that all three of our kiddos are out on their own, my grocery needs have definitely changed. It’s easier to keep our spending to $250/month–even with the inflation. I confess that I’ve gotten lazy with some things, though. I often buy bagged salad. Orange juice finds its way into our house more often…as does ice cream. (On a side note, it’s remarkable how much longer a jug of OJ and a container of ice cream last now without kids in the house!) I tend to put what I WANT on my list instead of what I NEED. In general, I find I’m better off to just stay out of the store altogether when possible.
As I watch my kids navigate these all-time-high grocery prices, I alternate between feeling kind of sorry for them and being really proud of them. They’ve come from a standard of homegrown, high-quality food and are now being charged a great deal more money for a product of lesser quality. They all seem to be handling this “sticker shock” in their own way, and I’m pleased to say that none of them are playing the victim. They’re figuring it out, as millions of young adults have done before them. That’s one of the things that makes a successful adult–figuring it out.
I remember my husband and I doing the same thing–rejoicing when we found bananas for $ .19/pound or came across country ribs for $ .88/pound. These were glorious victories to us when we were newly married and in college full-time! We learned to think about what we bought, to plan ahead for low-cost, healthy meals and to use self-control. Little did I know that these three principles would some day be the foundation of my Eat Cheap! platform, providing opportunities and experiences for my family and me that we would not have otherwise had. I’m thankful for those lean years. And I’m thankful that my kids grew up knowing the difference between a need and a want.
Years ago, at one of my Eat Cheap! classes, a woman asked me why I wanted to deprive my kids. She was kind of joking but I could also tell that she wanted to understand what kind of unreasonable woman would put toothpaste in her kids’ stockings and limit the amount of maple syprup they used on their waffles. The room got really quiet as the rest of the audience listened for my answer. I replied with, “I really don’t want to deprive my kids. Honest. As a matter of fact, I am trying to do the opposite. My job is to prepare them for life. My kids may never have to worry about money. They may not have to struggle and skimp and save like their daddy and I have. BUT, if they do, I want them to know that they can do it. It will be a lot easier for them to adjust their lifestyle UP than it will be to adjust their lifestyle DOWN”.
None of us always gets what we want. I guess I feel like childhood is the most reasonable time for that lesson to be learned. Otherwise, it’s a hard bell to un-ring.
So, while costs continue to rise, I continue to re-evaluate my approach to grocery shopping. What do I really need? What do I already have that can be used? Is this the best use of my money today? Will it really kill me if I eat this leftover vegetable soup for the fourth day in a row?
(The answer to that last question is, “Yes. Give it to Dave. He’ll eat anything”.)
I started my Saturday in an overgrown flower bed.
I pulled on my work gloves, grabbed my pruners and located the wheelbarrow. After looking at the mess for a moment or two, trying to determine the best plan of attack, I decided there was no wrong way to begin this project. I just started cutting back perennials and pulling out weeds.
I have been trying to be more intentional about having an ongoing conversation with the Lord, so I prayed while I worked. I talked to Him about one thing after the other while going about my business.
While cutting back the dried-up black-eyed susans, I prayed for a young momma whose heart is so broken with grief that she has started to self-destruct. Lord, open her eyes to what is true. Help her to see that You have not left her. Protect her children while she wanders. Bring her back to You.
While walking to the shed for the electric trimmers, I marveled at the early morning sky and praised, Lord, thank You. You are amazing. You are sovereign. You are patient and You are present.
While yanking out thistles and dandelions, I pleaded, Father, heal my friend. Root out all of the infection in his body even as I root out these weeds. Let his family feel Your holy presence and restore them to one another. Glorify Yourself in his illness and in his healing!
While wheeling load after load of weeds and dead flowers to the pasture for the cows, I thanked God for the memories on our little farm and for His continual provision for our family. Lord, your goodness is overwhelming. Thank You for all of the memories we’ve made here at Country Haven. Thank You for the precious people who have lived here with me. Guide them, Lord. Open their eyes even more to who You are and how big You love.
While cutting a few of the remaining zinnia blooms for a pretty bouquet, I thought of a young lady from church who is hospitalized with Covid. Lord, thank you for the improvements she is making. Continue to heal her body as well as her heart. Draw her and her family closer to Yourself. Protect them from the evil one.
I admit that I muttered and chattered and pondered and wept my way through my work this morning. I even chuckled out loud at myself when I skipped over the beautiful web that was situated in a clump of dead, scrubby perennials. The garden spider who had made it sat (stood?) right in its center, ready to rebuild if necessary. I left her home intact and moved on to another area.
I have found myself in a season in which I tend to worry more easily than I used to. I don’t want to carry that burden; it’s not mine to carry. God will carry every burden we leave at His feet–regardless of how often we have placed it there. I don’t always have the luxury of praying out loud while I work, but I’m trying to take advantage of the opportunities when I do. One day last week, I sat in my kitchen rambling to the Lord while peeling apples. I cried that afternoon, too. I don’t think He cared one bit, and Heaven knows I felt better after our chat.
Dear friend, I want to encourage you to talk more to Jesus, too. He is willing to wade into the weeds with you. He will not be shocked by a single thing you say. He will not yell, interrupt, roll His eyes or stare at the TV. He will actually LISTEN to you. And, if you LISTEN to Him, You are sure to feel His response in your heart.
This is a HIGHLY secret recipe, and I ABSOLUTELY CANNOT tell you my source. The implications would be disastrous. So. Please be very, very cautious with whom you share this amazing resource. With great privilege comes great responsibility.
Seriously, though, in the early 1990s I was asked to never, ever share this recipe with anyone. My employer at the time banked big money on the community’s appetite for this southern treat, and I have (mostly) complied. Until now. Don’t worry. I did my homework. With the popularity of the internet, their secret was out, and they could no longer so carefully guard their secret. Their loss is your gain.
On a side note, I have occasionally wondered how much more amazing this dessert would be if each component was made from scratch–the cookies, the whipped cream, the pudding. In the interest of full disclosure, I always come back to, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”.
6 bananas (preferably with brown speckles on their skins)
1 box vanilla wafers
1 small tub of whipped topping
1/2 c. sour cream
2 small boxes instant vanilla pudding
3 c. milk (preferably with fat in it)
Whisk pudding mix and milk well. Carefully blend in sour cream and whipped topping until no white streaks remain.
Starting with pudding mixture, make 2 or 3 relatively even layers in glass bowl: Pudding, 2 or 3 sliced bananas, cookies. Make sure to reserve enough pudding for the top layer, and garnish with a few more vanilla wafers.
Allow to refrigerate for at least 3 hours before serving.
I got a recipe for a delightful fresh peach pie from the wife of one of my college professors. These folks, Norm and Mary, were precious to me, and I thank God for them every time I see that recipe in Mary’s careful printing.
I have adapted the recipe a bit, because the pieces come out more neatly from a square pan than they do a pie plate. Either way, the deliciousness is the same. I also reduced the sugar, because ripe peaches are beautifully sweet on their own.
Graham Cracker Crust
1 1/2 c. crushed graham crackers of any flavor (about 20 squares)
1/3 c. melted butter
3 T. sugar
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Combine crumbs, butter and sugar.
Press firmly into bottom of square baking pan.
Bake 10 minutes, or until light brown. Cool completely.
Filling
3 c. fresh, sliced, peaches
1/2 c. sugar
Mix and let stand until juice forms.
Pour off juice, adding enough water to make 1 cup.
Add 2 T. cornstarch and a pinch of salt to the juice. Mix well.
Cook juice over medium heat, stirring often, until thick. Remove from heat and add 2 t. butter and about 1/2 t. of vanilla or almond extract.
Cool juice mixture for 10 minutes or so, then stir in peaches.
Gently pour over graham cracker crust.
Serve with whipped cream, if desired.
Many years ago, I heard a story that comes to mind every now and then. It was about a beautiful queen who was looking for a skilled and faithful knight to lead her guard and protect her from all danger. While I don’t remember it word-for-word, I have recounted the gist for you today.
The queen interviewed many men and narrowed the applicants down to three qualified knights. She then posed the question to each, “What skills do you have that will protect me along the narrow mountain path that leads to my castle?”
The first knight mounted his horse with a flourish and expertly maneuvered the steed through an intricate series of complicated steps for the queen to see. After his display of expert horsemanship, he leapt from the saddle and boldly landed at the queen’s feet. “My skill with a horse is so far and above any other horseman! If it pleases Your Highness, I would ask you to mount my steed at this very moment and let me parade him along the deadly drop-off of the cliff so that you can experience for yourself his sure-footedness under my masterful guidance.”
The queen quietly replied, “Thank you for your offer. I would like to first hear from the second candidate.”
The next knight strutted up to the queen’s throne, dragging a huge log behind him. With remarkable strength he swung the log around and lifted it high into the air. Smiling broadly, he addressed the queen, “As you can see, Your Highness, my strength is unequaled. I am, by far, the strongest man in you kingdom and beyond. If you will allow me, I will pick you up on your royal throne and walk a chalk line along the very edge of the sheer cliff so that you can be assured of my sure-footedness and strength.”
After a moment of silence, the queen politely responded, “Thank you for your offer. I would like to hear from the third candidate.”
The third and final knight quietly approached the queen. He humbly knelt at her feet, and slowly brought his eyes up to meet hers. “Gentle Highness,” he began, “you are of immeasurable value to your people. Along the narrow mountain path, I would be careful to keep you as far from the edge as possible, placing myself between you and the dangerous drop-off. For I know of your great worth.”
All was quiet as the queen took a few moments to look steadily into the knight’s eyes. Seeing sincerity and wisdom, she knew that she had found the man she was looking for–one who would put her well-being ahead of his own desires for pleasure or fame. She had found someone she could trust to keep her well away from the cliff.
I think of this story today, remembering two kinds of people in my life. I remember those who have pushed me to tiptoe along the cliff–to toe the line, to flirt with disaster, to compromise my own convictions of what I know to be best for me. I remember the other people–the ones who have counseled me to walk with integrity, to hug the solid wall of God’s presence, to live with my eyes fixed on Him while striving to be who He has called me to be.
Fortunately for me, I have a lot more of the second kind of people in my life. People who encourage me to be better–to draw closer to the Lord and to live a life worthy of the calling I have received. Granted, part of that is my choice to intentionally surround myself with those people. Part of it, though, is God’s faithfulness to provide skin-on reminders for me when He knows I am struggling with remembering my purpose and seeing my worth.
I have three pretty amazing children, and they have lots of amazing friends. My prayer today is that my precious kids (who, quite frankly, aren’t really kids anymore) and their remarkable friends will have the wisdom needed to recognize the people who see them as the treasures they are–and will encourage them to keep far away from the cliff.
One of my goals for this year is to spend more time alone with God in my own head. I have established the discipline of Bible and prayer time each morning, but I still struggle with quieting my mind enough to really focus on what He is saying to me. I tend to do most of the talking, if you know what I mean. I think God’s okay with not saying much, but I think He’d appreciate it if I actually listened enough to hear the answers to the prayers I tend to rapid-fire in His direction.
My primary method for listening to Him has been to take a verse or two and “chew on them” in my mind for a few minutes. It’s ridiculous how difficult it is for me to keep a million other thoughts at bay during this time, but I’m committed to continually kicking the distractions out of my brain space. I’ve found that, like most things, it gets easier with practice.
While reading through I Thessalonians 4, I noticed something I don’t remember noticing before: the repeated phrase “more and more”. I found it first in 4:1, which encourages us to “live in order to please God…more and more”. The second instance is verse 10, which exhorts us to “love all the brothers…more and more”. We all already know that we are to live and to love like Jesus, right? What strikes me now is that we are called to do so more and more.
We are called to grow.
These verses apply to every believer, regardless of their maturity in Christ. They are timeless. No matter how long we’ve known Him, how often we go to church, how much time we’ve served, how spiritual we are, how much money we’ve tithed, there is always room for growth.
There is no early retirement in the life of a Christian. If we are breathing, we should be growing in Christ–living more like Him, loving more like Him.
Spiritual growth doesn’t happen by accident. It takes work. It takes intentional commitment. It takes practice.
What are we doing to please Jesus more today that we weren’t doing a year ago? How are we loving His people better this month than we were last month? Are we spending more time alone with Him? Are we committing more of His Word to memory? Are we serving in ways that call us out of our comfort zones more often? Are we giving more money? Are we sharing more of our time? Are we encouraging more intentionally? Are we using greater self-control? Speaking more Truth? Choosing more peace over fear? Talking less and listening more?
How have we grown and how do we plan to grow more?
Looking at the big picture of continually growing is overwhelming to me. However, it’s also exciting! I am 45 years-old. Let’s say I live to be a young and vibrant 75 year-old woman. If I intentionally grow to live and to love more like Jesus for each of the next 30 years, surely I will have kicked some bad habits and received victory over some sin areas in my life. And, how many people will I have the opportunity to love better during those upcoming years than I could have loved them in years past? What a beautiful opportunity!
As my parenting responsibilities wind down, God still has ministry possibilities for me. He is still willing to grow me for His plan and His purpose. I have a calling even as I age–to know Him and to show Him more and more. What a privilege.
Sweet friends, don’t settle for less when He can give you more and more.
This is a super tasty, easy recipe that can be used a variety of ways. You can serve it on sturdy hoagie buns, spoon it over pasta, use it as a topping for French bread pizza or just eat it as-is. It’s great for the freezer, so make a huge batch and freeze some for later.
The tomatoes in this are super versatile. You can use fresh tomatoes, canned tomatoes, sauce or a combination of all of the above. You just want about 4 cups or so of tomato product to make it saucy. And as far as the meat is concerned, you can substitute ground beef or even add extra peppers & onions and opt out of the meat entirely.
1 lb. Italian sausage (links or bulk, cooked)
2 bell peppers, sliced thin
1 onion, sliced thin
3-4 minced garlic cloves
1 quart tomatoes, with juice
2 T. Italian seasoning
salt and pepper to taste
Combine all ingredients and let simmer on stovetop until slightly thickened.
Many of you know that our family is in the middle of a storm. My 13 y.o. nephew is battling cancer AND chemotherapy right now, and it just really, really stinks. Our hearts break a little bit every day.
BUT THEN, GOD.
I see Him working every day. In every situation. And I pray that Ace and my little brother and his wife and A.C.’s mom and the siblings and everyone else can see Him, too. They’re closer to the heartache. It’s scarier for them. There are rules to follow and the consequences are more real. They are deep in the trenches, and the stakes are high.
My friend, Ross, blesses me every Sunday with his music. He loves the Lord, and He prepares well to usher us into the Presence of God with songs of worship.
This is one of the songs that Ross has been singing on Sundays. It runs through my heart and mind daily right now. “I Raise a Hallelujah” by Bethel.
“My weapon is a melody…Heaven comes to fight for me!”
It’s true. When we praise, our eyes are opened to the armies which are fighting on our behalf. The devil knows it’s hard to give thanks, to sing praises when we’re feeling oppressed. That’s why our praises need to be sung–to drown out the doubts and fears and uncertainty.
I’m singing today. It may be this song, it may be Christmas music. It may be while laughing with my kids or it may be in the shower with tears streaming down my face. It doesn’t matter.
“I’m gonna sing in the middle of the storm! Louder and louder, you’re gonna hear my praises ROAR!”
Living from My Abundance 