My husband never...

My husband isn't.... My husband doesn't... My husband never...

(dot dot dot)  You fill in the blanks.

You fill in the blanks each day, painfully aware of all he isn't doing, all that's not been said,

The tasks that fill your waking life, until it's time again for bed.

And there he is wanting to be close, waiting to touch you in the dark,

but you've exchanged the foreplay of life, for a grumbling question mark.

How does it happen?  How does it go?

This journey from love to drudgery so?

From all that he is to all that he's not!

From the joy of our vows, to a martyr's long lot.

When did our men journey from their gifts to what's lacking,

In their character and marrow, their doing, their asking?

We once celebrated their bodies, dreams, and laughter!

But praises have faded, complaints reign in the rafters.

What happened as we grew their babies and birthed them -

staying home in the trenches of life, to raise them?

Was the cost of life's war, the death of a marriage?

But life's not war, and he's not the enemy I disparage.

We need a resurrection miracle to bring life from this wreckage!

Or maybe, just maybe, we need a little honey mixed into homemade granola.  

---

I'd done the shopping and planned meals that would bless, only to get the call that he wouldn't be flying home tonight.  Fists went to my hips with a sigh, as I looked out over my counter-space, mounded high with oats, separated egg whites, vanilla, nuts, and dried fruit. All set to make My Honey his favorite breakfast for the next morning - a culinary welcome home after long days away, but now he won’t be here.

I decide to make it anyway.  Not for him, today I need to make it for me; not for my belly, but to soothe my resentful heart. And as the wooden spoon moves around the bowl, grace finds her rhythm again. Round and round, pouring in then pouring out, letting all my plans and expectations fall and change.

Stirring in the honey, I realize that I like his wife better when she continues to love and serve, rather than grow bitter, weighed down by unmet expectations. I like My Honey’s Honey when she is sweet. But how do we keep our hearts tender and sweet, and words dripping with kindness?

Eat Honey Each Day!

Pleasant words are a honeycomb, Sweet to the soul and healing to the bones. (Proverbs 16:24) How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! (Psalm 119:103) Eat honey, my son, for it is good; honey from the comb is sweet to your taste. Know also that wisdom is like honey for you: If you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. (Proverbs 24:13-14)

I drizzled those verses into today's post for you... and for me. Because I'd forgotten in the busyness of my husband's travel, forgotten the blessing of his new job.  In the last minute itinerary change, forgotten our vows, "for better or worse, arriving tonight or tomorrow, till death do us part."

It took a spoon, finding it's way around the largest bowl I own, to hanker again for the taste of real, satisfying honey.  Honey to sooth the conviction: I haven't let God's sweet words heal my weary bones during the stress of our transition, amidst travels and travails.

The dot dot dot becomes suddenly clear.  

Our judgement says more about us than it does them.

Quick to fill in the blanks when we ourselves are running on empty.

I haven't... I never... I always... I want... I'm empty...

I pour the oats into the pan, patting them down, then slide them into the 400 degree oven.  As it bakes, the scent of cinnamon filling our home, I pick up God's Word.  And I read...

Because God’s Word is pleasant and sweet to my soul; And sweet sticky Wisdom doth make me whole. I sweeten with it, and am sweetened by God’s courage to persevere when I’m dry.

Another Grace-drenched mother of boys shared her father’s granola recipe with me (and the rest of the world) here. Ruth at Gracelaced, gave us “Baba’s Awesome Granola recipe”.   From the first hot crumbles straight from the oven, I knew this recipe would become my daily love offering to him.

Sometimes the offering is harder to give than other times.

There he is, home again, weeding my garden as an offering to me.

Honeysuckle vines, honey kind lips, honey baked granola,

and My Honey comes to the table to receive my offering back...

Smothered in vanilla yogurt with fresh berries.

Lemon Bars Recipe

This recipe, my mother's recipe, has been a favorite of mine since I was a young girl.  Before my hair turned from blonde to brown I knew summer tasted like lemon bars.  Now I have my own home, and my own summer-time children, making deep sense-memories as they pick their fruit straight from our lemon trees.  Buckets full of yellow in a bright green bucket from spring through mid-summer.  

 

An hour's worth of picking takes two and a half hours to squeeze!

The boys like their lemonade without pulp, so I press it through a fine sieve.  But some fresh squeezed juice remains pulpy, and I place it in a  Tupperware labeled with a piece of masking tape, upon which I write PULP.

I use this juice with pulp for my lemon bars.

My Mother-in-law's been asking for this recipe for nearly a decade now.  No fooling.  I never meant to be elusive, keep it for my own, it's just slipped my mind a dozen times.  When I remember to look I can't seem to find the thin paper with three layers of ingredients scribbled in blue ink.  But I found it this week.  Made it for her visit.  And promised I'd write it out for her.  I'm doing that now. Because today my husband's Mama leaves Southern California's lemon tree dappled hills, rich soil and salt air.  But when she arrives home in sticky sweet Texas, the land of southern hospitality, she'll find my Mama's lemon bar recipe in her inbox.

 Enjoy!

LEMON BARS

bottom layer

1/4 cup confectionary sugar

1/8 tsp salt

1 cup flour

1/2 cup cold butter, cut into pieces

(Cut cold butter into dry ingredients, then press into greased  8" square pan.  Bake 15 minutes at 350.)

middle layer

1 cup sugar

1/2 tsp. baking powder

1/8 tsp salt

2 eggs slightly beaten

2 TBS lemon juice

(Mix in a mixer on medium until slightly frothy.  Pour over bottom, shortbread layer.  Return to oven for 20 minutes.  Make sure middle layer is set, then take out to cool completely.)

top layer

2 TBS lemon juice

1 TBS butter, softened

3/4 cup confectionary sugar

(Whip together in mixer, scrapping down sides multiple times.)

Prepare:  Once the bottom two layers have cooled, cut them into 12 - 16 squares (depending on preference), drop a dollop of icing on top of each bar, and place on a serving platter.  Cool in fridge, or place platter into the freezer for an extra refreshing kick on a hot day.

Gluten Free option: Bob's Red Mill GF sugar cookie mix makes a WONDERFUL alternative for the bottom layer. However, it only requires 1/3 of the dough, so wrap the rest up tight for another time. Or roll the left over dough out to a 1/4" and use a knife to cut out lemon shaped cookies.  Double the frosting amount, then add a few drops of yellow food dye.  Lemon sugar cookies couldn't be more darling next to these lemon bars.

Child Rearing - A Continual Feast

Mother’s of young, I know how wearying it can be, this continual feasting our children do. I recognize those exhausted sighs and the droop of your shoulders when the sink is full… again. You'd be happy to miss a meal, put your feet up with a simple bowl of cereal and read a book.  Instead, your fingers get chapped from the constant scrub, scrubbing of pots under steaming water. We heat it up nearly to boiling in hopes of sanitizing germs away, but we sanitize joy away too. Down the drain. All day long it feels.  

Turning around once,

we find the sink full again.

This continual feasting is exhausting.

But might I suggest we purpose to see these continual disturbances today as invitations to change our perspective. As we open up the refrigerator and stoop to find the sandwich meat, back aching from the repetition, let’s redirect our thinking:

Each meal nourishes healthy children,

Who are growing strong.

They are maturing.

They are learning to say thank you;

You are setting them up for a life of gratitude.

They are sitting together;

And there is the Living Word on the table.

Purpose to serve joyfully, thankfully,

Do not correct all meal long,

Then nitpick as they load the dishwasher.

Do not scowl at their youthfulness,

As I've been known to do,

Then slam the Bible shut when they giggle.

Slamming Bibles, crush hearts,

Closing hearts to the Gospel.

Each meal is a training session,

Yours and theirs.

It is not just Hard Work, this continual feasting. But it is Heart Work.

We didn't comprehend the job set before us when we were growing them, birthing, even nursing, them. Now here they are eating their way through our solitude, always leaving messes and asking for more or different. Yes, they ask for different, whine for different, but even that is an invitation for perspective changing, life giving mothering.

Instead of letting their whining and complaining at the table zap the joy from your servant heart, remember what is true. Our blessed charges have afforded us another opportunity to train, disciple, and lovingly direct them.  It feels continual, perpetual, constant, and unceasing, as their swinging feet kick our shins beneath the table.  But it does end.  The sink won’t always be full and glasses won't always spill, and the quiet of your days will stretch out long before you.

New seasons will come, and memories of table times together will fade into something beautiful.  If we purpose them as things of beauty today.

Their continual feasting, dear Mamas, is your invitation to consider what you are feasting on. Not the nourishment of breakfast, lunch and dinner, but the heart within your breast. Does it feed on cheer, or grumbling? Does it nourish itself with thanksgiving, or bitterness? Does it ingest cheer and joy, or swallow hard each morsel you bring to the table?

A cheerful heart has a continual feast. (Proverbs 15:15)

There is still cleaning up and training to be done. Shoulders still ache and tears still come hot when you are up too late.  Which is why I will turn my computer off now...  To get the rest I need tonight...  That I might have the cheer I need tomorrow... To keep up with this continual feast!

Feast Well.

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Gorgonzola and Bacon Pancakes

Welcome to my Kitchen

I open wide windows, listen to Allison Krauss, make My Honey his breakfast parfait, and perfect my Monte Cristo, oozing with melted brie. Mmmm, melted brie. But don't be fooled, I have three rambunctious boys running through! Most days are chaotic, noisy and messy.

Little boys blaze through here with dirty feet,

Take in a breath; you know I like things neat.

I have them stop, makes suds, then dry their hands,

I lean to kiss each sweet, miniature man.

Before they run outside to play again.

Welcome to my Cupboard

Countless jars of lemon curd are stacked beside worn kitchen journals; busy boy hands reach in for peanut butter, making things topple onto the spices right beside.  I call them back inside to set my spices back in place.

...One day their wives will thank me.

Welcome to my Recipe Box

I'm ready to blow the top off my recipe box!  But know this, each neatly packed list of ingredients is merely a vehicle to inspire love, service, and creativity there in the heart of your home.  So get ready to wow taste buds as you mix up a batch of pure savory Love.

Recipe Card #1

GORGONZOLA & BACON PANCAKES

(Beside mixed greens tossed in maple syrup, topped with a fried egg)

Gather

(for a party of 6-8)

Pancake mix of your choice (and necessary ingredients) for 60 pancakes

2 pounds of Bacon, fried and broken into bits

16 oz. Gorgonzola cheese, crumbled

Butter for frying

16 oz. Mixed greens

Maple syrup

6-8 Eggs for frying

Berries to garnish

This is going to be SCRUMPTIOUS!  So let's get started.

Prepare

Prepare your favorite pancake mixture (I use Pamela's Gluten Free Pancake mix- adding an extra egg, and substituting vanilla almond milk for the liquid.)  Heat your griddle and slather it with butter, then pour out your first pancakes.  Quickly crumble gorgonzola and bacon bits over each bubbling cake.  Flip, cook another few minutes, then serve bacon side up.

Place a handful of greens, coated in pure maple syrup, on each plate.  Top with a fried egg, sunny-side up.  Garnish with summer berries.

Set a jar of syrup on the table.

And serve with sparkling blood orange juice.

My Honey is known by friends to be a passionate eater.  With moans and groans he affirms each culinary success.  Friends quote his enthusiastic (and creative) praise:

"That's so good I just got saved."

"I just want to rub it my hair!"

"Makes you want to slap your Mama... and dare her to get up."

And my personal favorite...

"That just Changed My Life!"

May these Gorgonzola & Bacon Pancakes absolutely CHANGE YOUR LIFE!

Come back and let me know how they turned out, if you got slapped, and who got saved!

- Special thanks to my food loving, talented photographer-friend, Tammy Labuda.