Category Archives: faith

What’s that smell???

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In the last three weeks or so, I have learned about a number of natural remedies that can reduce gas. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect as I have been cooking my own beans…kidney, white, garbanzo, black turtle, beans of every kind are often on our dinner plate.


And as a result of my latest culinary adventure, it has become abundantly obvious or should I say odious to our family that we needed to either buy stock in Beano or find another alternative and I’ll just leave it at that…


So in an effort to educate you, here they are some
of those remedies. When cooking beans:

1. Put a piece of Kombu seaweed in with the water. Remove after beans are cooked and hopefully you will be toot-less.

2. Two teaspoons of epazote herb also known as Mexican tea can increase “digestability.”

3. Asofetida is a spice often used in Indian cooking and has anti-flatulent properties…

And it is the last herbal remedy that has given me a lot to think about.

I first learned about asofetida when the Hubs and I enjoyed a dinner at an Indian couple’s home. My friend Sangini told us it was often used to reduce gas and within days I was at the local Indian store purchasing my first and last jar of this “spice.” When I asked the store clerk to tell me a little more about asofetida, he said in a thick Indian accent replete with hand gestures, “VERY STRONG! USE A LITTLE!”

As soon as I got into the car, I had the worst taste in my mouth. I hadn’t eaten lunch, hadn’t vomited (I don’t normally vomit while driving, fyi) and drove in my car baffled as to why I was overcome with a profound sense of nausea.

I ran some errands and upon returning home, I told the Hubs about my recent purchase. I was eager to try my asofetida and completely intent on heeding the nice man’s words.

But that horrid taste wouldn’t leave me alone. I twisted the top of the asofetida, put my nose up to the jar and nearly died. There aren’t enough words but I’ll try…

What does asofetida smell like? Hmmm, and I’m being very nice here, how about smelly, hairy armpits that have been soaking in rotting onions for about a year?

Why I didn’t throw out the fetid asofetida remains a mystery but instead I put it in a spice cabinet. The next day, I opened that spice cabinet, looking for something and you’ll never guess what happened…Yes, I found myself AGAIN nearly bowled over by that most utterly disgusting smell which I have since learned is also called Devil’s Dung!


Fast forward to Tuesday which is our trash day and I couldn’t take it anymore because I noticed that the entire spice cabinet was reeking. I asked the Hubs to put the asofetida in the trash for fear that soon the smell would overtake the kitchen. He’s a good hubs so he complied. Mind you, the asofetida had only been opened one time for maybe a second a few days prior. Never after that.

Tuesday morning I had to throw some other stuff out in the trash and I opened the lid. The waft of a week’s worth of trash was secondary to the hauntingly dreadful taste and flavor of asofetida! I have since learned that in the days of the American Wild West, asofetida and its sulfurous smell was once thought to be a cure for alcoholism when mixed with other spices. No surprise here!

As I have looked upon our last week, I have thought about sin. Sin is like asofetida. You don’t need a lot of it to invade aspects of your life. It stinks and smells and can be hard to chase away. It lingers and has an aftertaste. Depending on the nature of the sin, it can be overwhelming and sickening.

I have experienced spiritual asofetida and been guilty of opening a giant jar of it, if you know what I mean. The only cure for sin is Jesus. I tried many other remedies, all which fell short of the cleansing power of Christ. That doesn’t mean I don’t goof up and make mistakes but I have had victory in many areas and struggles in my life and the only reason for that is because Jesus is my hope and salvation.

Check these verses found in the Bible…

Psalm 103: 9-13 He will not always accuse, nor will he harbor his anger forever; he does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him.

Isaiah 43:25 “I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake,

and remembers your sins no more.


Hebrews 8:12 For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.

We never had the chance to use asofetida to cure gas but I maintain it was still a wise purchase. It only cost $1.50 but God used that spice to reach every one of my five senses and remind me of all the stinky stuff He has cast away into the sea of forgiveness never to be spoken of again.

On the road to redemption

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One of my favorite verses in the Bible is Lamentations 3:22-23

Because of the LORD’s
great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

I have these verses displayed in my office. As a Christmas gift, how apropos that Ike gave me an adorable small framed print of these words created by a gifted friend and artist. Click here for more details.


These words have been put in action the last four days. As parents we have experienced a humbling and tiring weekend. Phone calls, conversations and consequences have substituted the normally scheduled events. I am not complaining, it has been absolutely necessary and cleansing. It is not a weekend I care to repeat but if necessary, we will repeat but I’d rather not. Join with me now in a group prayer…Please, oh Lord, let us not repeat last weekend!


As my orange hair, freckle-face OS continued the Apology Tour on Sunday, the Hubs and Ike headed to yet another girl’s house to ask for forgiveness. I can only imagine my OS’s heart was pounding as he neared each girl’s house, walked up to the front door and shook the hands of her mom and dad preparing to apologize to the young lady he had offended.

And it was while going “there” that the Lord also placed a beautiful symbol of hope in the midst. As the Hubs drove, Ike sat with a plate of homemade, fresh from the oven, from scratch chocolate chip cookies on his lap, my youngest OS looked up to the sky and saw something unexpected. He saw a rainbow.

I didn’t see it and I love rainbows. It wasn’t meant for me. Aaron didn’t see it and he thinks rainbows are pretty cool. Apparently Aaron didn’t need a rainbow at the moment either. I believe that my OS, the one who most needed to feel hope and promise, was given this beautiful sign from the Lord.


I doubt there was an orange hair, freckle face teenage boy in the entire world on Sunday who needed a rainbow more than Ike. Some people might view this as a mere coincidence but not me. Think whatever you like but we don’t get a lot of January rainbows around these here parts. According to our Christian faith, rainbows are symbols of God’s faithfulness. God placed a rainbow in the sky as a sign of his covenant with Noah to never again destroy the earth and all living creatures by flood.

In Revelation, the last book of the Bible, John saw a rainbow around the throne in heaven.

And on a Sunday when I believe my OS needed a reminder that the Lord was with him, my OS looked up to the sky and He spoke to my baby. His child. His rainbow. Our hope.

Amen


Sew messy

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For the last six weeks, I have been a mad seamstress. Not mad as in angry but mad as in crazy, frazzled and ridiculously blessed. As of this post, I will have made almost 70 aprons for Christmas. Since I am the mama of three OS, I have used nearly half a football field worth of material. I have sewn aprons for people who aren’t even related to me, people who would not feel morally indebted to purchase something made by my hands.

Beyond my wildest expectations, the Lord has spoken to my heart deeply and when I have time, I wish to share with you my personal history as it relates to aprons. For me, aprons are more than an “outer garment one uses to primarily cover the front of the body.” But alas, let me say that I am nearly without words to describe the depth of happiness and fulfillment it has brought me to make them for others including some of you who will read this post.


If there is a downside, it’s that my house has been a wreck. Seriously. Sew messy. And it seems as if there hasn’t been a room in my house where the Fabric Monster hasn’t touched. Threads, pins, remnants have invaded this once fairly tidy domicile.
Since I do not have a craft room, my kitchen has served as the Command Center for this operation. One evening I took a few pictures to offer you a glimpse of the vantage point from my sewing machine. It looked worse at other times but I didn’t have the courage to capture the chaos.


To me, it looks like one of those photos you’d see in an I-Spy book. “I spy with my little eye an orange dinosaur…” (I made dinosaur aprons) or “I spy with my little eye a Christmas ornament in a box…” (I personalized an ornament for a friend). We have a beautiful new room outside of our kitchen and to the Hubs’ chagrin, the ironing board became a new piece of furniture. It didn’t exactly match with the existing decor but I’ve had no choice.


And then there’s Tess. Tess is the name of my dress form. When my oldest OS returned home from West Point for Christmas Break, I asked him if he had met Tess. He said no and when I introduced them to each other, he told me I was seriously freaking him out.

At this moment, our house is less cluttered as my apron making frenzy has calmed down. I am proud of myself for working hard and so happy to being slightly relaxed until Wednesday…aka Christmas Cookie Making Time!

Merry CHRISTmas!

Sew not happening

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Ok, I’m sitting here watching the Army/Navy game. I am so not an athletic person but this is one game where I attempt to pay attention in the warm comfort of my home. I find myself crying at nearly every military commercial the television station runs.


And I’m making aprons. From about 5 in the morning, my little sewing machine is stitching away.

I pride myself on raising three godly OS who love Jesus and remember to put the toilet seat down after using it. My OS can cook, do laundry and iron. Not joyfully, mind you but nonetheless, they are developing into capable, competent men.

But apparently they have limits and they aren’t going to budge.

Don’t ask me why but I was cutting fabric to make some snake aprons (a future blog post to be sure) and I blithely ask my middle OS and my orange-haired, freckle faced OS a question which will live in infamy…

“Do you think that you guys would ever be interested in learning how to sew?” I inquire.

Aaron squirms and suddenly announces an urgent need to use the bathroom.

And without forethought or hesitation, with nary a consideration about how his precious mother might feel, my 13 year old Ike states, “I’d rather be castrated!”


Allrighty then, I guess that closes that subject! I didn’t think either one of them would be interested but it’s been confirmed, it ain’t happening.

My oldest OS is applying for some exciting overseas opportunities with West Point. They would take him far, far from home and be ridiculously exciting.

But then I had an idea…I told him that I was pretty sure there was going to be an exciting opportunity aka AIAD here in our neck of the woods. And you know what he said,

“Yeah but I heard it involves aprons so I’m not interested!”


How do you like that? Hmphf!

Boys will be boys. I will sew solo, get it?

Sew sweet

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“OUCH!” the Hubs screamed from upstairs. I wondered what in the world had happened and when he told me that he stubbed his toe, I must admit, I shrugged it off. Big whoop, everyone has stubbed a toe and it hurts like mess but seriously, it’s NO big deal.


Besides I was busy sewing my aprons for unknown people for an unknown purpose and if he wasn’t incapacitated, I had mounds of material awaiting construction.

However as the morning lingered, the Hubs continued to complain about his stubbed toe. When he eventually showed it to me, it was ghastly! Dark shades of red and purple melted together on his little middle toe, ew! It didn’t look stubbed, it looked mangled! Talk about gee-ross.

So how do you know you married a good man? When your hubs traipses your handmade aprons downtown with a broken toe and tries to sell them at local stores. That’s how you know you are loved.


The Hubs has successfully passed many “tests,” – last year when I broke my foot, he proved his love for me and then there are scores of other times that are none of your beeswax when he has shown me sacrificial, undeserved love.

How many aprons did he sell? I can hear you wondering. He sold nada. Nothing. Zilch. They didn’t kick him, his fractured phalange of the foot along with my aprons out of the stores, thank the Lord! Nor did they say they would never, ever consider selling such rubbish! But did it matter to me? Heck, no!


For me it’s the humbling image of a man who believed in me enough in me that despite his discomfort, was willing to limp down the sidewalk with my aprons in hopes that he could sell them for me.

Lemme tell ya, making these aprons has turned into a spiritual endeavor. I have so much to learn and tell, isn’t it amazing how God can use the simplest things to teach us?

The idea of my sweet hubs limping through our quaint downtown trying to sell his wife’s wares is seriously a better gift than if he had sold every last one.

Sew blessed

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For nearly eight years I had a wonderful part-time job. I poured my soul into the position and treasured every experience, from the funniest moment with a teenager to the most heartbreaking. Talking to young people about sensitive subjects, hearing their own stories often left me with little to give to my own precious family.


This summer the Lord saw it fit to have me step away from that job which came as both a relief and a loss. It was something I was good at and gave me something exciting to do. I stepped into a mission field of sorts and then one day, I didn’t.

With a very low desire to step back into the work world and with a hubs who supported me staying at home, I have enjoyed days caring for my family. I have also loved looking at my calendar and seeing that there is nothing I absolutely have to do. That doesn’t mean I’ve been lazy, it just means I haven’t had the usual constraints on what, when and how I do certain things.

One of my passions is sewing. And I love cooking. So one day I felt a tug in my heart to combine the two. Here is a simple mathematical equation of my idea. It’s a simple math equation because I can’t do any complicated math. I’m a word girl, thank you very much.

Cooking + sewing = aprons

About three weeks ago I ran into a friend at the Whole Foods and I told her about me making aprons. She makes adorable Christmas ornaments so it wasn’t just a random comment that didn’t make sense, as if that has ever stopped me. That’s when she suggested I participate in our church’s Christmas craft party and try to sell my little aprons. My heart skipped a beat as I rushed through the checkout aisle ready to get home and sew my brains out.


I came home eager to tell the Hubs about this new project. I have a ridiculous amount of fabric accumulating in our room so it wasn’t going to be difficult to produce many aprons. I knew he would be happy to see some fabric exiting our house instead of coming into our home Often I have wondered how I was going to get rid of it and if I would ever have the talent to make something people might like enough to buy.

My Project Runway sewing machine has been very busy as I have designed my own aprons not using a pattern but fashioning them based on qualities I have liked in several of my fave aprons I use regularly.

Many times I have spoken with the Lord. While making these aprons for imaginary people, I have confided in Him. “Lord, what if no one wants my aprons? What if I can’t sell any?” As I awaited His voice, I heard Him tell me, “Just sew.”


Last Sunday was the day of the Christmas craft party. I ironed each one and hung it on a rack. You would have thought I was preparing for a fashion show in New York City! There were moments when I actually felt slightly like a designer but not in an arrogant way, I assure you!

I arrived at the lady’s home to get my display arranged. I lugged in a full-length mirror, 20 aprons and several samples of material suggesting other aprons I could make and waited with the other crafty ladies for people to arrive. It is a vulnerable feeling to have people look at your wares. Some walk by with nary a glance, others admire and window shop, it is strange standing in front of something you have made wondering if anyone will like it enough to buy. Like my previous job, I poured my heart out on each little apron. If anyone bought one, they were going to be taking home a little part of me.

And guess what? To my delight I sold 18 aprons! I sold 12 directly at the party and have paid orders for six more. They liked my aprons! As I returned home with more money than when I had left (and that is a rarity, folks!), I remembered the words the Lord had placed in my heart. “Just sew.” He told me to leave the results to Him and in my obedience, the Lord blessed my family and me.

I can’t wait to tell you more about aprons. Remind me to share with you something about the Hubs, a broken toe and aprons. And remind me to tell you about my mom and aprons, too. Aprons and Soldiers too. Stay tuned, dear friends!




Redemption para Senor Taco Cabesa (Redemption by Mr. Taco Head)

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It’s only taken 10 months for there to be redemption in my house. Say what??? I’m talking about coupon redemption, folks; we found redemption of the spiritual sort individually quite some time ago, which by the way, is a VERY good thing!

On my birthday, which happens to be January 27th so be sure to mark it down, my middle OS gave me a coupon for him to make dinner for the family. I read the fine print, “this coupon is a legal voucher for a complete meal on any non-school day. This must be presented to the giver before 3:00 on that day or before that day. The only other rule is that you must enjoy your meal and have a nice time doing whatever it is that you do while you are not cooking.” Isn’t that cool?

This morning I announced/asked Aaron if he could make dinner tonight. With only a momentary hesitation, he agreed.

Around 6pm, my middle OS began to make turkey tacos. He donned the family chef’s hat, tied the apron around his trim waist and set to work. I worked on some sewing projects and snapped pics to capture every moment as he unabashedly posed for the camera not fully realizing the apron he actually had selected. Take a minute and you’ll see what I mean…


Aaron was wearing a reversible apron I made in the summer. I chuckled seeing Aaron chopping onions, browning the turkey meat with the girly side of the apron in full view.

I think my OS forgot that the other side of the apron has something much more to his liking. Guitars. Aaron LOVES guitars and music possibly more than fashion. As soon as I pointed out which side he was wearing and he realized I had the pictures to prove it, Aaron reversed to the more manly print.

How interesting it was for me to see Aaron frantically running around the kitchen trying to get everything ready at the same time. HALLO~Welcome to my world! Moms, you know exactly what I’m talking about! Sometimes it’s so crazy trying to put food on the table. I believe Aaron had an epiphany tonight and we shall see how long that lasts. The aroma filling the house was quite delicious and although it would make a funnier post to say the meal was a flop, that would be a lie. Y’all, my boy can throw down! Tonight was husband training at its finest. Excuse me while I take a bow…


The true test of a good meal in our home is silence. If people aren’t talking while eating, you know it’s good. Take, for example, my angel food cake. You could have heard a crumb drop. And if a crumb had dropped, you would have heard someone licking it up! Tonight’s turkey tacos produced only the sound of crunching. In other words, we enjoyed mealtime.


I’m so glad I found redemption today and cashed in on my dinner coupon. In between bites, I bestowed upon Aaron a new nickname, thanks to a scrumptious meal, he is now crowned Senor Taco Cabesa!

Bus driver, move that bus!

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The clock ticked away and the vision of Aaron’s room materialized. Surveying the house, I began collecting items that matched the room decor. I just love “shopping” in my own house for treasures! So does the Hubs!


With Ike and the Hubs essentially done with painting, my job began. I got to do the fun stuff. The poster of Aaron’s favorite
music group Switchfoot was placed in a frame, a vast improvement from the previous method of display, plastic tacks stuck on the wall. I assembled photos of Aaron’s mission trip to Guatemala and put them in another frame. On his dresser, I placed a cool percussion instrument I had given him from El Salvador. We have an old globe which looked perfect in his room. A horribly ugly clay vase I made in middle school
surprisingly matched in Aaron’s new room. And Aaron’s cherished photo of him and his dad when he was a little boy, found a prominent place on a wall.

This picture is one Aaron used to carry around whenever the Hubs was angry at him and Aaron was feeling guilty. All these little touches gave the room a cozy feel.

Isaac suggested painting a kitchen stool for his brother’s room. The stool had been taking space in the garage and with a few coats of spray paint, Isaac’s ingenuity led to Aaron having an awesome place to sit while playing his guitar.

The Hubs did one more thing before Aaron arrived home. Using a special paint, Mark made a chalkboard on his wall. We knew he would love that extra touch.


And then there was the coffee cup. I can’t tell you how many times my OS has told me how he loves that nubby, bohemian mug. It was incredible how Aaron’s favorite coffee cup perfectly matched his room! I think it served as the inspiration to the entire room. The thought of my OS sitting in his room, having a candle lit, sipping on some Peruvian coffee served in the world’s best coffee cup doing his homework, man, if that ain’t the coolest thing! I was so eager for him to get home to see the drastic change!


As we toiled away on this project, I seriously thought about God. Without trying to be overly spiritual, I feel that my OS’s room was a perfect representation of what the Lord did for me, for my family, even for you…

Aaron didn’t do anything special to merit a drastic room change. And we didn’t spend a fortune on his room. We probably spent about $150 to do everything. Yeah, his room had been a mess but something overtook my desire to merely clean the room. It was love. Aaron didn’t get straight A’s, or accomplish some magnificent feat. We did it because we loved him. Plain and simple. I felt like we totally poured ourselves out for Aaron. Doing this made me think about Jesus and what He did for someone as unworthy as myself.

Aaron knew we were going to be decorating his room but he had NO idea we were going full-out for him. “Wow, that’s a whole lot better than I would have done!” Aaron said as he looked around at the freshly painted walls, his treasured guitars secured to the walls, all the sweeping changes.


This Bible verse ran through my mind as we unveiled the room to Aaron for the first time, “Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory…” Ephesians 4:20-21

Tell me what you think about our Extreme Makeover!

One of those days

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I called my sister Denise last week and the sounds of one of my adorable nephews made our conversation brief. Two year old Josiah was wailing, the agony so loud you would have thought his arm was being amputated without anesthesia.


“Wow,” I thought to myself as I hung up the phone. “Am I glad those days are over!” A twinge of pity and relief waft over me as I went along my merry way.

No sooner had I taken that trip down Memory Lane when I found myself metaphorically speaking, driving down that
once familiar road. Only I wasn’t with a toddler but with my orange haired, freckle-faced nearly 13 year old OS. At the end of the day, as I tucked Isaac into bed, I was glad the day was over. Tears streamed down my face as I prayed over my boy. I was as weary as I was when he was a feisty toddler.


I’m not complaining, it’s just I guess I was a little surprised to have one of “those” days. I can never give up on raising my OS, even on days when I feel like a failure. I must be resolute in all things. Despite the drama of the day, I was grateful because I recognized that we still have more work to do in the lives of our OS. Soon I will be the mama of three teenage sons. The job of mother gets easier on some level but more difficult on others.

I don’t really consider myself a very strong person, physically or mentally but this I know with all my heart. I will never give up on this job. On the days where there is boy drama (and there is boy drama) or bad grades or poor choices, I know where my strength comes from.


Psalm 28:7

The LORD is my strength and my shield;
my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.
My heart leaps for joy
and I will give thanks to him in song.

When your son is a Soldier…

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I like being a mama. Of all the titles I have acquired in my life, the title of mother is among my most treasured. Any derivation of mother, be it madre (what my oldest OS calls me), mama (what my middle OS calls me) or mommy (what my orange haired, freckle-face OS used to call me) those names are like a song to my ears.

I am the mama of a soccer player/ basketball player (Ike) and the mama of a thespian/10th senator in student government (Aaron) and the mama of a West Point cadet and Soldier (Nate).
 
And with each acquisition of a new title, I am attuned to things which pertain to that OS. Especially the latter. As soon as my OS was accepted into West Point, my ears were keen to anything relating to West Point, the Army and New York. I admit I hardly gave a passing thought to those things previously. Those days are gone. I listen to news about the Army, Iraq, the Middle East and I have read two books about Afghanistan.

Yesterday as I was driving to a speaking engagement to MOPS (Mothers of Pre–Schoolers), I heard some worrisome news about New York City. If I were a doberman, my pointy ears would have perked up. New York City. Terrorists. Bombs in backpacks. Those words get my attention. The city is on a heightened state of alert. Thus so am I. I try to remain calm and not let fear overtake me.
 
Last night Nate and I had a conversation I’m sure we’re bound to have many times in the future. Knowing that he has some important plans in New York City this weekend, I did what any good mama of a Soldier would do. I suggested he cancel his plans and opt for a safer time on post. I also stated that not only did I think he should stay on post but his grandma concurred..

His reply, “Are you serious?” I think a part of him wanted to laugh at our outrageous request.
 
I had readied a response. “Nate, look, this is my job. I’m supposed to tell you that I’m concerned about you. I’m supposed to ask you to be safe. I already knew your answer before I asked my question but I just had to ask. I say my things and you say yours, that’s how it works.”

You can’t tell a Soldier not to go somewhere and expect him to listen to you because it might be dangerous but hey, it can’t hurt to try, right? RIGHT??? 

 I have asked moms I know to pray for safety in NYC especially on Saturday. Not just for my OS but for everyone in that city. All I know is that I will be happy when I hear my OS’s voice on Saturday evening. May it be so, O Lord.