Ella's Big Week

Ella, 7, had a big week as she lost her first top front tooth (isn't she lovely?) and proved herself to be stellar "buddy" material after successfully changing Sarge's diapers and getting him dressed. It's a beautiful thing from the Lord to have daughters who delight in caring for babies, who see these tiny ones as gifts from His hand, who will often reply, when asked to do something, "But I'm holding a baby." (Because we all know that trumps everything.)

It looks like Sarge is pretty happy, too.

Seven Things

I just got home from taking Ink to have his four wisdom teeth removed. Praise God all went well with the procedure. Now we're dealing with the painful part--the recovery. A few things observed:

1) Four teeth removed at one time, though much less of an ordeal in the long run, still stinks.

2) When you're part of a large family and have your wisdom teeth removed, you have an audience for everything. Removing gauze. First bites of food. First sips of drink. And the Little People who make up that audience like to give a play by play of your behavior and your facial expressions, as they also declare that they don't want to go through what you're going through, but they'd love some of your Gatorade and ice cream.

3) For the first and probably last time, I controlled the iPod on the way home.

4) Ink's surgeon was a cool guy, even putting on Ink's driving cap BEFORE he put on the ice pack.

5) A mother never gets used to seeing her child in pain, no matter how old that child is.

6) "Oh, Mom," I told my mother, "he looks pitiful." Ink managed to get out something akin to "Humph."

7) Ink's passion for books runs deep. His first concern when we started driving home (and he's still a bit out of it)? Where I put his book.

Please pray God would give us all thankful hearts, and that He would spare Ink complications, providing quick healing.

With love,
Trisha

Wait! That's Part of My Heart You're Takin' to Texas!

Almost 15 years ago we moved to this desert land. That was the last time I had to leave a bosom friend behind. You know. The kind of friend with whom you don't need words, with whom you feel completely safe.

My dear friend gave me a Mary Englebreit mug when we parted. It shows one girl pulling the pigtails of another and says, "Pals." I still drink from that cup, and I never fail to think of my friend. Even now when we see each other, perhaps once every several years, it's as though we've never been apart.

Not even two years ago, God graciously gave me another friend like this. Our hearts were connected through our blogs way before she stood at my front door, before we sat on my couch together and cried over God's providence in moving her from Texas to NM. From the start, she blessed me in word and deed. I found I could trust her, and after having dealt with the very painful ending of some friendships, her kindness and steadfastness ministered so sweetly to my heart.

When I returned home from my Dad's funeral in Virginia, I was greeted by flowers from my sweet Tami. She even brought groceries over. Yes. She's THAT kind of friend. She's seen me through my Dad's death, my cousin's death, a miscarriage, church challenges, and a pregnancy and birth.

She's walked on my dirty carpet and sat on my worn couch. She's feasted in my cramped dining room and has seen my bedroom, with its piles of books and stacks of stuff.

She knows my fears. My hopes. My struggles. My longings.

She's loved on my children and laughed with them. She even LIKES them. And I know if something happened to me and my Mountain Man, she'd care for our children and love them like her own. (After the initial panic of such an increase in family size, of course.)

And her family? How much do we love them? Well, we'd vacation with them in the same house in a heartbeat. You know that's love. Her children warm my heart and her husband and Mountain Man get along together so well. Yes, my Mountain Man and our children will feel the emptiness, too.

Tami and I are classic opposites. She's a dark-eyed and dark-haired beauty, and I'm not. She was born organized, and I fight to be so to this very day. She'll eat anything except fish, and I'll eat fish and very few other things.

She's the kind of gal whose home is always spotless. Mine? Well, not so much. She's a pro at technology, having her lists on an iPad or phone, while I prefer good 'ol pad and paper. She's an extrovert with lots of friends. I'm an introvert who cautiously guards the entrance to my heart.

She balances me out, tells me like it is, points me to Jesus, over and over. And she says I do the same for her. This is the bond that hold us together, our love for Jesus, our being His hands and feet to each other and cheering each other on and picking each other up.

She's seen me at my worst and loves me anyway. She feasts daily on God's grace, so that grace spills over to me. Perhaps one of the biggest ways she's poured out this grace on me is enduring my limited availability.

Friendship with a mom of many is often different. I lost a friend once because she couldn't understand my delay in responding to an e-mail. This Mama of 9 just isn't  as available for girlfriend get-togethers. I'm not as apt to talk on the phone for extended periods of time. I'm not always able to be there when needed. In fact I know I let Tami down as she spent her first months here trying to adjust. But she continued to love me faithfully anyway.

Tonight we'll break bread together for the last time for some time. I'm piling on the waterproof mascara and will try my best not to embarrass anyone. But, my heart is stuck on my sleeve, and when Tami walks out the door tonight, a piece of my heart will go with her.

Yes, tomorrow, part of my heart will be in Texas. Not because I know and love that state, but rather because the friend who knows me, and yet, still loves me so steadfastly (which is so amazing to me!), who shines so brightly with the love of Jesus, will be there.

Of course my advice to you if you have a friend like this is to hug her real tight the next time you see her, let her know what a blessing she is, and make time to have that lunch date...real soon.

With love,
Trisha

How to Judge a Preacher

"May I beg you carefully to judge every preacher, not by his gifts, not by his elocutionary powers, not by his status in society, not by the respectability of his congregation, not by the prettiness of his church, but by this--does he preach the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation?"
~C. H. Spurgeon

6 Months

Six months old.

That's what Elijah is today.

He's not consistently rolling over, and the little man can't sit up by himself. In other words, he's not conforming to those milestone standards devised by childless pediatricians.

Now if he were my first baby, I would have already called the doctor and thumbed through baby books and searched the internet. I would have imagined one thousand reasons as to why he wasn't progressing like "normal."  Instead, I've only considered a few.

This chunky-hunk-of-love seems to be my easiest baby of all. He falls asleep on his own. He only cries when he's tired or hungry or, on rare occasions, when he wants to be held (rare because he's usually being held).

He eats well and sleeps well. He's happy.

So my first thought for his "delay" is simply that God is being kind to me, you know, stretching out what could be my final moments of this season of motherhood. When you're a brand new Mama, you can't wait to watch the show unfold before your eyes. But, when you've been there a few times, or you're keenly aware you might not be there again, you're delighted to take things slowly.

My Mom still hasn't held this little guy, but I'm hoping and praying that will change in April. In the meantime, I'm thankful for every grin and laugh and coo and diaper change and....

And I love that his siblings are still crazy about him.

Happy 6 months, Sarge!

The day after the birth (of my granddaughter) I was in the grocery store getting some vegetables and grains for the family. There were several mothers shopping up and down the aisles with young children in tow--many of them snarling and snapping at the over-lively, curiosity-filled, wildly energetic kids. I wanted to grab the mothers, embrace them, tell them, "Do you realize what you have done? You have given birth to a child, a child--this miracle, this wonder, this glory."
~Eugene Peterson


With love,
Trisha

Yielding to the Chisel

God uses suffering to purge sin from our lives, strengthen our commitment to Him, force us to depend on grace, bind us together with other believers, produce discernment, foster sensitivity, discipline our minds, spend our time wisely, stretch our hope, cause us to know Christ better, make us long for truth, lead us to repentance of sin, teach us to give thanks in times of sorrow, increase faith, and strengthen character. It is a beautiful image!

And it's an image like no other. When Christ is unveiled in me, it's a unique sculpture. It's what patience, self-control, endurance, gentleness, kindness, as well as a healthy hatred of sin, looks like on "Joni." That's different than the way sensitivity and self-control look on my husband or anyone else. My particular affliction is divinely hand-tailored expressly for me. Nobody has to suffer "transversal spinal lesion at the fourth-fifth cervical" exactly as I did to be conformed to His image.

Yielding to the chisel is "learning obedience from what we suffer." Our circumstances don't change; we change. The "who" of who we are is transformed, like a form unfolding, into His likeness with ever-increasing glory. "And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit" (2 Corinthians 3:16-18).

I cannot afford to focus on the hammer and chisel. I cannot look around me and bemoan what God is chipping away.
~Joni Eareckson Tada, When God Weeps

Thankful Thursday-This is My Purpose

God has blessed me in amazing ways this week. He's stretching me and refining me and moving me to choose to do what honors him regardless of my feelings. The blessing in all of that is that eventually the feelings do come...but often the obedience must come first. 

I'm especially grateful to those who took the time to let me know they're praying for me. I can tell, and I thank you over and over! I received a precious e-mail this past week from a woman I've never heard from before but who reads here. Her kind words were such a gift from the LORD, and I praise Him for the perfect ways He moves the body of Christ to encourage one another.

I've been waiting for years for the Extreme Home Makeover crew to show up at our door. You know, "Well, Poff Family, a neighbor tipped us off to the fact that you might be able to use a bit more room for that delightful family of yours." But, since the show has been canceled, I guess we'll have to settle for doing some things ourselves. 

So, crazy woman that I am, I decided to start painting our kitchen cabinets. It's a SLOW process, but it's coming along. Guess what the name of the paint is? SUGAR  and CREAM. I know. It's perfect for me.

And tomorrow we start the insane task of installing laminate wood flooring in a couple of rooms. The difficult part is figuring out where to put two rooms' worth of stuff while putting flooring down. One truly doesn't know the weight of her book collection until she has to move it from here to there and back again. :)

I praise God for the work He's doing in me and for His infinite patience.

I'm thankful for the snow He gave us this week. How greatly we needed the moisture!

I'm thankful for the joy of gathering with ladies from my church for prayer and for the way the Lord knits our hearts together during these special times.

I'm thankful for Luke's first attempt at soap carving...a lovely heart that he gave to me.

I'm thankful for sweet birthday celebrations and good books and happy faces.

I'm thankful God made me to glorify Him and to enjoy Him forever.

"It is not worth while to live for any other purpose than to declare the works of God, for His honour and the encouragement of others to serve Him and trust in Him."
~Matthew Henry

With love,
Trisha

Soft Almond Sugar Cookies

If you can eat only one of these, you have amazing self-control. These turned out just as described, although I did have to bake the later batches a bit longer (in spite of the warning not to exceed 8 minutes). No coarse sugar to roll them in? That's ok. I didn't have any, either, so I just used granulated sugar, and they still tasted delicious!

Soft Almond Sugar Cookies

1 1/2 c white sugar

2/3 c cold butter 

2/3 c shortening (room temp)

2 eggs

2 tsp almond extract

2 3/4 c cake flour

1 c all purpose flour

1 T cornstarch

2 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp salt

sugar in the raw 

Preheat oven to 350 degrees and prepare baking sheet.

Cream sugar, butter and shortening.Stir in eggs and almond extract.Combine flour, cornstarch, baking powder and salt and add to butter/egg mixture.Use electric mixer to ensure dough is thoroughly combined.

Chill dough in fridge for 30 minutes.

Roll 2 tsp of dough into a ball and roll in raw sugar.  Place on prepared pan.

Bake cookies for 7 minutes.  Remove from oven and gently press rounded tops of cookies flat with the back of a spoon while the cookies are still warm and pliable.The cornstarch will keep the dough from spreading,so this step just makes them look better!

Return remaining dough to fridge in between baking each batch.

Allow to cool on pan for 1 minute.  

Remove to cooling rack. Allow to cool completely.

~DO NOT bake longer than 8 minutes!!  They may seem under-baked, but when they cool they will firm up.

You can find the original recipe with a printable option at Confections From the Cody Kitchen.

Misplaced Expectations

For He is the only one from Whom we can never expect too much, and yet, He is often the only One from Whom we expect so little. How well our God provides and satisfies, to overflowing!

One great secret of unhappiness is the habit of indulging in exaggerated expectations. From money, from marriage, from business, from houses, from children, from worldly honors, from political success—people are constantly expecting what they never find—and the great majority die disappointed. Happy is he who has learned to say at all times, " My soul, waits only upon God—my expectation is from Him" (Psalm 62:5).
~J.C. Ryle