Stewardship: Part I "Nothin' Says Lovin' Like Somethin' From the Oven"

I have been preparing a workshop for young couple on stewardship, after realizing how few young people know how to cook.  Sure, they can make macaroni and cheese from a box, or drop ramen noodles into boiling water, and they can make sandwiches, BUT very few know how to prepare a meal beyond removing the contents from a fast food restaurant's sack and setting it on the table.

I know of a woman in town who built a new house and wanted to omit the kitchen!  She didn't cook and didn't want to "waste" the floor space.  All she needed (in her opinion) was a sink, a refrigerator and a microwave.  Her family ate cold cereal, sandwiches or take-out.  She simply didn't cook, and neither did her husband.  Is it any wonder her son loved to come to our family dinners?   As a side note: her contractor convinced her to include a kitchen because he realized no one would buy a house without a kitchen! So, I guess it's not just young people who don't know how to cook. 

As I've mentioned before, I really didn't know how to cook before Marlin and I got married.  I had a few simple recipes I could follow, but preparing an entire meal was beyond me.  We did not eat out, however.  I learned to cook.  Eating out was not handy as we live ten miles from town, and it was expensive.  Eating out was a special treat and we indulged ourselves once or twice a month.  I know of several families who eat out more than they eat in!

But, what about young people?  Why don't they know how to cook?  Their parents aren't teaching them and neither are the schools.  When I was in school, we had Home Economics classes beginning in seventh or eighth grade.  Truth be told, I really didn't learn how to cook there.  I got some exposure to cooking, but most of the time we messed around.  I remember baking with a group of three other students.  We were to prepare a cake - from a mix - and divide the steps so everyone was participating.  One of us should have kept track of who was taking care of which step... The cake mix called for 1/3 cup of oil.  Three of us choose to claim that step as ours.  When the cake was finished, we were required to serve it to the class.  As soon as the cake pieces were placed on the paper towels we used instead of plates, the oil soaked the paper towels!  No one would eat the cake - imagine that! - but the teacher made the four of us eat our pieces!  Talk about disgusting.

Home Economics did serve a purpose.  I learned to get all of my ingredients ready before I started preparing a recipe.  I learned how to measure dry and wet ingredients correctly - now I'm not so rigid with the measuring - but it was good to learn the correct way.  I learned that if you don't pay attention, you can add the same ingredient more than once, and that is not a good thing.

I also learned a little about cooking from 4-H when I was in grade school.  I only participated a couple of years in 4-H, but I do remember learning how to crack eggs.  Actually, what I remember is my friend, Penny, dropping an egg on the 4-H leader's kitchen floor.  No big deal, right?  It happens from time to time to everyone.  The dropping of the egg didn't leave an impression on me, what left the impression was the leader calling her cat to lick it up!  We didn't have cats in the house, and I knew my mother would not approve!  That being said, I then thought watching an animal lick up food from the kitchen floor was the coolest thing I'd ever seen and I accidentally dropped an egg.  Or was it two?

Anyway, I knew cooking and baking were important skills to have.  My mother didn't want me in the kitchen (in her defense, it was a really small kitchen), so I didn't learn as much as I should have from her.  BUT, she did tell me something before I got married that left an indelible impression: "There are two sure-fire ways to make a man happy, and one of them is cooking."  If you want a happy husband, learn to cook.

Incidentally, I have told several young woman my mother's theory about the two things it takes to make a man happy.  They asked their husbands about the validity of that statement, and have reported back to me.  My mother was right.  Of course, I already knew that.  I've been married almost thirty years!

Actually, cooking and baking are acts of love.  Don't believe me?  Ask the men in your life and the women, because if both of you are working outside the home, both of you need to be sharing in the responsibilities at home.  And, the time you spend together in the kitchen is precious. Rarely, are your kids going to interrupt a conversations in the kitchen to insist you allow them to help!  It's a great time for private conversations and flirting, don't forget the flirting! 

But, my focus is primarily on women.  If you take the time to prepare a meal for your husband, he is going to appreciate not only the time and effort you put into the meal, he's going to appreciate the fact that you can put your money to better use.  Why spend $40 on pizza for the family when you can make it for less than $10?  Why spend $40, or more, at a restaurant?  In the time it takes to drive to the restaurant, wait for a table, wait for someone to take your order, wait for the food, eat and then drive home, you could have prepared a meal and saved yourself $30.  Big deal, right?  You're not going to miss that $30 and it's easy and you're tired at the end of the day.  That thirty dollars you could save represents the house you'd like to buy, but can't because you still don't have enough for the down payment.  That thirty dollars represents a new washing machine or dryer, maybe a new car.  How many times a week do you eat out?  What about eating out during the day, on your lunch hour?  That six or seven dollars you spend, is another thirty or thirty-five dollars a week.

Think about what you want for your family.  Is eating out four times a week more important than a nice family vacation?  Is it more important than a more reliable mode of transportation? 

Good stewardship means managing your finances wisely.  Develop a plan with your spouse and follow through.  Respect the hard work each of you do away from home and use those paychecks wisely by investing in your future - not fast food!

All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty (Proverbs 14:23)

If your group would like an outline of my presentation on stewardship, let me know.  Focusing on three areas of stewardship (time, money and resources), the presentation with leave you with food for thought - and food!  I'd love to come sahre my thoughts and the biblical principles behind them.

Blessings to your and yours,
Debbie

My Perception of God: From Childhood to Parenthood

As a child, I remember trying to visualize God.  I had seen pictures of Jesus in the New Testament I carried to Sunday School each week, but I wanted to have an image of God.  I came up with an original mental picture.  I visualized a cast iron skillet, a HUGE cast iron skillet, and within that skillet was the world's population.  In my imagination, I saw God watching all of us in the skillet.  Occasionally, he would put a lid on the skillet and walk away to do other things, but he would always come back, remove the lid and begin observing us.  Until recently, I hadn't thought about this image.  Now, I wonder if I had the world's population in the skillet because I needed to believe that God was able to keep up contained.  Or perhaps, I needed to believe that he was able to put a lid on us, so he could take care of his "heavenly" business.  I think that because at the age of eight or nine, I had so little control over my life and the decisions that were made concerning my life, I needed to know that God had everything under control.  That even if he had to walk away for a few minutes, he'd come right back, lift the lid and start tending to us.  I'd seen my mother start a meal in the cast iron skillet, watch the food for awhile and then walk away to take care of something else; she always came back to the skillet before anything burned.  She was seemingly able to take care of all things at all times.  It seems logical to me that this is where my early idea of God's role took root.  I understood him to be omnipresent, even though it would be years before I became familiar with that term.

As a teenager, I saw God as a puppeteer.  He created us and he controlled us.  He knew what we were going to do before we did it.  He manipulated us. How, you ask?  I don't know.  I was a teenager.  We think everyone is trying to manipulate us at that age, don't we?                                                                                    I wanted to be free from the puppeteer's strings.  I wanted to make my own decisions, and I didn't want God to know what I was going to do before I did.  The omniscience of God was not comforting to be, it was disconcerting.  I didn't want my parents, my teachers, or anyone else telling me what to do and I certainly did not want them to say, "I told you so,"  when I made a bad choice. 

As a freshman in college, I began to understand that God was omnipotent.  I also learned that just because God has the ability to do whatever he wills, doesn't mean he will do what I would have him do.  My first experience with the death of a teenager came in my freshman year.  A classmate's Jeep was struck by a drunk driver and as several of us prayed for his healing, we received a call telling us Todd had died at the hospital.  I was angry with God.  If he truly had the ability to do all things, why wouldn't he heal Todd, an innocent victim?  And, if he wouldn't heal Todd, why was I to believe I should bother praying about lesser things?  If I couldn't count on God to listen to my requests and grant them, why bother?  He was going to do, what he was going to do, right?

I don't think I got an accurate picture of God, until I became a parent. 

I learned that I can't always say "yes" to the requests my children make.  Some of those requests could result in harm, even though my children might not see the danger at the time.  I learned that while human behavior is predictable, my children are not always going to listen to my advice. 

I learned that I can't always say "no" to my children.  Sometimes, they have to learn for themselves that the people they have chosen as friends or boy/girl friends are indeed bad choices.  And, as a parent, I learned that while my children might believe that I could be everywhere and see everything (of course, that ends at about age eight), I knew that I could not.

When did I put it all together?  I'm not sure. I know that God has not thrown us into a frying pan to keep us contained and I know that God is not manipulating us like a master puppeteer. What I do know is this: God doesn't walk away from us.  He is present in all situations and while he knows what we are going to do before we do it, he has given us free will - the ability to make wrong choices! 

I am now content in the knowledge that my God is omnipotent, onmiscient and omnipresent.  He's got everything under control, even when we don't believe that could possibly be the case. 

"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." Isaiah 40:28

Here I Am Lord Use Me - But Only Under My Conditions

I have a basic plan in mind as I begin each day.  Most days, that plan is altered, and I'm okay with that.  But, I do like to start with a plan.  Today was no exception.  I had a plan.  The plan was altered, and now so is my immediate future.

I started the day with a quick visit to the doctor, nothing out of the ordinary, a routine visit.  On my way home, I learned I needed to get a prescription from my mother-in-law's oncologist.  The drive is fairly long and as I travelled I began to pray for strength.  As I prayed, I began to outline a presentation for women.  "Here I am God, Use Me." 

The premise would be that we often tell God we are available to do His will, but then we add our own stipulations:

Use me, but not for anything that involves talking to people, because I don't like to talk to strangers.

Use me, but not for anything that involves tools, because I'm not very handy.

Use me, but not for anything that requires me to be punctual, because I have a hard time with schedules.

I think you get the picture.

We want God to use us, but only on our conditions. 

I am guilty of this.  As I was driving, I told God I would do whatever needed to be done for my mother-in-law.  Cooking and cleaning, caring for her physical needs, all were within reason.  But, I did mention a couple of things I did not want to have to face - I was very specific.

As I met with the nurse, she patiently instructed me on medications and dosage, charting pain level, physical care and so on.  Then, she waited until I was looking her in the eye and told me things I had been afraid to ask.  Naturally, the two scenarios I had most feared facing were the two she wanted to prepare me for.  As I sobbed, I stopped for a second and thought, "Yeah, I know - this is irony - and it's not funny."

I don't know why the most gracious woman I've ever met is facing such as aggressive disease.  I don't know why God is asking me to face what I fear most. 

I don't need to know.  I'm content knowing that I can lean on my Heavenly Father.  To some it may not make sense, but I know that He will hold each tear I cry in his hands and use those tears to water a wilting flower just in the nick of time.

If you tell God you want to be used and then add provisionary clauses; He may use the opportunity to teach you a lesson in irony!  I'm going to continue to pray for God's strength and courage to face what lies ahead.  I'm going to make the most of every day.  What about you?

May you seek out God's blessings every day, in every situation.  And remember, His hands are reaching down to lift you up.  Lift your weary head, reach up to Him.  You don't have to bear your burdens alone; His strength will carry you through. 

Living for the Dash

 (This was my third submission to the Faith Writers weekly contest.  This time I placed second in my category.)

                            "Living the Dash"

It was with a heavy heart I sat down at the dining room table to resume grading papers for my Creative Writing class. I had begun my first year of teaching high school enthusiastically, hoping to change the world one student at a time, hoping to make a difference in the lives of the young people in my realm of influence. Day after day, their attitudes were lackadaisical. More than once a week, I could be found sitting at my desk with hands clasped in front of me as tears ran down my cheeks. I wasn't sure I'd made the right decision, perhaps I should have majored in elementary education.

For this assignment, I had distributed handouts with names, dates and epitaphs from tombstones. Each student was to create a story using the information from one tombstone. Then, I had talked to them about "living the dash" and how your birth date and death date didn't define you.

The first few papers were worthy of saving. For starting fires. I picked up the next paper, written by one of my quiet students. James didn't speak unless spoken to. He was easily lost in the crowded classroom as I tried to maintain order and complete my lesson plan.

"Mrs. Miller, This was a really hard assignment and I know you didn't make it up to hurt anyone's feelings, because I don't think you would ever do that. But it was hard because my uncle and grandmother died in a car accident last summer. You couldn't know about it because you weren't here. I know you wanted us to write about your tombstones, but I want to write about theirs.
 
My uncle was a basketball star. My dad said some of the kids in his school called him the B-Ball god. He loved that. He lived with my grandma and he never had a job for very long, because Dad said he always wanted to be the star. He drank a lot, but mostly he wanted to talk about when he played basketball. When he died not a lot of people came to his visitation. The obituary made him sound like a hero but it didn't talk about anything but when he played ball. Everyone knew he wasn't a hero, he was the town drunk.

My grandma didn't die in the accident like my uncle did. She lived two more days and then she died. Hardly anyone came to her visitation or funeral. She was old and I guess most of her friends were already dead. After the funeral, a lady came up to my mom and asked her if grandma had ever talked about Tommy Harper. Mom said no, and the lady said that when my grandma was young she taught a Sunday School class and Tommy was in the class. Every Sunday, Tommy raised his hand for a prayer request. He wanted his mom and dad to live together again so he could be with them. Each week, the lady said my grandma would pray with Tommy. She said she was Tommy's daughter and she wanted us to know that she had been trying to find my grandma to tell her what happened to Tommy. Tommy led his parents to the Lord (I know you know what that means, because I saw your Bible) and they didn't get a divorce, they started going to church every Sunday with Tommy. Then some of Tommy's relatives got saved. And Tommy's daughter said it was all because of my grandma.

I think my uncle wasted his dash. He thought playing basketball in high school was a really big deal. I hope he's in heaven, but I'm sad that no one will miss him that much. My grandma is in heaven for sure and even though she would never believe it if we told her she had changed a lot of lives, she did. She changed lives for eternity. She didn't waste her dash. I don't want to either."

(I hope you're not mad that I didn't follow directions. I've never had a teacher that made me want to work hard like you do. And I'm not sucking up.)

Closing my eyes, I lifted my face toward heaven, "Thank you, Jesus! For James, for his grandmother and giving me what I need to keep trying."