(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

When You Want Your CHRISTmas to Have More Christ and Less Crazy
Nov 21, 2013 12:20 am | Ann Voskamp



~ excerpt from The Greatest Gift

'Big and glossy and loud and fast -—- that's how this bent-up world keeps turning.

But God, when He comes to us — He shows up in this fetal ball.

Christmas is coming  – and who doesn't want to come into startling wonder:

He who carved the edges of the cosmos curved Himself into a fetal ball in the dark.

He tethered Himself to the uterine wall of a virgin, and lets His cells divide, light splitting all white.

He gave up the heavens that were not even large enough to contain Him and lets Himself be held in a hand.

The mystery so large becomes the Baby so small, and infinite God becomes infant.

The Giver becomes the Gift..."

~ excerpt from The Greatest Gift



Come into the wonder? Let this Christmas come into the wonder again?

Let this Christmas come into the wonder of more Christ and less crazy?

Come to Christmas at the Farm — today!  It's today at 12 noon EST! My friend, Liz Curtis Higgs and I, we're over here at the web premiere of Christmas at the Farm and we're laughing, sharing recipes, talking about how to have a Simplified, Sane and Sacred Christmas (with a free printable/framable).

This could be Christmas like you've never quite experienced before — but have always been yearning for.


You breathe different in a room when you know it's not about the good you can accomplish but about the grace you can accept.

You breathe different through a season when you begin it by breathing in grace — 

Come exhale at the farm today —

Your personal invitation to today's webcast Christmas at the Farm:


RSS readers please click here to see your personal video invitation –and Lizzie and I looking happily ridiculous.

Liz Curtis Higgs, this crazy farm hick, and you —  Laughter. Live Chat. (Bad) Singing. Cookies. Recipes. The Word. Jesus.

And the free printable/framable: How to have a Simplified, Sane and Sacred Christmas.

Come over the hills and fields of snow — for Christmas at the Farm with Lizzie and Annie and a whole lot of Jesus.

Before the seasons gets kick started into high gear — maybe your soul really needs the gift of this?  Of Him.

See you today, 12 Noon EST!

P.S. If you're unable to join Lizzie and I for the web premiere and the livechat on at 12 Noon EST, today, November 21st, no worries —  the farm door will be left wide open just for you, to come to Christmas at the Farm whenever works for you!

Resources:  Ann Voskamp's newest book: The Greatest Gift: Unwrapping the Full Love Story of Christmas
Wooden Advent Wreath with Mary Figurine : Christmas countdown : "I found the one my heart loves" Ornament :



Q4 you:

What's been hard about Christmas for you?
What do you really want for Christmas this year? What do you really want your CHRISTmas to look like — the kind of Christmas you've always yearned for? What are your ideas of simplified, sane and sacred Christmas? Can't wait to hear your ideas too in the LiveChat today over at Christmas on the Farm!

[Judy Harder]

6 Habits for Happiness at Home
Nov 24, 2013

Melissa Michaels



I'm not always diligent in keeping up with all the good habits and routines I should practice every day. Sometimes I just have a hard time getting started with a new habit, but more often I seem to have a hard time keeping up with them.

But there are some things I do that I know for sure change my outlook on my day. No, I'm not talking about running five miles a day or going to the gym (although those would be great habits). I'm talking about very simple actions that don't take much effort but can dramatically change how I feel throughout the day. The habits and routines I  practice at home make day-to-day living a more joyful experience.

Here are 6 simple daily habits (in no particular order and certainly not all of them!) that contribute to my general well-being, happiness and gratitude at home.

1. Pray with purpose.

I keep a written list of people and needs to pray throughout the day to keep my mind focused on God's presence in all circumstances. Here is a cool prayer app you can use to keep track of prayer requests on your phone or iPad!

2. Count blessings.

Whenever my heart start to wander towards discouragement, I jot down a few of God's many blessings. It helps! I also love to decorate my home with many reminders of what matters most to me. Being surrounded by personal mementos, family photos, favorite memories, quotes and verses help me to focus on gratitude for what I have already been given.


3. Make the bed every morning.

This might seem silly, but for me making the bed is one of the dominoes that starts a chain of other good daily habits and feelings of happiness and gratitude for my home throughout the day.

4. Polish the sinks.

There is always so much housework to do, but if I can only keep up with even one household cleaning task every day, it should be my sinks. Life feels so much less stressful and I feel happier and more productive when our sinks are polished clean and not full of dishes or toothpaste globs.

5. Light up the darkness.

I love the ritual of turning on a few lamps around my house in the evening (especially in my entry and main living areas) to light up dark corners. The ambient light makes my house feel so warm, welcoming and cozy! I make it an intentional habit to feel gratitude for my home as I turn on the lights each night.


6. Practice random acts of kindness.

Everyone needs encouragement and we all need community. Even if we are busy, or naturally homebodies or introverts, it doesn't take much effort to reach out, build a little more community and make someone's day a little brighter. Besides the occasional coffee date to chat face to face, I've been working on remembering to send out quick notes friends to let them know I'm praying for them and taking the time to leave encouraging comments or compliments for friends or acquaintances on a social media sites. That small effort makes my day happier, too.

What are some of your daily habits that change the course of your day for the better?

[Judy Harder]

Thanksgifting
Nov 25, 2013  Robin Dance



Children know.

There's absolutely, positively no fooling them–they know.

I was a frazzled mama of three, my oldest still four when the youngest was born.

It was all I could do to manage house, home and a part-time ministry position, feeding one from my body and two from the table...or, the car seat.  Happy Meals aren't just about the children; sometimes they're sanity's tether.

Mamas are master jugglers.  If we aren't interested in selling our young ones to the circus on their wildest of days, we might be tempted to join it ourselves.  I'm certain the skill set transfers, and center ring at the circus is darn near a Calgon bath.

Children sense when we're distracted.  They know when we aren't really listening.

Tiny hands grasping your cheeks and turning your face toward theirs is demand for full attention.
"Listen, Mama,"  they say without a spoken word.  Chubby toddler fingers have very loud voices.

Sometimes I wish I had the freedom of a child–

The inhibition to demand full attention...

The liberty to let you know it hurts me when you're half engaged in our conversation and more interested in what's streaming on your phone.

The tenderness to ask you to enjoy our time together without a camera chronicling every moment.

You see, I'm not pointing fingers at you right now.  I'm looking in the mirror...

and wincing.

Oh, lovies–I'm a blogger with an iPhone and an Instagram account!  I have almost 3,000 pictures on my phone (and on my old one I had even more).  I love to capture memories in photographs because it helps me remember.

So, please....please, hear my heart?  I am not condemning or criticizing anyone!  Rather, I'm challenging myself and whoever would like to join me with a simple philosophy for the holidays–Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year:

Love fully.  Love well.
This means doing what Jesus talked about in Mark 12 and practicing Philippians 2:3-4.

Two of my children are now in college and my baby is a junior in high school.  Though I can barely stand thinking about it, my reality is that it is rare for all five of us to be together – to share a meal or sleep under the same roof – powerful motive to engage them without distractions when I have opportunity.

Once you realize you have 18 Thanksgivings and 18 Christmases with your children living under your roof and authority, you realize how quickly time flies.  Yes, they'll always be your babies, but I'm learning once they have a foot out the door, it's never the same.  That's not a bad thing, mind you; it's the natural order of life. But to a mama, it sure can be a hard thing.

I had opportunity to hear Laura Parker (co-founder of The Exodus Road) speak recently.  Though it wasn't the main point of her session, the most poignant takeaway for me was a challenge to do well the next thing in front of you.  In context, she was sharing the story of a woman who saw this as opportunity to love well the person she was with.  Putting myself in those shoes, it means regardless of the circumstances or the relationship I have with the person in front of me, I can love them well by giving them my full attention; not thinking ahead to what I'll say next, not looking around to who else I might want to talk to, not checking my phone.

We love strangers, friends and family the same way: by being fully present when we're together.
(And aren't strangers just friends waiting to be discovered?)

There is so much to do in preparation for holiday gatherings, I'm living that reality as I prepare to host our family gathering on Thursday.  To-Do Lists are a mile long with shopping and cleaning and getting home ready for family and friends (or getting your little people ready to visit others).  There are just as many ways to become distracted as there are recipes for turkey and dressing.

But I'm more convinced than ever that the most important To-Do is simply to love well the people right in front of me.
That is the Gospel fleshed out in my life.

By Thursday morning I hope the cleaning's done; but if it's not, it will still be enough.

By Thursday afternoon, the table will be set, the food will be prepared, and whatever got done will be more than enough.

I'll likely take a few pictures to help me with that memory loss thing, but my greatest hope is that I'll love my people well – that they'll be affirmed, esteemed, encouraged and fully attended.

My hope is that as we feast on good food and share the company of those with whom we share blood, we'll be full to the overflow with Thanksgiving because we've valued one another in a way that honors God and each other.

How can we make this holiday season memorable, friends?  I wouldn't suggest following my son's advice(!), but I sure would love to hear your suggestions for making memories.

[Judy Harder]

Whispered Grace
Nov 26, 2013 12:10 am | Amy Lanham



"Thank you." The words passed from his lips with concerted effort in barely more than a whisper. My sweet dad, fighting a several year battle with Parkinson's disease, didn't let the atrophying of his vocal cords prevent him from offering his thanks on a regular basis.

My dad's diagnosis came shortly after his retirement from thirty-eight years of teaching secondary math. The disease first presented itself clearly to us in his walk, which became more of a shuffle. Initially the medications and exercise routines helped tremendously, but in 2009 he began a sudden and irreversible decline.

Dear friends, I cannot begin to tell you all of the horrendous things this disease did to my poor dad's body. When he passed away in December of 2011, he could only turn his head and raise his arms.

In the midst of his deterioration, my grandmother passed away from a brain aneurysm, my cousin's husband developed terminal liver cancer in his 40s, and my own husband discovered his blood carries leukemia. Life became a bit overwhelming for our family to say the least, especially since I was a stay-at-home mom of two young children.

During this season I gained courage from my discovery of Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts.  I clung to Laura Story's song, Blessings. I trained my brain to dig for the joy surrounded by the broken. I strove to give thanks amidst the bleakness around me. My dad's example shown like a beacon pointing to the proper attitude to maintain.

My dad never complained. He did everything the doctors told him to do. He fought through all of the physical therapy like a champion. And, regardless of the level of treatment he received by some of the nursing staff at various facilities, he would take a deep breath, tighten his abdominal muscles, and do his best to utter thank you so they could hear him.

I would read to him or massage his feet, assist him to the bathroom, help change the bottle with his "food" when he got a feeding tube, adjust his covers, and put moisturizer on his lips, and for all of this I heard, "Thank you."

A friend commented he hoped his daughters never have to be in the position to do any of that for him. I hope that, too, but I can say that helping my dad with his most basic of needs is the single greatest privilege I have ever experienced.

If we do not offer praise for the beautiful, how then will we offer praise for the ugly?

Take this season to develop the habit of praise. Start a journal. Use the One Thousand Gifts app for your phone. Keep an ongoing family list of praises on a wall or in a book at the dinner table. Recount three "grateful things" at the end of the day with your children during prayer time. Flex your gratitude muscles so you may continue to do so during the desert times, because they will come. Simply choose one way to offer recognition to the Creator of all things good.

I witnessed the power of gratitude in the face of the formidable firsthand, and I will forever be changed. Will you join me?

"Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good; His love endures forever.
Give thanks to the God of gods. His love endures forever.
Give thanks to the Lord of lords: His love endures forever."

Psalm 136:1-3

[Judy Harder]

A Thanksgiving Scripture
Nov 28, 2013 12:20 am | incourage



Come, let us sing to the Lord!
Let us shout joyfully to the Rock of our salvation.
Let us come to Him with thanksgiving.
Let us sing psalms of praise to him.
For the Lord is a great God,
a great King above all gods.
He holds in his hands the depths of the earth
and the mightiest mountains.
The sea belongs to him, for he made it.
His hands formed the dry land, too.

Come, let us worship and bow down.
Let us kneel before the Lord our maker.
Psalm 95:1-6

Many of us will celebrate Thanksgiving today. All of us can come to Him with thanksgiving today – and every day.

Friends, we are thankful for you, thankful for your hearts and your presence in this community. You are loved and we count you among our blessings. Thank you. And Happy Thanksgiving!

Love,
the (in)courage team






The Rhythm of Thanksgiving
Nov 28, 2013 12:10 am | Kayla Aimee



Three years ago you were born even as I fought against nature and attempted to hold you in. This is not how the baby books tell you to approach labor. Quite the opposite, actually. Apparently I was supposed to work with the contraction, breathing out and letting it deliver you into this world.

Instead I gripped bed rails and held every breath attempting to stop you from slipping away from me, in both body and spirit.

They took you anyway, through an incision, so all that effort to fight my own body was for naught.

And at twenty five weeks gestation you had a birthday, fifteen weeks before your due date, now residing on the same calendar page as Thanksgiving rather than Valentine's Day.

They pushed my bed toward a recovery room down a hospital hallway adorned with festive fall decor, in the exact opposite direction they were wheeling you.

On our first Thanksgiving together I stared down at your face, cupped in my palm, the size of your skull so small that it failed to fill it. A nurse cleared away the tubes from your nose and your mouth and removed the tiny little shades covering your eyes so that I could see you properly, the flesh of my flesh.

When I was a little girl I traced my hand with marker and meticulously colored in each outline of a finger to form a turkey. Scrawled in shaky cursive on each feather was a thanksgiving for family, for food, for my cat Bosco who curled up on my feet at night and for winning the Pilgrim Hat Making Contest.

(I was a very competitive child.)

We went around the table and passed words of thanksgiving with the gravy, for family, for food, for fellowship and for football.

(Depending on which team was winning.)

Many thanksgivings have left my lips but none so full of truth than the day that I whispered it over you softly, so as not to overburden your yet unformed ears with the sound.

Then they draped a blanket back over your isolette and I couldn't see you, but I could see your heartbeats on a monitor and I counted every one in thanksgiving to its unsteady rhythm.

Another heartbeat. Thank you, Lord.

Another heartbeat. Thank you, Lord.

She forgot to breathe. Let her breathe, let her breathe.

Breathe.

Please breathe.

She took a breath. Thank you, Lord.

Elsewhere other families broke bread and bowed heads while I sat in the dark and uncovered a thanksgiving that I didn't know could exist in such suffering, one that entangled itself with my existence and would become a light unto my path.

I don't need a calendar for Thanksgiving now, all orange and brown, marked by apple cider and falling leaves.

You rolled over and it was Thanksgiving, hot summer sun beating down on the window.

You spoke a single syllable and it was Thanksgiving, snow falling softly from the night sky.

You took shaky steps toward us and it was Thanksgiving, blooms still in buds outside.

I know that our story could have ended differently and I'm still counting the Thanksgivings with heartbeats, a new rhythm of life where all of the smallest things really do call for rejoicing.

"Thanksgiving always precedes the miracle." – Ann Voskamp

And at night, when I tuck you in with your tulip blanket and feel your chest rise and fall with breath and pulse of a heartbeat underneath my hand, I can see it in the flesh.

Thank you, Lord.

"In everything give thanks." – 1 Thessalonians 5:18

[Judy Harder]

The Ultimate Cinnamon Roll
Nov 29, 2013 12:20 am | Jennifer Schmidt



I woke to the phone ringing.

A recorded message announced the first school delay. Snow flakes graced not only the grass, but the roads as well. In North Carolina, that reality rocks everyone's equilibrium, and as a Wisconsin transplant, I still chuckle.

With our eldest home from college, visions of grandeur raced through my mind. The desire to fill his love tank with picture perfect, Norman Rockwell memories struck.

Cozy fires, beautiful decorations, home cooked meals in which we linger at the table each day, the Christmas plate filled with an unending supply of cookies, but most importantly, the aroma of  my homemade cinnamon rolls awakening the children from their slumber became a priority.

I dashed downstairs and pulled the flour from the pantry.

Christening this first snow with delight needed to happen, and nothing was going to stand in the way.

And then it hit me. I remembered my reality and I looked at the clock.

Obligations, previously held commitments, and messes loomed. My heart desperately desired to create the kids' favorite Copy Cat Cinnabons, or at least my Overnight Refrigerator Rise Cinnamon Roll recipe, but the reality of life stood in the way.

Stress rolled in. The Norman Rockwell dream vanished.

I eyed the family room sofa filled with five loads of unfolded laundry. I rounded the corner of the dining room to catch a glimpse of the dog's mischief, which didn't smell too pleasing, and then remembered the boxes of stacked donations to take to Goodwill.  It was just a small start to the huge amount of purging that needed to occur, but in the process complete chaos ensued. So much so that when our son arrived home he questioned, "Aren't you completely overwhelmed right now?"

"Yes, yes, I am, and I feel like I can barely keep my head above water."

Yet in that moment, an epiphany occurred.

It's eye opening how the Lord sometimes uses the simplest of acts to reveal the deepest truths.

He reminded me of what's important through the tale of my three cinnamon roll recipes.

In that moment, I purposed in my heart to claim this December as His.  Unrealistic expectations might need to be released,  but my heart's desire need not be crushed.

This advent season celebrates our Savior's birth through the most simple of  arrivals, so why do I need to complicate it with self-imposed distractions that might conflict with elevating my worship of the one, true King?

I shoved the flour back on the shelf and grabbed the store bought prepackaged dough. I hit preheat and spent time praying over those blessings of mine asleep in bed.

I prayed that our family's priorities would stay focused on the One for which we celebrate. I begged for help in decision making, and wisdom to choose wisely during the next month, both with my purchases and time well spent.


And so while those 5 Minute Christmas Tree Cinnamon Rolls baked, life lessons spoke.

While not through some overtly super spiritual act, but through those little things that make a big difference, I remembered that I do this for them, for Him. It's not about me and not meant to impress.

In the midst of the ordinary of everyday, He uses the simplest gifts.

It's quite obvious that my son never knew whether I slaved over the stove all day or spent five minutes popping rolls on a cookie sheet; he was just grateful for the little things that spoke love to him.

The Ultimate Cinnamon Roll was realized! It came from time together. It came from the delight that occurred when they walked down and saw what was waiting.

Over the next month, give yourself that same permission.

Relax! Enjoy! Embrace the simple.

We don't give ourselves enough permission to do that and in turn create unnecessary stress amidst the "most wonderful time of the year."

I've learned that special moments, created with love, intentionality and simplicity, are embraced and appreciated just like those that took weeks of planning.

With that being said, I will be making my Copy Cat Cinnabon recipe on Christmas morn because it's what I love to do. It will take hours, but I will enjoy every moment without the stress, but until then, Pillsbury may be my secret weapon and no one will be the wiser.

What steps are you taking to enjoy your Advent Season?

Are you being proactive now to make sure that you can enjoy those moments that are most important?

(Shared by Jen Schmidt, Maker of three cinnamon roll recipes and balancer of both beauty and bedlam.)

[Judy Harder]

How to BE Patient

Stephanie Bryant



I was patient for her arrival. Knowing God was sending her in His best timing, for her and the world she was to serve.

But in the dark of the night of little sleep and baby rocking, my self cries, "Enough already!" and forgets about the beautiful miracle I have the privilege of caressing into dreamland.

{Have you forgotten about the miracle God has given you? You know the one. The One, too.}

She is entrusted to me, like each one of the miracles God has bestowed on my years. He asks me to steward her and all the everyday blessings He pours on us.

He asks me to sacrifice my desires for His. He asks me to live like He does. He wants me to be Holy like He is Holy.

I cry out, "Lord, make me patient."

{My impatience is an expression of my ungrateful heart. The feeling of inconvenience shows how I want things my own way, in MY timing. And pride is underneath it all.}

I scare myself sometimes at how my temper can flare, how I grit my teeth, how love seems to vanish and patience is trembling with fear at my selfish rage.

We've all prayed for it. Asked for more of it. Wish we could start over after we've lacked it. Patience.

_______________________

Love is.

First, love is patient.

I wonder if it's possible to embody the other attributes of love without patience? To be kind, not self-seeking or boasting, to be humble and not easily angered. . . all of these require patience with myself, others and, most importantly, my God.

With her on my lap, she suckles nourishment from my body. The very blood coursing through my heart is transformed into the food that feeds her growth. I watch with amazement at God's design as she drinks in more of me.

Life is in the blood. True life is in the Jesus-blood that covers me, my sin and hers already.

I am thankful and fearful at the same moment. I know myself. I know my thoughts. I'm nervous of how I'll react in the trenches of my new role as mama. I want to love her. I desire to be patient and teach her the same.

I'm amazed by my daughter's patience with me. She can't always communicate what she feels or needs. She doesn't set the schedule for the day. She is teaching me.

I cry out, "Lord, make me patient."

A still small voice rumbles in my insides.

"You're praying the wrong prayer. Why do you ask me for an outcome, a blessing, rather than the One who gives? I Am. I am the One you need."

The Spirit reveals His fruits. He calms my heart and gives me peace. The first of His fruits – love - tastes so sweet.

The second fruit He reminds me is patience, the very one I'm worried I won't have enough of to be a good mama to her.

God in me. The only way.

_______________________________


God is love. Love is patient. Patience is fruit from Him through me.

I cry out, "Lord, give me more of you."

Then, and only then, will I be patient.

And with this I draw near to Him and He draws near to me.

He is loving to me and it looks like patience. He is answering my prayer for my daughter to know the Lord. First, through me.

I pray she will love Him, serve Him and be fruitful. That she will experience His patient love by my hands.

I will BE patient, because of Him in me.

_________________________

Is it just me or do you struggle with patience, too? Where do you need more patience in your life? Do you desire the fruit or the One who grows it in you? Join me in wanting more of Our Lord and watching in amazement as He bears much fruit in our lives when our focus shifts.

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Dec 01, 2013 12:20 am | incourage



In the beginning the Word already existed.
The Word was with God,
and the Word was God.

He existed in the beginning with God.
God created everything through him,
and nothing was created except through him.

The Word gave life to everything that was created,
and his life brought light to everyone.

The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness can never extinguish it.
John 1:1-5

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[Judy Harder]

A Soul Feast & Homemade Apple Pie
Dec 03, 2013 12:10 am | Elizabeth Anne



I like it when the communion assistant knows my name. I lift my slim rim to meet the silver V of the chalice. The blood of Christ shed for you, Beth. I say Amen and tilt the sliver of plastic, that liquid ruby sliding down, over wafer crumbs still in my mouth.

This soul feast—it's what's to sustain me in the week to come. But I'm never quite sure if I do it right.

Is this the day? The day I feel communion take hold in my body? The time the wafer and wine feed me week-long, nourish me, make me more Christ-like? I try the quick ACTS formula before communion, thinking it might ready my soul better, though worship during worship always seems better suited to the childless.

Adoration: God, I praise you, for you are mighty. Your wonders never cease.
Dispense raisin handfuls.

Confession: Dear Lord, there are so many ways I've failed you this week. I've been impatient, selfish, snapped at my kids, didn't love my husband as I should. I'm sorry. Please forgive ...
Retrieve matchbox car under the pew to quell rising squeal from 3 1/2 -year-old.

Thanksgiving: God, your blessings are many. You give us so much ...
Admonish 8-year-old for all-too-audible "is church almost over?"

Supplication: ...
The usher finally clears his throat; I'm not sure how long he's been waiting for us to retrieve our cups.

So, here I am, again, communion-complete. And, I feel content. I always do. I'm happy, whole, for this brief moment, until the kids start squabbling because someone accidentally stepped on someone else's foot. And, the nourishment ceases. Or, I cease to recognize it.


A quick text from my husband's cousin has turned into having all the family over for Sunday dinner—a group that includes great-grandma, my in-laws, my sister-in-law and her family, and, of course, the cousin and her family. There will be six kids total, four of them under six. I have a few hours to make and clean up from lunch, put the toddler down for his nap, prep dinner, tidy house, and make homemade apple pie.

Usually, I'd be all awhirl with frenzied activity, but this afternoon, I select a lower gear; I strap my phone on, runner-ready, and plug earphones in {though this is an exercise in paring and pastry}. A made-from-scratch apple pie takes time.

I spread out rinsed apples, chopping board, chef's knife, compost bucket, peeler. I tap Pandora on. Soon, I'm done peeling and start to make squares of cores. I slide the blade down one side, shaving off a cheek of white flesh; and repeat.

Ten Shekel Shirt starts singing "Beauty." I've never heard it before.

I slice thin, palest golden half-moons. The mound grows, and my mind leans into this minute alone, this music, this lyrical loveliness.


Tell me that mystery and majesty are
Drawing me
Sometimes when I get real
The greatest presence I can feel
It's like a fire inside that burns me deep
And I come alive

I'm slicing apples, and it's so stunning, this moment, my eyes prickle with joy. I've come alive to His splendor in this humble space, and it's nourish-worship, feeding my soul right now.

___________________________________________________________________

Perfect Apple Pie
Dough:

2 ½ cups flour
2 tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. salt
11 tbsp. chilled unsalted butter cut into small pieces
7 tbsp chilled shortening (I use coconut oil instead for its health benefits and yummy taste!)
4 to 5 tbsp. ice water

Filling:

7 medium apples, peeled, cored, sliced
¼ cup each light brown sugar & granulated sugar
1 tbsp. fresh lemon juice
½ to 1 tsp. ground cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
¼ tsp. salt
2 tbsp. unsalted butter
1 tbsp. plus 1 tsp. cornstarch or arrowroot powder, if you have it

Method:

For dough, mix flour, sugar and salt in food processor. Add chilled butter and shortening and pulse until chunks are pea-sized or smaller. Sprinkle water over dough and pulse until dough holds together. Form dough into a ball with hands and separate in half; press each half into a disc, wrap up, and refrigerate for 30 to 60 minutes.

For filling, combines apples, sugars, lemon juice, spices, and salt in large bowl; toss and set aside at room temperature for 30 minutes (up to 3 hours). Drain liquid from apples. Add butter and liquid to a small saucepan and cook, swirling liquid over medium-high heat until syrupy, about 5 to 10 minutes. Transfer apples back to large bowl, toss with cornstarch, and pour syrup over apples.

Move oven rack to lowest position and heat to 425 degrees. Remove chilled dough and roll out bottom crust and place in a 9-inch pie plate. Fill with apple mixture and roll out and place top crust. Press edges to seal and cut about 4 steam vents in top crust. Bake on foil-covered  sheet for 45 to 55 minutes or until juice bubble through slashes. Remove from oven and cool for at least 30 minutes to help the filling set. Serve warm or at room temperature.

[Judy Harder]

Getting Out of the Way of Yourself
Sarah Mae


I was going through some old posts of mine, and as I read them I thought, "These are pretty good."

Now before you think I'm being arrogant or some such thing, let me tell you that I struggle deeply with feeling like a fraud as a writer.

I fight and squirm when I have to write, and I've all but convinced myself that I have no business writing. So when I tell you that I said to myself that I actually like some of the things I've written, it's kind of a big deal to me. It tells me, maybe I can write, maybe it doesn't matter what I think so much as that I get out of my own way, keep my eyes on purposes of the kingdom, and just keep on writing. Ain't nobody got time to be neurotic. It's a self-disease, this constant critiquing of self.

And it just distracts us from the glory work at hand.

If you've got business to do, and God has put you in a place to do it, get out of your own way and get on with it.

"Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.
And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."
Hebrews 12:1

Throw off the constant self-critique and RUN! David's prayer in the Psalms isn't that he would search his own heart, but that God would search it and show him the way. I think we've been doing too much self-searching and we need to let God do the searching and the revealing and the healing.

How can we run if we keep looking this way and that, and checking our feet and wondering how we look as we run? Let's get all Eric Liddell with ourselves and just move, even if we look crazy in the process (apparently he looked all crazy when he ran, arms flailing). I'm okay with crazy, as long as I'm thoughtful and focused on the goal. Which reminds me, what is your goal?

My goal, my finish line, it's not to get to the end of my life and go, "Whew, done! Did well!" It's to run right into eternity into the arms of my savior, and I can only do that if my eyes keep directed at Him.

What direction are you going?

Friends, let's stop tripping over our own feet, our own inadequacies and quirks and not quite awesome grammar, and let's just run with whatever God has put inside us! Whatever it is! Writing, baking, mothering, clerking...whatever! Run, girl! Feel the wind, the Spirit in you as you move to His rhythm. Keep on.

He'll do the work in you, just keep on.

Love, Sarah Mae, SarahMae.com