BLUE

A great expanse of pale blue skies
Unending deep blue seas,
Distance sounds a heart that beats,
But not for me.

Early mornings, busy days
A smile, a talk, a song,
Strong hands make a warm embrace,
But not for me.

Young to the call, swift to respond
Years wear happiness.
The plan fulfilled, a promise, still?
But not for me.

The home place holds it's beauty,
Oaks shadow many stones.
Across the lake, once pure,
Moon lit the water's edge,
But not for me.

TERIYAKI NIGHT

I have been experimenting with a homemade teriyaki sauce recipe for some time now and I think I have finally perfected it....no, I know I have.(well, to my liking anyway) Never again will I buy the chemical-laden, preservative filled, bottled kind from the grocery store.(oops, never say never) Not only does it make your home smell like heaven, but it takes moments to make and when it is thickening on the stove, all I can say is WOW! I could just eat it right out of the pan. Oh...wait a minute.....I did do that. :)

preparing the chicken for baking

This sauce is great for baked chicken wings(with lots of cayenne pepper added to it to make teriyaki HOT wings, but I used it on a whole baked chicken last night, baked in my Pampered Chef stone. The only other thing I added to the chicken before baking, was a finely chopped, small yellow onion and  onion powder...the sauce really does it all, trust me. 

The picture below is after it has finished baking. I made baked potatoes, and instead of using butter, we used the teriyaki flavored juice that was made during the baking process. I think this juice would also be great poured over rice, like a gravy....OR just get yourself a good piece of bread and "sop" up the excess on your plate. yum!

It fell off the bone. We all were moaning with delight as we savored the tender, moist, amazing taste.  Truly.

So who needs homemade dipping oil for your bread when you have the teriyaki sauce juice from your baked chicken? (Although the dipping oil is heavenly too. If you want that recipe just holler.  :)

For those of you who have asked for this recipe it's as follows:

1 1/2 T. cornstarch

3 T. water

1/4 c. Braggs Amino Acids(taste like soy sauce)

1/4 c. Braggs apple cider vinegar

2 large cloves of fresh garlic(minced)

1 1/2 t. fresh zested ginger

1/4 c. or a little more of pure maple syrup

1/4 t. black pepper

Combine all ingredients in a sauce pan and simmer until it thickens. Stir ocassionally so it won't stick. 

( It will become much thicker as it cools and leftovers can be stored in the fridge for a few days)

ENJOY!

Son

Cradled in her arms, colicky and crying,
She holds him close and tracks her steps
she's etched in the old wooden floor.
Silently she sheds her tears in unison
with her tiny son.
Another sleepless night is drawing near.

Can she bring comfort to him?
Can she speak words to soothe his soul?
Will her countenance show she loves him?
Or will his cries dictate the rhythm for which
her heart will beat?

He's 17 and late again, the clock strikes 3 a.m.
The back door opens but not so quietly,
as she watches him stumble into the washing machine,
trip over the coffee table and collapses onto the sofa
where he sleeps the drunkenness away.

Pain and sorrow flood his mother's heart.
His life in shambles as he's lead astray.
Intelligent and full of talent
she recalls his finger's as they danced across his violin.
"Fisher's Hornpipe" he would play.
His eyes would twinkle, his smile infectious,
"Mom, one more time," he'd laugh,
if he missed one note, he'd say.

Can his mother comfort him?
Can she speak words to soothe his soul?
Will her countenance show she loves him?
Or will his cries dictate the rhythm for which
her heart will beat?

He needed help, he couldn't do it alone.
The bottle and tobacco were his friends.
To the airport they headed.
He would fly to California.
The ties that bound him had to end.
Mom hugs his neck tightly,
she feels his fears and turns and walks away.
As she sits in the car, she sees her son stand at the ticket counter.
Through the big glass window his scared eyes meet hers
and he helplessly mouthed the word slowly, "M a m a."
And for a moment frozen in time
she saw her hurting little boy
and her tears flowed as she drove away.

Can his mother comfort him?
Can she speak words to soothe his soul?
Will her countenance show she loves him?
Or will his cries dictate the rhythm for which
her heart will beat?

Years would past, he'd take a wife
and darling children were his pride.
A happy life, a promising job,
his own world for him to guide.
One day he breaks, controlled by his demons,
he starts a fight, runs from the police and
finds himself in jail.
The charges stacked against him,
his heart with no remorse, has cast his family away
all for the love of self.

Still, can his mother comfort him?
Can she speaks words to soothe his soul?
Will her countenance show she loves him?
Or will his cries dictate the rhythm for which
her heart will beat?
Another sleepless night is drawing near.

Surrendering

One the the hurting ladies in Africa

I had a wonderful opportunity to share this part of my testimony to a very large group of single women, both young and old, while I was in Africa 2 years ago. I had no idea the impact it would have nor the results it would unleash for healing and restoration. God is so good. I'm so glad He never gives up on us and wants to see us healed, whole and healthily serving Him as we surrender daily to Him.

Due to being abused and raped repeatedly during the years I was 8-10 years old, had left shame and fear controlling my life. The very core of me was broken and fearful, and untrusting. I thought I had let go of all of these things, after all, I had truly forgiven the man many years ago, but these things had built up over many years and as a result, came out as years and years of anxiety and anxiety attacks, many times completely uncontrollable. I was a prisoner in my own body, in my soul. It took a toll on me physically, emotionally and spiritually. My home became my haven, but also my prison. I desired to go no place else, I couldn’t go any place else. Fear would grip me. At the time I had no idea it was fear or shame that had me so bound. What was I to be afraid of? Nothing.Yet it continued. Asking for help was and is the hardest thing for me, because of being hurt by people, people close to me and people I love, and having them see things not as they really are and then having my words twisted and thrown back in my face, which were never my words in the first place.

I dated so many guys, went thru so many relationships where they fell in love with me, but I couldn’t love back. So many of them wanted to marry me. In my turmoil, I ended up losing someone who loved me so very deeply because of my trust issues. I wasn’t sure he could accept my hurts, fears, and shame I was bearing. I loved him so much but was afraid to trust him enough to let me in to help me walk through my pain and shame.

The first step to healing and being set free was collapsing. I mean really collapsing. I felt I was at the end of myself many times, but I still endured more. I was up against a wall, scared, sad, so very sick, suffering and desperate. Admitting that I knew I hadn’t given all my hurt, fear and shame to God completely was hard to swallow because I loved Him so very much. I knew He redeems, sets free, restores, and blesses, but I just wasn’t sure He would want to do those things for me. But a few years ago, God told someone to tell me, that I was being set free and would be used mightily by God. They gave me a Word of great encouragement that started me on the road to restoration and healing. I had known God loved me, because He sent His son to die for me, but I just didn’t think He liked me that much. I knew He SAVED me, but I wasn’t sure He SAW me. I have loved God with my whole heart and entrusted that heart to Him since the age of nine and then merely one week after my salvation, surrendered my life to missions, by walking down that very long isle in my home church, not realizing how these things would put me on a path destined to follow Him all the days of my life.

Our walk with Him is always new, always fresh, always changing and always surrendering. Every moment of every day, when my will gets in the way, when that shame or fear tries to raise it’s ugly head, I am STILL learning to say, “It’s yours Lord….I trust you completely.” I think of my grandbaby, Chip, whom I have practically raised while my daughter has been in the hospital for over a year now, and how he is completely comfortable in my arms, knows I will care for him and doesn’t even question it, and that I will keep him warm and fed and loved unconditionally. He greets me, always, with a huge smile, and comes crawling as fast as he can, and lifts his little arms for me to hold him and then while looking me straight in the eye, smashes his glowing face as tightly against mine as he can, with both his chubby little hands on each of my cheeks, pulling me to him, and with his little mouth wide open, gives me the most wonderfully, intense, open mouthed wet kisses in the whole world. My God expects no less from me, in fact, He relishes in it so much so, that it delights Him and He rejoices over me with singing. What a thought!

Mount Moriah

Abraham was promised by God that he would be the father of many nations, yet by age 99 he still hadn't had a child of his own. Not to mention that fact that his wife, Sarah, was up there in age too and way beyond child bearing years. Yet, when God makes a promise He keeps it, afterall, He is God. So after many years of waiting on this promise to come to pass, finally at the age of 100, Abraham's son,Isaac, was born. He loved him so very much. Possibly too much. Because one day God ask Abraham to take his son Isaac, and go up to Mt.Moriah and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. Abraham loved God so much, that the next morning he loaded a donkey with firewood, took two of his servants, and his precious, long awaited promise of a son, Isaac, and with a very heavy heart headed out to do as the Lord ask of him.
Most of us know the story well. Abraham stopped at the place the Lord showed him, built an alter, and tied his son, Isaac, down upon the firewood for the sacrifice the Lord had required. As Abraham lifted the knife up high, I'm certain with tears in his eyes and a cry in his heart, to plunge it into his beloved son, an angel of the Lord shouted,"Abraham, Abraham, don't harm your son. I know now you love God more than you love your son..." Then Abraham looked and saw a ram caught in a thicket and sacrificed it on the alter instead of Isaac. Then Abraham called that place, Jehovah Jireh, the Lord will provide.
I've often thought, why on earth would God promise Abraham this precious son, and have him wait on this promise for so many years, only building the love and anticipation, then ask him to sacrifice this promise as a burnt offering unto Him. The only thing I can come up with is that Abraham must have grown to love Isaac so very much that his love for him must have made God jealous. Exodus 20:4 tells us we are to make no idols of any kind and place them above God. He is a jealous God and will share his affection with no one or thing.

I have trudged up Mount Moriah several times in my life and have laid down my Isaacs on the alter, to my God, in surrender to His request. I've had dreams and yes, promises from God that He has asked me to sacrifice. I've lifted the knife and have anticipated a voice from heaven stopping me before I plunge it into my dream or promise, yet none has come. So with tears and sobs, and a heart crushed with sorrow and pain, I've sacrificed my dreams and promises to my God that I love more than any thing else. Did I love these things more than God? I don't think so for a second. If God promised me I could have them, why did He ask me to give them up? I don't have all the answers, but I trust the One who does. He is Jehovah Jireh, He will provide.

So as I journey up Mount Moriah, once again, and willingly lay, yet, another "Isaac" on the alter, it becomes a little easier with each climb. The obedience to sacrifice is a little less begrudging and the surrender is more a release of trust, knowing He will provide a ram instead, but if not, He has something far better in store. I trust Him. I dearly love Him. I believe I have proven that as I lay my Isaacs down.

Prince Charming

Just like a story in a fairytale writen long ago,
The wicked one had cast an evil spell, on one the story goes.
She fell asleep, no more to wake in darkness she would be,
To never know a love so strong and true, but the story changed you see.
Out from the darkness, came a knight riding galantly,
A kiss of love would break the evil spell and set his true love free.

Chorus:
You see, she knew him as her saviour, the one who set her free,
No more to lie in such darkness, for the wicked spell did flee,
Because the love of someone so great, she found her Price Charming.

Well, my story is somewhat the same, but not so long ago,
The evil one had me bound in sin, so my story goes.
I was slipping into darkness, dying more each day,
I never knew Someone could love me, in a very special way.
But from the darkness came a Light, that light was Jesus Christ,
He died to take away the curse of death, and set my spririt free.

2nd Chorus:
You see I know him as my Saviour, the one who died for me,
No more to be bound in such darkness, for He came to rescue me,
He's the love that I have longed for and oh, so much more.
You see I know Him as my Prince of Peace,
But He's Prince Charming to Me.
Yes, I know Him as my Prince of Peace, but He's Prince Charming to me.

NuNu

My husband and I have been watching our 3 grandchildren every evening while their dad goes to visit my daughter, his wife, in the hospital. So each evening, around 5:30 we arrive with supper, snacks and bible story book in tow.

Well, my 2 year old grandson, Justice, has had a little swelling of the nunu over the last few days. For those of you who do not know what a nunu is, well, it is the lower private parts of the male or female body. I'm certain I don't need to go into any more details, as I believe you get the picture. I'm not sure where the term really originated from, but my sister in law first enlightened me on this new word for these private parts many many years ago. Anyway, Justice's nunu has been very very swollen and red for a few days now. So swollen, in fact, that it is approximently 3 times the size that it normally is or should be.
This evening as we arrived at the door, we were greeted by "YAYA!" as were their yells of excitement upon our arrival. Toogie was wearing her Rapunzel wig, Chippy wearing one sock on and one sock of,f as he came crawling rapidly to me, and Justice, well, Justice was wearing nothing. Yep, stark naked on this winter day, with his bold red, swollen nunu practically flashing like a neon sign. Well, that is naked, all but the thick layer of vaseline which covered the whole protrusion. His father thought it would be a great idea to just let him run around naked, let it air out and hang free, instead of having it smashed into a diaper, making things quite painful for the little guy.
As he wrapped his little arms around my legs to hug me, I couldn't help but laugh out loud. Here is this sweet little boy, so soft spoken, laid back and shy(most of the time), running around the house without a stitch of clothing on, with a very oversized, red, vaseline covered nunu, literally sticking out for all to easily see, and not a hint of inhibition in his actions or character. Hmmm, I thought to myself, I wonder where he got such immodesty from? But before I could make my thought verbal, Leighton injected, "He did not get this immodesty from me OR his mom." I just stood smiling, as all fingers pointed to me. "Guilty," was all I could say.
After I finished feeding the kids and cleaning up the kitchen, we all 5 gathered on the couch for a bible story in which I would 'pretend' to read. But it's really more like narrarting and acting out instead, as the story book is writen for much older children than my audience of a 5 year old, 2 year old and 8 month old. Popcorn was freshly popped for everyone by their Poppy, and all were settled in their place, ready with eager little ears to hear the dialogue and story of Cain and Able. As my drama unfolded, I couldn't help but take in the pleasure of seeing such a precious sight on the couch in that humble little apartment. Toogie, the 5 year old, was sitting next to me, with her little popcorn bowl between her legs, Chippy, the 8 month old, was sitting on Poppy's lap with both little hands trying to dig into the white fluffy kernels and sweet, naked Justice, age 2, was wedged in between Poppy and Toogie with both of his fits and mouth completely stuff with his buttery morsels. They loved hearing bible stories, especially Toog, or was it that they just loved the over acting and dramatization of their Yaya?
As I concluded the story and closed up the book, we all proceeded to get up from the couch. Toog, being the most aggressive bounced off first, then Poppy stood up with Chippy still in his arms, and as Justice struggled to scoot to the edge of the couch and stand up, we all burst into laughter. His whole little nunu was covered in white pieces and crumbs from the popcorn which had dropped from his hands and mouth right into his vaselined 'area.' I could not stop laughing. My husband kept telling me to stop laughing and clean it off for him. Justice just stood there, frozen, looking down at his collection of leftover popcorn which has collected onto his nunu. He seemed puzzled as if he didn't understand how it had gotten there. I was on my hands and knees in front of him but I couldn't stop laughing. I pulled my camera out of my pants pocket to take a picture of this solemn faced little naked angel with the unusal nunu problem, and my husband said, "Don't you dare." I put my head down on the floor and roared in laughter.
Poor Justice. He didn't care if I took a picture of him or not(remember he has the modesty of his Yaya) or if I bothered to pick the popcorn pieces off of him, since it hurt when he was touched. He just could not understand why his YaYa was laughing so hysterically at his perdicament.
Maybe it was just pent up emotions. Maybe I just needed a really good belly laugh in the midst of all the trials and heartache I am walking through. Or maybe it was just the site of seeing a hugely swollen, vaseline coated nunu, covered with broken popcorn pieces all over it. Whatever the reason, I just couldn't help but smile, as I carefully removed the sticky popcorn kernels, and I thanked God for giving me grandkids. They are indeed a comfort and joy when your world seems to be spinning out of control, inspite of a swollen red nunu.