I will not let that bitter root grow

Sometimes I just don't have the words to describe how I feel.  This song does.

"Fry Yourself a Pound of Bacon"

In order to prepare for our next step in this crazy life-long faith journey, we've been going through our piles of stuff...all of it: that little closet back in the corner of the house; the scary, dark, spider-filled spaces in the attic under the eaves; the dustbunny colonies under the beds...

In every little nook and cranny I find memories, and its made me a bit homesick for the Lowcountry of South Carolina.  When this mournful longing hits, I have no choice but to shell some shrimp and fry some bacon.  You see, all the best recipes in my hometown of Ravenel, SC start with "Fry yourself a pound of bacon."  MMMMmmmm!  Makes me smile just thinking about it.

So, here's my very favorite cure for the Lowcountry blues:

Red Rice and Shrimp

1 lb of GOOD bacon (not the cheap stuff, splurge on the Hormel black label or the Oscar Meyer center cut)

2 lbs of jumbo shrimp (raw, shelled and deveined)

2 cups of Uncle Ben's converted rice (it makes a difference.  You want the pieces of rice to stand alone and not get clumpy.  UB's is the best for that.)

28 oz. can of petite diced tomatoes in juice (you want the juice, so don't drain it)

1 box of chicken broth

Salt and Pepper to taste

In a big skillet with a tight fitting lid, fry yourself a pound of bacon (big smile).  Remove the bacon to a paper towel to drain.  Add the shrimp to the bacon drippings and fry just until the shrimp is opaque (pink and white).  Don't over cook it.  Remove shrimp to the towel with the bacon.

(I cut the bacon into three pieces per strip, and I make sure I make enough bacon and shrimp so I can "test" a few pieces while I cook the rice.  Best to make sure its good, you know!)

Add the two cups of rice to the remaining bacon and shrimp drippings, over medium heat saute the rice until it begins to turn opaque white and golden brown.  Don't let it scorch!  Stir it constantly.

(My cell phone takes yucky pictures, but if you look closely you can see some solid white pieces of rice in there.  They won't all turn white, though.  Once you see a few pieces of white, add the liquid.  You will be tempted to drain some of the grease.  Fight the urge.  Its SO much yummier when it clogs your arteries.)

Next stir in the tomatoes in juice and the box of broth.  Stir a bit and bring to a boil over medium-high heat.  Once its got a good boil rolling, turn down the heat to medium-low and put on the tight lid.  Don't touch that lid for at least 25 minutes.  

(I like to use a pan with a glass lid, so I can just spin the lid and see how its going inside the pan.  If you don't have a glass lid, wait at least 25 minutes and then take a super quick peak inside.  You want to see holes in the rice with just a little bit of bubbling in the holes.  I know that sounds like a crazy description, but you'll recognize this when you see it.  Check it every five minutes to see if you have slightly bubbly holes.  It usually takes 30-40 minutes. DO NOT STIR THE RICE!!!  If it gets a little extra done on the bottom, it'll have yummy crispy bites in it...but you don't want black bits!)

Once the rice is cooked, stir in the bacon and shrimp you still have (after "sampling") and heat through.   Some folks like the bacon crumbled, but since I cut it before I cook it, I like the big pieces.

There are a couple of crazy good side dishes I serve with this:  

Green Bean and Benne Salad

Green Beans cooked with pork fat 

Layonnaise Squash

Also, you simply cannot eat this meal without real Sweet Tea...not a mix...not with Splenda...and certainly not that nasty brown water called "unsweet" tea...GAG!  You simply have to brew it in a pan on your stove top and let the sugar dissolve in the boiling water first.  There is NO substitute.

And, because my life always has a soundtrack, you need some good old southern rock in the background.  Lynyrd Skynyrd, Charlie Daniels, or my all time fave, The EAGLES!  

ENJOY!

Recklessly Abandoned

I had the weirdest thing happen this evening.  Its never happened before, and I'm still kind-of reeling from the shock.  You see, my son actually put into words what I've been feeling.  Let me tell you, as a mom, its rather bizarre to read something your child wrote and realize, "Wow...that's really wise."

So, basically, my son defined faith as "reckless abandonment."  (Here's a link to his blog about this.)  This reminds me of what we learned from our teaching elder, John Ray, not too long ago: "Faith is being completely sold out for Jesus; NO PLAN B!"

My husband, Rick, and I are actively pursuing a position as house managers with ISCA (International Student Christian Association).  Basically, this would entail us moving from our almost 3,000 sq/ft house into @800 sq/ft of private living space, and sharing the community space with six international students.  We found out today that we'll also need to give up my sweet little dog, Sophie, to take on this ministry role.  We were also told that our private space gets pretty stinking hot in the summer...like, unbearably hot.

I'm sitting her tonight wondering if I can do this.  I think the better question might be if God's glory is worth it.  Something I read while taking the Perspectives class comes to mind:  The missionaries long ago would pack their belongings in a casket to take with them to their mission field.  They knew they would be giving their lives to share God's glory.

I'm probably not going to die as a result of moving into a campus ministry house, but am I willing to?  Giving up my sweet Sophie and possibly having to sleep on a downstairs couch on hot summer nights isn't a big deal.  Jesus is most definitely worth it.  I want to be recklessly abandoned.  I want to live like that!  Please read the lyrics as you listen to this song.  (I think they snuck in and read my prayer journal.)

Sometimes I think 
What will people say of me 
When I'm only just a memory 
When I'm home where my soul belongs 

Was I love 
When no one else would show up 
Was I Jesus to the least of those 
Was my worship more than just a song 

I want to live like that 
And give it all I have 
So that everything I say and do 
Points to You 

If love is who I am 
Then this is where I'll stand 
Recklessly abandoned 
Never holding back 

I want to live like that 
I want to live like that 

Am I proof 
That You are who you say You are 
That grace can really change a heart 
Do I live like Your love is true 

People pass 
And even if they don't know my name 
Is there evidence that I've been changed 
When they see me, do they see You 

I want to live like that 
And give it all I have 
So that everything I say and do 
Points to You 

If love is who I am 
Then this is where I'll stand 
Recklessly abandoned 
Never holding back 

I want to live like that 
I want to live like that 


I want to show the world the love You gave for me 
I'm longing for the world to know the glory of the King 

I want to live like that 
And give it all I have 
So that everything I say and do 
Points to You 

If love is who I am 
Then this is where I'll stand 
Recklessly abandoned 
Never holding back 

I want to live like that 
I want to live like tha

The Beatles Do Church

I am reposting this from the daily devotional, "My Utmost for His Highest."  It speaks so beautifully to what we are experiencing, that I see no reason to change a word.  And...to steal a phrase from my good friend, Liz: "God meets us at the level of our expectancy."  Amen, my friend!

. . . it has not yet been revealed what we shall be . . . —1 John 3:2

Our natural inclination is to be so precise—trying always to forecast accurately what will happen next—that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We think that we must reach some predetermined goal, but that is not the nature of the spiritual life. The nature of the spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty. Consequently, we do not put down roots. Our common sense says, “Well, what if I were in that circumstance?” We cannot presume to see ourselves in any circumstance in which we have never been.

Certainty is the mark of the commonsense life—gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, not knowing what tomorrow may bring. This is generally expressed with a sigh of sadness, but it should be an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. As soon as we abandon ourselves to God and do the task He has placed closest to us, He begins to fill our lives with surprises. When we become simply a promoter or a defender of a particular belief, something within us dies. That is not believing God—it is only believing our belief about Him. Jesus said, “. . . unless you . . . become as little children . . .” (Matthew 18:3). The spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, just uncertain of what He is going to do next. If our certainty is only in our beliefs, we develop a sense of self-righteousness, become overly critical, and are limited by the view that our beliefs are complete and settled. But when we have the right relationship with God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy. Jesus said, “. . . believe also in Me” (John 14:1), not, “Believe certain things about Me”. Leave everything to Him and it will be gloriously and graciously uncertain how He will come in—but you can be certain that He will come. Remain faithful to Him.

(I call this version of my favorite hymn, "The Beatles Do Church")

My Gentle Strength

Today is a GORGEOUS day here in NWA, and I cannot think of anywhere I'd rather be.  Even in this state of limbo, I am just so grateful for the life I have.

Things are still a bit up in the air as to what my husband and I will be doing for our ministry, but we are more certain than ever that we will be working side by side.  This is a miracle in itself.  

Just two years ago, I remember crying out to my Father and friends that I desperately wanted my husband to be a strong man of God.  I compared him to men I knew little about other than their public persona.  How could I know it would take the passing of a dear friend to open my eyes to the quiet strength he already possessed? 

We had known Ike Kirk for many years back in Maryland.  He was a man of very few words, but he was the very picture of "peaceful strength."  If there was a need in the church body, Ike was there to meet it.  You never had to ask, he just heard and responded.  On one particular occasion, we had moved into a new home and needed to have the locks changed.  Mr. Kirk just showed up and did it.  I'm still not sure how he knew it needed done.

I don't think I realized how much my husband loved that gentle man until he wasn't here anymore.  As we talked about him together, I saw for the first time, that my husband  is just like Ike Kirk.  He is quiet, yet strong; gentle and faithful; self-sacrificing and humble; a servant-leader and in love with his Savior.  He is a mighty man of God in so many ways.  

This week, we are meeting with a couple to discuss the possibility of a ministry that we can do together.  I can be my usual outgoing, loud, somewhat crazy and spontaneous self, and Rick can be his steady, faithful, gentle, loyal, quietly strong self.  Together, we can model what it means to be a Christian couple in the United States.  (I'll share more about the ministry after the meeting.)

Please, pray for us as we consider the opportunities before us.  Please pray that our desire for earthly security and status won't cloud our decisions.   Please pray that we will hold every possession loosely, and that Jesus' fame will be our only consideration.

As for my music today, well...I've been thinking about how much my husband loves books and movies about war.  I cannot stand them; however, it occurred to me that he loves these movies about men who gave up everything for what they believed in.  That is important to him...to sacrifice for your beliefs.  I know he does that and is willing to do more.  So, my gentle strength....This ones for you : )

You never lived to see
What you gave to me
One shining dream of hope and love
Life and liberty

With a host of brave unknown soldiers
For your company, you will live forever
Here in our memory

In fields of sacrifice
Heroes paid the price
Young men who died for old men's wars
Gone to paradise

We are all one great band of brothers
And one day you'll see we can live together
When all the world is free

I wish you'd lived to see
All you gave to me
Your shining dream of hope and love
Life and liberty

We are all one great band of brothers
And one day you'll see - we can live together
When all the world is free

Default Mode

Many years ago I did a group study using the book by A.W. Tozer "The Pursuit of God."  In this book he sharesof an elderly gentleman who described his thoughts this way:  "When my mind isn't distracted by the things of this earth, it naturally turns to my Father."  God was this man's default mindset.

Today is the office half-day-of-prayer.  This morning I've been praying (and accidentally dozing).  I am so easily distracted by all sorts of ridiculous thoughts.  "What will we have for dinner while family is in town?  I really need to fix that pull on the afghan.  My thighs are REALLY wide when I sit down."   My Father is not yet my default mindset, but I long for it to be so.

The daily verse on my devotional program is 1 Peter 1:18-19, “Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God. It cost God plenty to get you out of that dead-end, empty-headed life you grew up in. He paid with Christ's sacred blood, you know. He died like an unblemished, sacrificial lamb. And this was no afterthought. Even though it has only lately—at the end of the ages—become public knowledge, God always knew he was going to do this for you. It's because of this sacrificed Messiah, whom God then raised from the dead and glorified, that you trust God, that you know you have a future in God.”

I long for this "deep consciousness of God."  Instead of my mind naturally turning to the things of this world, I desperately desire Christ to be my default mode, so that all my thoughts, words and deeds will flow from a mind and heart saturated with Him.

I bet Jesus would have listened to the Clash...

Seriously.  If He'd been on the planet in the early 1980's instead of the 0030's, I betcha Jesus would have enjoyed The Clash's politicized lyrics, musical experimentation and rebellious attitude.  He wasn't exactly known for coloring inside the lines Himself.


For the past few days, this song has been stuck in my brain.  Do I stay or do I go?  I'll admit, there are definitely some times when I wouldn't mind grabbing a guitar and slamming it on the floor.  For now, I will throw on a black leather jacket covered with safety pins...maybe some up-to-your-armpit jeans, and some combat boots and revisit my youth while I try to wait on God.