Wrestling Alone

“So Jacob was left alone and a man wrestled with him till daybreak.  Genesis 32:24 NIV”

We all know what it’s like to be alone. 

A spouse leaves.  A child dies. Friendships separate. A move happens. Pain sets in.  Grief, for what is lost, permeates the deepest crevices of our souls. 

We wonder if God has left too. 

When our 3 year old daughter died suddenly, my faith was shaken to the core.  Having been a Christian my whole life, I was shocked by the questions of unbelief and doubt that flitted through my mind.

One hot summer day, I sat weeping by her grave.  I looked up at the clear blue sky and asked God, if he existed, to show me that he and Heaven were real. In that grief stricken moment of feeling so lost and alone, I longed for simple reassurance that I would indeed see my daughter again, because at that instant, I really didn’t know. 

Through tears, my eyes focused on a wilted rose left from the delicate pink casket spray.  Someone had stuck its long stem into the dirt right where I sat. I began tugging gently on the ugly, dead stem.  Up, up it came. As the last part of brown cleared the clods of dirt, a tiny, fresh green leaf unfurled its beauty.  With heaving sobs, I realized the significance of God’s answer to me at that very second. He calmed my weary soul, sending his message through a single dead flower that wasn’t so dead after all.  

Jacob knew about being alone. 

He’d met God while on the run from Esau. He had zero family near, was unsure of his future, and had no place to sleep except a pile of stones he used as a pillow.  

Soon after, his life changed.  God’s blessing and abundance became evident.  Returning to his homeland meant facing fears of how Esau would respond. The night before the big reunion, Jacob heard Esau was headed his way with a band of 400 men.  He sent presents for Esau, his 4 wives, and his passel of youngins ahead, then stayed alone at the spot where, unbeknownst to him, he would meet God once more. All night he wrestled with what the Bible refers to as “a man”.  At daybreak, Jacob begged the man to bless him before he left. 

God did.  

Jacob named the place Peniel, saying “it is because I saw God face to face and yet my life was spared”. 

Through our ongoing grief, I have found odd comfort in wrestling with God.  After all, He created me, mind and intellect. He knows my questions before I ask them.  His shoulders are big enough to carry the weight of my inquiries. Sometimes He answers in colossal, magnificent ways. Other times he gently brings me face to face with seemingly insignificant, dead flowers.

You asked for it – Installment #4 “Nana’s Biscuits”

**this post originated a few years back for my baby sis who lives 1000 miles away making it impossible for us to bake together as much as we’d like…

A favorite in our household is biscuits and gravy.  I am not the queen of either by any means but recipes are made for tweaking and perfecting and trying again.
I have been working for some time on simple biscuits, like my mama makes.

Now getting a recipe from her is kind of difficult.  She puts a pinch of this and a little of that along with a whole lot of love into a bowl and out come 100% pure yummyness.

I think she may have once upon a time kind of followed a recipe from my her childhood friend, Sylvia so part of this credit probably actually belongs to her.

There are those childhood favorites that we just must capture and pass along to the next generation….this is definitely one of them!

  • 1 c. flour (she always used King Arthur)
  • 1/2 t. salt
  • 2 t. sugar (organic evaporated cane is what I use)
  • 2 t. baking powder
  • 3 T. butter
  • 1/2 c. milk
First essential: Start with your favorite bowl.
Mine is an old antique find I got at a yard sale for $.50
Mix all dry ingredients with a fork
Cut butter into dry mix
With your hands or a pastry cutter make crumbs with the butter and flour mix
Gently add milk and mix with fork
You will have a moist, slightly sticky dough
Pat out into a small circle.  Mama always drops her dough onto the baking sheets
so that works too.  But we prefer the rolled dough.
A juice glass works perfectly to make just right circles.
Place onto baking sheet and bake at 425 for about 10 minutes.
Make sure to not overbake.
We love to eat them in many different ways, including hot with
real butter!
We are also fans of topping them with jelly, honey, cheese or real maple syrup.
No matter how, they are always delightful to the last bite!
What is your favorite sentimental recipe?

Enough

I’ve been there a bunch lately.

In that place I call “the corner”.
It’s that uncomfortable state of being.  Many of us find ourselves at there, some more then others. 

If we’re honest.

I beat my self up there.

“Crazy” happens there and the “yucky ugly” comparison of me versus others who are perceived to have reached those gargantuan places full of perfection I can never hope to attain to.

There’s also the “what ifs” section of the corner.  It’s the place where every idiosyncrasy of my spontaneous nature is dissected and abhorred.

What if I’d been more rigid in my education style?  Maybe my kid would read better?

What if I’d been more watchful? Maybe I’d still be mom to 4 living children instead of 3 and 1 angel.

Lots of my friends have been there too recently, in the corner.

They stress and fret and stew and live really hard and sometimes very yucky day to day existences.

They wonder, as do I, about who they are.  Really are.

They wonder if they are worthy.

They wonder if they are loved.

They wonder if they are enough.

And they wonder if they can make it though one more day of pain.

I once read a home school mama’s book called “Teaching from Rest”.
Now let me tell you, I don’t get much reading time.  I enjoy reading but my current pace eliminates time for meaningful reading. But this book was short and I devoured it.  Every single line. It was what I needed at that moment.
It gave me the much needed reminder that rest is ok…and really actually needed…and that the crazy we subject ourselves to with the lists of activities and responsibilities (not to mention the beating ourselves up time)  we immerse ourselves in, while though they may be good are not always for our best.
It did not grant me a license to be lazy, mind you, but to re evaluate my priorities with the Best Yes philosophy that has turned my life upside down. (Go read Lysa Terkhurst’s the Best Yes if you haven’t yet…)
This also motivated me to re investigate the truths of the Bible and how they apply to my day to day.

Here’s my most recent list (since I’m all about lists…)

*We are LOVED. 
Ephesians 2:4 – 7 says “But God being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which He loves us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ…

*We are VALUED.
Matthew 10:31 says Fear not, therefore; You are of more value then many sparrows.

*We are PRECIOUS.
Isaiah 43:4 says Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you, I give men in return for you, peoples in exchange for your life.

*We can make it through the tough.
Isaiah 41:10 reassures us of this..”Fear not, for I am with you; Be no dismayed for I am thy God.  I will strengthen you, I will help you…

* We are ENOUGH.
2 Peter 1:3 says “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness..”
and then there’s this one…Ephesians 2:10 – For YOU are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works…”

How’s that for value?

If you like me and many others I love, struggle with who you are, let me shout to you from my corner that YOU ARE ENOUGH!

Fat, thin, short, tall, smart, not so smart, introvert, extrovert….You are loved by your creator.  YOU ARE ENOUGH!

So much has happened recently that has reinforced these truths.
I’m finding that so many of my beliefs center around my wrong thought processes and me not valuing who God created me to be.

Not that I need to take pride in wrong ways, but God talks much of our value in his word so there has to be truth to that somewhere right?!

I ran into someone, who in my mind is somewhat of a celebrity.  She bounces around in memories of my childhood.  She has also reached pinnacles of success I feel are never going to be my destiny.  (how’s that for the yucky comparison monster?) My first reaction at meeting her again had me shaking in my boots.  “She’ll never remember me…country mouse I be…” But as fate would have it, God reminded me of my value. I considered running the other direction or acting like I was busy when she entered the room.  But there she came, straight into “my corner”..and she remembered ME!  and had the same recollection of memories.  I’d have missed a great conversation if I’d stayed stuck in my corner, worrying and devaluing God’s handiwork.
Now, I’m not saying that her remembering me gives me value, but for me it is a reminder of who I am…I AM ENOUGH!

Casting Crowns has a song I love called Voice of Truth.  Take a minute to listen. Let the truth wash over you.

And if you are facing a “climbing out of boat onto the crashing waves” time in your space called life, take hope and remember…YOU ARE ENOUGH!



He is enough!



           

Walking Each Other Home (Valentine Giveaway)

It’s Valentine’s week again.  

As I consider the hype surrounding America’s most romantic holiday, I wonder how many of you find yourself disenchanted with love itself.  

After the freshness of romance has worn off, sometimes before the honeymoon has ended, we are left with dashed expectations, hopes, dreams. 

Sounds lovely doesn’t it?! 

Lowell and I will celebrate our 23 anniversary this year.  And while the years have definietely been filled with a lot of hard, we are super blessed as well!  

I could prattle on and on about what I have learned and where I have failed in my marriage. 

I won’t bore you. 

It’s quite simply boils down to this…

Marriage is the daily process of laying down self, our expectations and how we think things should be. 

It is taking up God’s agape love for our spouse. 

I recently heard Agape love referred to as “the process of walking one another home”.  Isn’t that a neat thought?

How do we do that well?

I’ve had several conversations again lately that have reminded me how much we as married couples have in common.  

Our struggles may differ in intensity, but we all struggle.  

I haven’t met a marriage yet who claimed to be stress free. 

Also, I am convinced that there is strength in community when we can be open, honest, vulnerable with others about what we may be experiencing in our marriages. 

James 5:16 says “Therefore confess your faults to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.”  While James may not have specifically been referring to marriage, I see this as perfectly applicable to the state of our unions. 

If your marriage is in a good place, use that time to pray for others who may need healing and completeness in their marriage!  

After 2 plus decades of learning all about the nitty gritty of marriage, the one defining thread woven through all stages, has been the reminder and motivation to pray for Lowell. Godly women I admire have stopped me in the midst of grump sessions to ask me the tough question, “Have you talked to God about this?”

GIVEAWAY TIME!

In honor of this blessing, I am doing a giveaway here!  Stormie Omartian wrote a powerful book called “The Power of a Praying Wife” .  If you’d like a chance at a copy of your very own, simply leave a comment here on dorothymiller.com telling me a favorite way your spouse blesses you. 

I will draw a winner on Valentines day. 

I pray blessing on your path as we all walk each other home.

Thankful for the Locusts

So I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten, the crawling locust, the consuming locust, and the chewing locust, my great army which I sent among you.  

You shall eat in plenty and be satisfied,  And praise the name of the Lord your God, Who has dealt wondrously with you;  And My people shall never be put to shame.  

Then you shall know that I am in the midst of Israel:  I am the Lord your God and there is no other. Joel 2:23-25 NKJV

I have always loved writing and began blogging as a means of recording “God sightings” in our family’s day to day moments. Those who know me well, know me as the hopelessly addicted to picture taking, post to social media freak.  I have always said that’s proof of the good times. 

After grief came, I wondered if the sun would ever shine again. Would good times grace our lives again?

We’d walked through infertility.   

Grief visited then too, but in a different way. 

I grieved what I perceived as wasted years.  

Afterall, didn’t God put the desire in me to be a mommy? 

Seasons changed.  

I always picture God giggling as He blessed us with 4 babies in 4 years. 

I was finally living the life I was destined for.  

His plan however was different than mine, when he called our Abby back to heaven unexpectedly after 3 short years here.     

My knowledge of grief was suddenly obsolete. 

I struggled with remembering God’s goodness when grief came.  From my point of view, the locust called grief destroyed all the joy we had known, leaving life bland, empty. 

As I have thought more in depth about the locusts, Job 2:10 kept coming to mind.  I love how it reads in the amplified Bible. “Shall we indeed accept only good from God and not also accept adversity and disaster?”  Job had just lost everything and I mean EVERYTHING, his home, his livestock, his crops, his kids.   Now Satan was attacking his physical body as well. His wife, bless her grieving heart, advised him to curse God and die.  (There’s a whole nother lesson for another day…) The verse ends with an admonition that still issues challenge for us thousands of years later.  “In all this Job did not sin with his lips.” 

He trusted that the God who had blessed him richly would take care of him during hardship and extreme adversity and loss. 

Same for me.

Despite my wrestling and many questions, God stayed close, constantly revealing himself as the faithful God he is.

Since then, my goal has been to make the best of messy, and to focus on God’s restoration of joy, even in our broken and to encourage others to do so also. 

Times & Seasons

“And the God of all grace who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. 1 Peter 5:10 NIV”

Today is not only the start of a brand new day, but a brand new season for me. Through an extended period of illness for me, we made the decision as a family to put both our daughters into the public school. Having known nothing else but the homeschooling I have done for almost a decade, I feel a little lost when I get up in the morning, even though I still home school my 7th grade son.

As I look back on our journey, I see very clearly how God’s divine hand led us to and through the places we’ve been. I did not set out to home school. But after many years of infertility and also having worked as a teacher’s assistant I went gung ho into the process.

It was indeed the best yes for our family’s season as we grieved the sudden loss of Abby. Grief can not be hurried or placed on a time table. We were able to putter about and do what needed doing in that time.

Back to the present…I have always loved writing and for as long as I can remember have written. I come from a heritage of writers. My grandfather was a devout Amish man who from my earliest memories sat holed up in his office pecking away at a manual typewriter writing for the Family Life magazines he founded or the Amish newspaper, the Budget. As a young child I pondered how one could possibly spent all that time tucked away.

I get it now. It’s in my blood.

My uncle Ira is soon releasing his second book after his first called “Growing up Amish” became a New York Times best seller. Along the way I’ve picked his brain and he’s always been super encouraging.

Both men are my inspiration.

Over the years, I have had much encouragement to write. As I have spent time exploring God’s call on my life, it has become apparent that writing may just be a piece of that puzzle.

Though I don’t yet know if me writing is for the greater good, or simply for my own healing and encouragement. I do know God has offered me the gifts of time, a support network, and a small platform where I can make my mark on my world, all gifts I can not refuse.

Our guest speaker at church yesterday, John Troyer, spoke directly into my vision. He talked of being plucky and asked us to raise our hands if we saw ourselves as that. Only one or two did. He then went on to explain that plucky is defined as “having or showing determined courage in the face of difficulties” I was to intimidated to raise my hand but after church my sweet husband questioned me about if I had raised my hand. At my reply, he stated quite abruptly that plucky defines me perfectly.

John explained how we are all pretty much created fully and completely average. Reassuring, isn’t it? But then we all have an assignment from God that is not limited by those around us. He finished by challenging us to remember that pluckiness keeps going and how each of us must allow God’s dream to be planted in us.

So, today, with my dream in hand I set out on a new adventure. It may seem a little scary and a whole lot intimidating, but I have a finished manuscript that has already passed several editing processes and just needs me to be brave enough to write an actual proposal, so I can get it published. I choose to embrace my new season with joyful anticipation because I know who’s with me.

“The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; Do not be discouraged….Deuteronomy 31:8”

And If Not

I’ve been sitting on these 3 small, seemingly insignificant tittles of our English language for quite some time. Continued notions zoom by as I have played them over and over intertwining them with the plaguing unanswered questions that seem to be on constant replay.

I have noted myself to be a person of contrast, sometimes gullible and easily swayed, yet firmly grounded in what I have found to be truth.

My parents taught me about prayer at a young age, a gift I cherish and enjoy to this day. They showed me God’s personal side, and his love for us, his beautiful creation, and how very much He pays attention to the small details in our lives.

As I have grown older, I find myself somewhat callous and honestly, at times, questioning. Do my prayers matter? Is God really who he says he is? Is Heaven real?

The heavy load of grief has saddled many a dear soul close to me, including my own.

Sometimes I find myself wondering why we even pray for healing, financial miracles or restoration of a marriage.

Did I just say that out loud?

Recently though I was reminded of the why we do exactly that.

A sweet friend recently lost her husband to a brutal brain tumor. On the post announcing his passing, the one line caught my eye. Through my tears, I have gone back to it several times. “although our hearts are broken, we rejoice with him that our prayers for complete healing were answered…”

God did not close his ears to the prayers of healing for this man, he just answered them in a different way then hoped.

Heaven is perfection, complete healing. Whereas staying here presents the reality of continued pressures, problems and pain.

While seasons may bring us to different places in our thought processes, the reality of our foundation is God’s faithfulness and knowledge of what we truly need most.

He invites us to ask the most difficult questions with the assurance that his shoulders are big enough to handle them.

His call to us is simple yet profound.

In Matthew 17 he says, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.

He, sweet friend, is bigger and more capable then the what we see as unanswered prayers and every “and if not” moment we face.

All I Want For Christmas

This past year I enrolled in a fabulous writing course which has opened up a whole new world for me. As I have hungrily devoured each lesson, repetitive encouragement has been to “find my voice”. As I have started to find bits and pieces of that answer, fear has intimidated my inner soul.

What if people don’t like “my” voice?

What if my story is not unique enough to make a difference?

What if I am not able to be true to the calling God has etched in my heart?

The past 2.5 years have seemed to play out on repeat. As I peruse the stuff I’ve penned in that time much of it has similar tones of questioning, sickness and pain. But in the masses of words, I also see the promises of a better tomorrow and of God’s faithfulness.

We are in a season.

Since grief came, I sometimes wonder if the seasons of hard stuff will ever cycle around and bring happier times again? According to the Bible it’s got to. Ecclesiastics says “to everything there is a time and a season…”

The past weeks have had me wondering if the season of sickness for me will ever end. For the 3rd year in a row, my illness is preventing our Christmas trip to see my family in the sunny south.

Day after day I continue to feel poorly, fight fevers and infection and miss out on things I really want to be apart of. It’s made me quite grumpy really. Ask my family.

As I think about finding my voice and ultimately honoring God with my life, I keep coming face to face with the compelling reality of speaking about God and his love for me, even when the season is long and hard and boring. After all it’s not my words that need saying, but His. And His words will not go out void.

So as I pen out my thoughts, I must align them with His. Instead of wallowing in self pity, I must instead reflect on His blessings. This thought process changes my perceived needs.

While I could write a list a mile long of all the things I think I want and even need, I will chose simple instead.

Help me to cherish the moments.

Help me to be truly thankful.

Help me to be smack dab in the center of your perfect plan for me.

What Matters Most

2019 has been a year of changes in our household.  

Many have been major and more life affecting then we could have ever imagined. 

I must confess that I care too much about what others think about our life, so my anxiety has heightened in the process. 

I’m learning change isn’t always bad.  Sometimes it is the healthiest of choices. 

A plant can not become the beautiful green we see without change. 

Growth isn’t easy and is definitely not pain free. 

Leaving our church home of many decades topped the list of difficult change.  Lowell has referred to the process as more difficult than death. It has been a type of death, of life plans and dreams. Issues still unresolved bring harsh reminders, but God gifted us with His beautiful peace and strong awareness that our family is exactly where He wants us. 

My health has continued to be a challenge. I ended up with a hysterectomy, a partial thyroidectomy, continuing sinus infections, and will end the year with dentures (yes…at the age of 44) all of which are major changes. What really matters is that I am much better off without the diseased parts. The dentures are the most challenging, but I have been told the long term teeth issues are most likely at least part of the reason for the ongoing headaches and sinus infections. Even though, I haven’t felt the greatest and am back on meds that mess with my gut majorly, God continues to be faithful. 

Most recently we made a family decision that will change our lives dramatically.  The girls decided they want to go to “real” school and mom and dad decided to oblige.  Having homeschooled our whole family life and anticipating doing so to the end, threw me for a loop.  With the learning struggles our children have all had, my emotions have vacillated between anxiety at the job I have done as a teacher and not having them where I “want” them and joy at seeing their excitement. While I am sure there will be stresses yet unseen and hurdles they’ll have, I am blessed they have a good place where they already have friends, for them to start this different part of their journey even though it means mom has to learn a whole bunch of stuff she knows nothing about like bus schedules and lunch accounts.  What really matters is that my girls have had some really cool relationships that have readied them for this season. And they have God and his care and love guiding them. 

Another funeral for a younger (50ish) man from our church has reminded me again of how short life is.  All of us face difficulties and stresses. While I may sound like a broken record, each day is a gift. Living it to the fullest and doing so for the God who created it and us is what really matters most. 

Creative Chaos ~ Inviting Children Into The Kitchen

If you’re anything like me you might shudder at the thought of having your young ones help in the kitchen.  After having 4 babies in 4 years, the many needs of littles took precedence over my love of cooking and baking.  

Now as I navigate through what was once my haven, I sigh as I remember my clean, organized, pre-motherhood kitchen.  Remnants of toast and strawberry jam occupy one corner, while a dirty pot someone warmed hot chocolate in sits unwashed on the burner.  A jar of peanuts with the lid half off sits beside my flour and sugar canisters. 

Can you picture it?

Now, don’t let me mislead you with the title, I am not always an inviting mother.  My descriptive tag could usually more accurately be “momzilla”. I confess that on any given day,  there may be frequent grumping and loud roars at my young one’s attempts to help me in what I consider to be my space.  Sadly, I am guilty of crushing tender hearts, sending them away in tears as I huff and puff, hurrying to just get done. 

As my children have grown into independent human beings with definitive tastes of their own, it has become more challenging to prepare a good balanced meal everyone consumes willingly.  

Each meal turned mom into an on demand, short order cook. The realization of how little my children actually knew about the kitchen and what happens there reinforced the reality that my impatience and inability to share my space was actually doing my children a huge disservice. 

Since we are a home school family, I decided to implement food prep and time in the kitchen into our schedule.  Each of my children, ages 13, 12 & 10 now cook independently or at least help me cook on their scheduled day. Doing so has forced me to be intentional in not making our schedule to full, a big key to a harmonious shared space.  My own grumpy doesn’t seem to sneak out as easily when we aren’t rushed. Plus, each meal has some kind of learning involved. Both reading and math are present in our menu, which is my sneaky way of practice for the one that struggles.  Surprisingly, I must say that involving my children has greatly decreased the appearance of the picky eating monster and I’m delighted to simply cook one meal that all enjoy. Watching their creativity as they plan, prep and prepare their meals has made my mama heart proud.  

When our oldest daughter was about 8 or 9 all she wanted to do was concoct her own recipes.  Though some things did not turn out as she envisioned, she came up with some yummy treats like chocolate apple pie. (it’s really quite delish!)   While she would rather be out playing volleyball, she never ceases to amaze me with her meal plans and foodie ideas.

Daughter number 2,  is my naturally born chef and at age 10, literally spends daily time serving us.  I find her entertaining to watch and wonder often what God is preparing her to be and do.  She tastes and samples as she goes, making sure each flavor comes through just right. She’s become quite the salsa making expert and loves coming up with healthier dishes for us to enjoy. Some days when ingredients are smeared all over the stove and every square inch of counter space, I have to bite my tongue and gently and quietly help her learn how to properly clean her cooking space when she’s finished with her creations, which is a life skill in and of itself.

Recently as the family bemoaned the fact that there was no dessert to be found in the house, my son asked if we could try making our own biscotti.  I had no idea at that point, that he even knew what biscotti was, but we had a bunch of fun looking through recipes till we found the perfect one. The whole container full was gone in about 48 hours so we set out to make them again, adding more of our own personal flavors the second time around.  While they still have sugar in them, it is less than a traditional cookie and I feel like I am serving a bit of a healthier option. Plus he and I made some great memories in the process. 

Here are some of our kid tested and approved recipes that are used on a frequent basis. 

Fresh Salsa

1 hot pepper

1 cucumber (optional) 

1 bell pepper

3 cloves garlic (crushed)

4 sprigs fresh cilantro (or 1 T dried) 

1 small onion

1 qt canned tomatoes (drained)

Juice of 1 lemon or lime (about 2 T) 

½ T salt

I allow my children to use the food processor when I am present.  It has been the easiest way to prepare this quickly unless you love chopping. 

Place all ingredients into food processor except for the tomatoes. We like to see and taste the individual flavors so we just pulse till nicely blended not pureed. 

Place chopped items in serving bowl and do the same with the tomatoes. 

Mix gently.  Refrigerate till serving time. 

This has become a staple in our home as it tastes fresh even in the dark days of winter. It is the basis of several meals and snacks including hay stacks and wet burritos both of which can be a yummy way to incorporate fresh veggies. 

King Arthur Biscotti

6 T butter 

Scant ⅔ c sugar

½ t salt

3 t vanilla

½  t almond extract

1 ½ t baking powder

2 eggs

2 cups flour

Add ins – our favorites are any kind of nuts especially peanuts and pecans, chocolate chip (white or milk).  We usually add about 1 to 1 ½ cups into the dough at the end.

Side note: We found this original recipe on my favorite King Arthur Flour website. I have found that these seem to turn out better using that flour. 

Preheat oven to 350.

Line 13 x 18 baking sheet with parchment paper. 

In large mixing bowl, beat butter, sugar, vanilla and almond extract, salt and baking powder till creamy.  Beat in the eggs. At low speed, add flour. Lastly gently fold in chosen add ins. Dough will be sticky. Divide dough in half and shape it into 2 logs about 10 inches long by 2 inches wide and about ¾ inch tall.  Wet a spatula and use it to smooth out the surfaces, making sure each log is the same thickness so that they will bake evenly. Bake the dough for 25 minutes. Remove from oven. Using a spray bottle filled with room temperature water, thoroughly spritz the logs making sure to cover the entire surface. Reduce the oven temperature to 325.  Place trays back into the oven for 5 minutes, then pull out and slice into ½ inch slices with a bread knife. Set slices on edge and place back into the oven for another 20 to 25 minutes or until they start to feel dried out and turn golden brown. 

Transfer to a baking rack to cool. We store in large glass jars. 

We love sipping/dunking these into hot chocolate, chai, coffee or even just plain cold milk. 

Our Favorite Family Salad Bar

Lettuce and/or other greens (I have learned my family loves the butterhead lettuce I purchase pretty much year around at Costco.)

Cucumbers

Peppers

Onion

Carrots

Broccoli

Cabbage

Eggs

Cheese

Bacon

Grilled Chicken, steak or turkey (Can grill a large batch and freeze for later!)

Various dressings

Recently some health challenges spurred me into thinking about incorporating even more veggies into our diet.  While I don’t usually run into issues with desserts and yummy main and side dishes, getting my kids to choose to eat salad seemed impossible until I started asking them for input on what they think might be salad topping. I have found that my children are fascinated with and love to use my kitchen gadgets.  This makes chopping, shredding and dicing a breeze. We serve each ingredient in a separate bowl, as I have found allowing each family member to assemble their own salad makes for a much happier meal time. 

The protein options actually make this a super simple and complete meal that leaves even my big eaters full. 

While I still am guilty of displaying a less than Christ like attitude to my children when they come into my kitchen,  I find it helpful to recall how patient Christ is with me in the learning process messes that I make. I am also painfully aware since my youngest daughter died suddenly,  how quickly life can change and that we may not always have the children we take for granted.  

God has gifted us with them and instructs us to teach them in the way they should go. Teaching takes time and patience.   I can’t help but think there can’t be a much more fun (and delicious) place to do so than in the kitchen.