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5 Tips For Cultivating Gratitude

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In a study noted at Harvard, psychologists found that giving thanks can actually make you happier. They also found gratitude helpful for people focusing on what they had, instead of what they lacked. 

As fall turns to winter, shorter amounts of daylight breed depression for many.

Instead of succumbing to the negative, why not try gratitude instead?

#5. Write a thankyou note to someone who has made a difference in your life.  

A real honest to goodness stamped envelope or postcard in the mailbox is an extra treat in a society bombarded with instant everything. 

Thank your hairstylist for the great cut you get each month.  Compliment your pastor for the time he spent on last week’s sermon. Tell your child’s teacher how much you appreciate the extra time they spent helping Johnny with a harder concept.  Look up someone from your childhood who made a difference for you during those tough preteen/teen years. Your parents, spouse, children and friends are excellent choices as well.

#4. Thank God (out loud) for the green light and the open parking spot.

Our children hear us loud and clear.  The vocal grumping at the slow poke driver in the fast lane needs to be balanced by thanks for the non irritating parts of the day.  Or, you could try thanking God for the slow poke. 

#3. Keep A Prayer Journal.

Sometimes writing out requests helps our focus become less selfish.  Charting answers to prayer can provide a faith boost. The Harvard study also stated that people who pray and meditate are more grateful. 

#2. Start a “3 Things” Tradition with your family. 

At the end of each day, whether at dinner or at bedtime, have each family member name 3 things they are grateful for.   It can be the good supper mom made, or the play date with a best friend. We live in a warm house and our shoes don’t have holes in them. You get the idea. 

#1. Be intentional.

After Abby died, I found it a chore to get out of bed each day. 

My sweet friend Sara introduced me to the idea of taking pictures and making an Instagram post each morning about 1 thing that brought me joy or that I was thankful for. What started as a 30 day challenge, ended up being a year plus of daily posts.   Even though the time included hospitalization with a scary illness, there was still always something good if I chose to look for it. Being intentional takes work but is so rewarding!

Psalms 9:1 says,  “ I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” He has blessed us indeed.  The least we can do is live with a heart of gratitude!

What are you most thankful for today? I’d love to hear your list!

Magnificent Adversity ~ Finding Purpose in Pain

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His face seemed sad as he sat quietly beside me. I could tell he wanted to chat, to tell me the thoughts currently plaguing his mind.  

I struggled knowing the right questions to ask, though I could guess exactly what was coming.  

I had urged him to go to an overnight multi church event, telling him it would be fun. 

He’d been hesitant, but agreed to go. 

Since his little sister died 5 years ago, sleep has been an issue, so I obtained permission for him to bring his audio book and a noise machine our family has found to be helpful, pushing back the worry that it may be another way to set him apart. 

Sure enough.  

I watched my son, with tears in his eyes, explain how he had been the object of jokes and how the other boys had told him in plain english that he just wasn’t cool enough to be with them.  

Ugh.

I’ve thought as he’s grown, that boys are so much less drama than girls.  

How incorrect my assumption!   

I know my son is different.  

He’s left handed, dislexic, and big for his age.  

He prefers entertaining younger children over playing games with his peers and still, at age 12,  loves Thomas the Tank engine. 

He’s never been into playing ball or sports of any kind, thought we’ve offered to get him involved. 

Despite the list of things he’s not, he is a mastermind at fixing things. 

He is my troubleshooter, fixing anything from my broken food processor to the tv remote. 

Reading the hard copy of a book is not his strength but he has devoured close to a hundred full length, age/grade appropriate audio books in the past few months. 

Parenting has had many surprising twists and turns. 

I did not anticipate the sheer amount of drama that presents its ugly self each day. 

I remember some drama as a kid but the stuff my kids have experienced makes me contemplate moving the family to a deserted island. 

Just kidding of course.  

In all seriousness though, I long to protect them and just make things be ok. I wish life would treat them kindly.  Not that we need a pass for doses of extra kindness, but from my vantage point, grief pretty much made their playing field uneven, rough at the edges.  

I pray for Godly, kind friendships for each of my children and that they could be kind as God is kind, loving the unlovely and the unpopular. 

Mostly, I hope that I am not making them into feeble, frail persons who as adults will embrace a victim mentality, holding on tightly to every hurtful situation.  

As I continue to observe their stories unfolding, I am made painfully aware of how much I am just like them, insecure, awkward, unsure of who exactly God made me to be. 

This past year has been a real exercise in reminding myself almost daily that I am not the sum of what people have said and surmised me to be.

The pain of being labeled and defined by one’s weakness and past can squeeze the very life out of a hurting soul. 

It’s especially difficult when the most hateful of actions and words come from those professing the name of Christ. 

My teenage daughter spoke complete truth from one of our family’s lowest points this past summer stating simply that if the actions we have seen represent Christianity, she wants nothing of it, no part!

What then is the basis of living like Jesus, learning what God is trying to teach us and finding the good in our adversities?  

1 Thessalonians 5:11 says very simply “Encourage one another and build each other up”….

How do we do that?

The start may simply be understanding that God created each and everyone of us with meaning and purpose and treating those around us with that awareness. 

I recently sat through a super fun, community class where the main focus was studying personality differences.  We looked at our own strengths, weaknesses, joys and needs and then evaluated which other natures we get along with the easiest and how very important it is to remember the need for each and every personality God created. 

While some of the hard times in life revolve around more than simple personality differences, evaluating the reactions of others based on how God created them may help us extend grace much more freely. 

Maybe our focus is key?  

I am hoping that my children will see me work through my own pain, insecurity and awkwardness in healthy ways and that they will find the courage to seek and find God’s unique purpose for each of them and offer that grace to others. 

Living Deliberately

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Today my sweet friend buries her mother.

As I sat and chatted with her a few weeks back, she shared how she had helped her mom pick out the dress and jewelry she would be buried in. As I stood at the casket admiring the sparkle of the fabric and the beauty of the necklace, my mind of course went back to another time and another casket and the thoughts of those moments swirling in my brain.

Each death I observe seems to have that jarring effect.

My mom lost her first sibling a few months back, a brother just younger then her. They were close. My siblings and I are close to his kids. Watching them grieve has made me think about life in that sobering, change your thinking kind of way. Again.

After Abby died, I thought for sure I would never slip back into my old complacency and the lack of living intentionally. Sadly, I all to easily find myself there.

I don’t know if I will ever come to the place where guilt does not plague the thoughts of my last moments with her.

I was busy, to busy to stop and enjoy the moments.

As much as I know guilt is not the place to live, I struggle with the muddle at that very thin line between feeling sadly and living in peace.

Relationships and life in general can be intense and exhausting. Watching my friend and my cousins cope with the reality of sickness and death has reminded me much how the effort of multiple weekend trips or the time for the phone call are to soon memories and the only tokens left of the life of someone who was a deep integral part of our very foundation.

As I wrote much on my facebook grief page, I often ended with “mamas, GO hug your babies”.

That hug, smile or kind words may be the last moments we get to share.

We don’t know.

We aren’t promised tomorrow.

All we have are the moments right in front of us right now.

For me that means putting down my device or the work I think will never end and listening to my sweet daughters who both still love to talk to me, sometimes incessantly. It means hugging my touch loving son multiple times a day. It’s about calling my own sweet mama for our daily chat.

It boils down to cherishing the good, the bad and the ugly and embracing a life of intentional love.

Finding My Place

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Before I begin,  I want to emphasize:

*1. I am writing in the spirit of Proverbs 11:14 where it says “Where there is no counsel, the people fall; In the multitude of counselors there is safety”  

I am hoping to spark a discussion on a subject that has been kind of taboo.  It may not be an issue in every church and community but it has long been causing controversy, pain and division in my circles.

*2. I could journal privately…some say that may be better.  Words can’t be unsaid. However, this post has been brewing for many months. I released it last fall, and in typical Dorothy fashion caused a stir so I took it down, prayed and edited more. SO thankful for Godly mentors who have been a part of the journey to the re- release.

*3. I am not a radical secular feminist.  I believe God has distinct roles for women. He loves us and created us to bring glory to Him. 

That said, I do believe that Christianity through the centuries has fueled the fires of the ugly side of radical feminism by treating women as “less than” and allowing heinous abuse to continue under the guise of “Godly” male leadership thus encouraging many groups to succumb to embracing a shame culture…

I have bumbled about in my writings and have sometimes posted what some consider to be controversial. I’ve been told I make people squirm and feel uncomfortable, like when I posted on my own blog,  something very personal that happened to me in a 2014 blog, titled “The value of women in the church”. Can be found here: https://dorothymiller.org/2014/01/

The downside of what I have been told are my giftings are the facts that I can be bossy, overly dramatic, pushy…overbearing.  That is not my heart. 

  A while back, at a roundtable discussion of a Christian organization I belonged to,  the moderator read an anonymous comment from someone apparently irritated at how women were becoming “noticeable” in the workings of the group.  While the discussion that emerged didn’t necessarily agree with the comment, other females in the group (myself included) began to question if we were truly stepping out of place. 

This questioning  brought old yuckies out of the dark closets of my being. Part of the comment questioned if women should be “allowed” to pray out loud in public settings.  

Suddenly, I was back in time a few years, cheeks burning, wishing I could fall into a hole in the ground. I had just requested prayer for a female friend who was in a tough situation. As I turned to sit down, the group leader handed me the microphone and asked if I would stand in the gap and pray for my friend.  (Up to that point women in that group had not been asked to pray in public so I was unsure what to do.) I stood there, hands trembling as I watched the next few seconds unfold. It seemed what I had been asked to do was not proper “politically” in that setting, but I felt God’s strength and stood ready. Soon though, amidst mumbling and convo I couldn’t catch, the microphone was snatched out of my hands and a man was praying. It was ok.. but the humiliation was enough to want to make me bury myself for a thousand years.

As I continued processing the questions,  I felt hurt, devalued, a little angry maybe, and now even more unsure of my role and place in that particular group.  I began praying fervently that God would help me find HIS truth.  

After another sleepless night, I got up and started diligently searching the scriptures.  They are packed full of tidbits of wisdom and truth and are filled with all manor of commands, to love, to exhort, to be like Jesus and how that looks.  Now bear in mind that I am not a Biblical scholar by any means, though I do enjoy a good word study. This is where I came out at.

The 2 passages that have often been the basis for the role of Christian women, focus on what women can not do and from what I understand, basically refer to women not teaching or preaching to men in a church setting.  1 Corinthians 14:34 says “the women should keep silent in the churches. For they are not permitted to speak, but should be in submission, as the Law also says”.   1 Timothy 2:12 says “I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet”

There are many more instances in the Bible, especially in the New Testament where women are mentioned in a positive light/what they CAN do and showcase the fact that women were indeed involved in the early church.  

In Acts 16 Lydia is mentioned as one of the first to come to Christ and upon her conversion openly used her gifting of hospitality and invited Paul, the famous missionary to stay at her home. 

In Acts 18, Priscilla is mentioned along side of her husband Aquila as an example of people who actually mentored the Apostle Paul.  

In Romans 16, Phoebe served as a deacon (imagine that!) and supported the work of the church through seeing the needs of the saints.  

Acts 21 mentions the great evangelist, Philip and his daughters who were prophetesses (not a real quiet or perhaps socially pleasing calling…) 

Women in traditional Christian settings typically serve on food and sewing committees and occasionally teach Sunday school,  all of which are worthy needed parts of what makes organized church happen.  

But if we are going to say that we take 1 Corinthians 14:34 literally, then are those “offices” even ok? I may sound fanatical in asking that but really…

Passages like Romans 12 speak of the many parts of the body working together to make the Body of Christ what it is.  Are women not a part of the body?

Quite frankly I’m thinking my husband is NOT wishing to be more busy in the work of God’s church, but if women are to be quiet and only speak at home he may have to.

I don’t want to be guilty of pulling out scriptures and making them say what I need them to say.  

I fully understand that as women (and men too) our giftings and the way God created us must be tempered with his love, grace and the constant infilling of his spirit so that things will always be done to bring HIM glory. I am trying fervently to understand what God wants women to be in his church and how that really looks?

So I write here, and as I said at the beginning, am hoping to spark discussion that will shine the light brightly on God’s truth.  I thought incorrectly that when I got to the ripe old age of 40 that the Bible would be more clear and that stuff wouldn’t be so murky. 

I am finding that seeking the truth is imperative to my survival as a daughter of God. As a mother of a 13 year old female who asks many of the same hard questions that I do and who mirrors in sometimes scary ways my own nature, I must find what God really says so I can help her find her foundation in Him.

There is no doubt in my mind that each and every one of us is specially designed and created with value and purpose!

I’d love to hear your thoughts!

Choosing Rest

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Exodus 33:14 NIV  The Lord replied, My presence will go with you and I will give you rest

 

 

Who among us really gets enough rest?  

I’ve been engulfed in the hustle and bustle of raising children for nearly 14 years. 

Rest has not been high on my list of priorities.  

In the midst of normal mommy life chaos, my most recent years have been filled with my own unexpected illness, week long hospitalization and multiple surgeries that have forced me to sit and rest. 

This has been quite a stretch for my extroverted, type A personality.  

After all, there are meals to be cooked, meetings to be attended, windows to be cleaned, playdates to be had, people to talk to….

I most certainly don’t have time to rest. 

As the season has continued however, I am learning the value of rest and am finding that my forced pause has actually taught me to crave quiet and rest. 

Another gift of my repose has been more time for God’s word.

Did you know that rest is mentioned over 200 times in the Bible?

Exodus 17 tells of the Israelites going to battle with Amalek.  Elderly Moses sits up on a hill overlooking the battle. When he holds his arms up, Israel is victorious.  When he gets tired, his arms drop. Israel begins to lose the battle. He needs rest. Finally, his good buddies Aaron and Hur roll up a stone for him to sit on and take a stance at his sides, each holding up an arm.   Israel prevails. God’s blessing through Moses resting gives Israel victory over their evil Amalekite neighbors. 

King David spoke of needing rest as he grieved the rebellion of his son Absolom.  Psalm 55:6 ESV says “Oh that I had wings like the dove!  I would fly away and be at rest.”  Wouldn’t we all like to do that at times? 

Even Jesus, our divine, yet also human Saviour spoke of needing rest.   Mark 6 unfolds the time period around him choosing his disciples and hearing of his cousin John’s beheading.  Near the end of the chapter, Mark 6:30 NIV, he invites his disciples to “come away with me to a quiet place and get some rest”.  He understood the need for physical rest and modeled it well for his disciples. 

The story of Mary and Martha (Luke 11) showcases Mary choosing rest, quiet at Jesus’ feet, gleaning from Him what she could while he is right there in front of her. 

We are not put here to be lazy.  I am learning however, that my list of accomplishments grows when I am intentional, taking the time to rest, both physically and at the feet of my Saviour. 

Beautiful Words

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Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones. Proverbs 16:24

The knots in my stomach got a little tighter. I felt my heart breaking into teeny tiny pieces as I sat with my husband listening to the angry voice rage on and on at the other end of the phone line. The room filled with tension as the voice got louder and more shrill, carelessly tossing words full of insult and accusation about as freely as the falling rain. They surrounded us both like a heavy blanket, rendering one nearly unable to breathe from the sharp pain of unsuspected attack.

The days following overflowed with numb exhaustion as we grappled with the aftermath. The line between truth and the dump truck load of accusation and condemnation that had just bombarded our tender, raw souls was barely discernible.

Sleep was laced with the uncertainty of how the situation would resolve. One morning in the last hour before dawn, and before the house was stirring I sat, Bible in hand, searching for God’s thoughts on our current perilous position. My husband groggily came to inquire what I was doing. We discussed the importance of proper response to words that are not life giving in nature and were able to do some combat against the presence of those recent hateful words and their affect on our lives using the simple truths of the Bible.

God’s word is full of instruction about words. Not only are words filled with either curses or blessings but we are told we will give account of every unnecessary word we speak. Proverbs 12:18 says “The words of the reckless pierce like swords, but the tongue of the wise brings healing“

Unbeknownst to me, God was already working to bring healing to the wounds I had received from those angry accusing words. We’d stopped at one of our favorite fast food spots to eat after our daughter’s volleyball game. As I was finishing, an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in 2 decades came up to my table and began to visit. As she walked away she hugged me and whispered “you are really looking well, you look so at peace…” She could not have known the turmoil happening in my inner soul or the pain that threatened every conversation with tears, but God did and orchestrated our meeting precisely.

The rest of that week was filled with more incidents just like that. Time after time, God sent people into my path to be honey to my hurting soul and remind me of his love and divine plan for me. Since, He’s been showing me the words He says about me in his divine word.

He says I am free from condemnation (Romans 8:1,2).

He says I have HIS spirit (Romans 5:5)

He says I am chosen (Isaiah 43:1, Psalm 139:13-16)

He says I am loved (Ephesians 2:4-9)

He says I am worthy (Matthew 10:31)

Scripture is packed full of great and precious promises so this list could go on and on. But I am thinking HIS words about me are so much more valid then whatever the enemy seeks to throw at me.

I continue my quest for finding God’s truth about the power of words and hope I can truly live according to Proverbs 31:26 She opens her mouth with wisdom,
And on her tongue is the law of kindness.

Beautiful Scars

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What if I told you I had a marvelous tip for dealing with scars?

If I’d have known at the beginning of this summer how many scars I’d soon acquire, it would have been discouraging.  2 years of illness and a previous major surgery and subsequent hospitalization with sepsis and staph had left me anxious, constantly wondering what may happen next. 

At 44, I didn’t desire the unappealing reality of instant menopause which happened as a result of a needed but unexpected hysterectomy and my first set of scars of the summer.  That surgery revealed a large thyroid tumor resulting in my 2nd surgery in eight weeks, and yet another super visible scar.

Aside from physical scars, our family has been walking through some deep scar producing valleys emotionally, that have uprooted our family in indescribable ways. 

I have cried out to God asking for help deciphering  what lessons we are missing to make this season of pain and scarring seem endless. 

Sometimes He’s seemed silent.  

Mostly though, He has brought sweet reminders of HIS presence and love for me.  

As I’ve sat resting from my last surgery,  I’ve contemplated more deeply wounding and scars in general.

Jesus has scars. 

His scars show evidence of his love for me and God’s divine plan to draw us to himself.  

How amazing is that?  

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

My scars are as nothing in comparison.  However as I think back over the love and care God has shown me through their obtaining, it has changed my perception.  

My thyroid scar, for example, is there because a CT Scan tech took a different picture then he was supposed to.  Instead of stopping the camera at my shoulders, he went to my jawbone which captured my tumor perfectly. 

Coincidence?  I don’t think so! 

The emotional scars from our family’s struggles have brought blessings too.  Meeting Godly new friends and figuring out our God placed passions and fun ways to pursue them,  may not have happened in the scar-free zone we were comfortable in.

In reality I don’t have a physical cream or potion to offer to make scars disappear. 

However, I can attest that changing perception has helped me see my scars differently.  

Looking at our scars as gifts we can thank God for, may just make the process of living with them easier. 

I’ve had this song on repeat….

1 Peter 2:24 ESV

He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds (scars) you have been healed.

5 years

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The darker the night, the brighter the stars, the deeper the grief, the closer is God…

Fyoder Dostoevsky

I often wondered how I might feel as this date approaches. 5 years. 5 long years. 5 years since God decided it was time for one of his gifts to come back to Him. I had thought prior to this part of our journey, that I would not be able to physically bear the loss. But I have survived. We have survived through God and his strength alone.

It’s hard to know how and when grief will present itself again and crush you into a crumbled heap reliving the nightmare that never ends. I have not cried as I did on a daily basis for quite sometime, until today. It feels only natural to go back through the detail of the memories of the event and the days surrounding it.

One day our life was normal. We walked along together.

Then grief came and we experienced death and our lives were overturned, upset forever.

I was always one who stayed as far away from death as possible. I thought people who took pictures of death were the oddest creatures alive. (deceased in casket etc) But on this side of death and grief, it looks different. And though the pictures were the hardest to look at for the first while, they are strangely comforting now. **warning: stop reading here if you are like I used to be…pics to follow. Several different persons took the photos in this blog. Evonda Marner, Janice Marner, Shawna Riche, Alaynna Schwartz, Natalie Yutzy….

This is the hardest to look at. I can still feel deeply the inability to breathe. I can remember the people around and family and friends singing “Safe In the Arms of Jesus” as the last machine was unplugged. How quickly her little body grew stiff, is a sensation I wish I could erase. And then we had to sign the hundreds of papers ok-ing donation of her eyes, her tissue, which never happened due to infection. Janice stayed with her as she got cleaned up and got all the wires taken off. Then it was time for final goodbyes before she was taken for autopsy.

Then there was the walk from the hospital to our van. I kept feeling lost. So lost. I only had 3 children with me and I often said that feeling is like stepping out the door and realizing you have no clothes on or leaving for town and forgetting your purse….

Funeral planning. Ahhh that part. It’s not natural. Children plan their parent’s funeral. Not vice versa. It’s seriously the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Thankfully Janice and friend Karma did a lot of thinking and planning for us. Thinking about capturing her memory added a lot of flavors to the week and to the actual funeral service. Pink and red toe nails, bare feet, minnie mouse and tidbits from Frozen brought bits of reprieve to the nonstop tears. And the friends and family who came from everywhere. Though my memory is a bit clouded the beauty of the love and care we were surrounded with shown through the pictures is a tribute to family and friends.

The autopsy drug out the time and made us wait several days for the funeral. My 93 year old old order amish grandfather insisted on coming which was so special. He and his sister Rachel were among the few left from their generation. We saw well over a thousand people at the visitation, which took it’s toll on my body and I remember little of the later hours, except my uncle Ira telling people to move aside so they could wheel me out in a wheel chair because the world was spinning and black.

My 93 year old Grandpa
  • Grandpa’s sister Rachel. She lost a young child once too and kept checking on Abby…

Then it was time for the funeral and the longest, hardest walk no mama should ever have to take.

I never noticed how my sister Janice and I look like one person here. But that woman did my breathing for me during the darkest part.

Some of us sat barefoot for the service. Someone brought a recliner in for Grandpa.

The service was filled with special tributes including my brother and sister’s beautiful rendition of Jesus Loves me. Not sure how to put it in here correctly but click on link to here it….

https://www.facebook.com/dorothy.miller.142/videos/vb.1751572627/4338775884869/?type=3

Then it was time to say our final goodbyes.

We ended the day with the release of a bunch of red balloons.

Life has gone on. God has walked with us. With each passing day we are adapting to our new normal forever remembering the zesty 3 almost 4 year old who will forever be a part of our favorite memories.

Abby Marie 9/14/10 ~ 7/15/14

Between Two Camps

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When I first started writing in public places, I set my heart on writing from real places about real things, real emotions, real life, hoping to focus on the blessings and finding joy in life. Lately, I’ve been accused of airing dirty laundry, of speaking before thinking and being to critical, just to name a few lesser favorable opinions, so I have thought long and hard about this post and I am not out to make jabs at anyone, just kind of thinking out loud on somethings I have been pondering.

I am a big back ground person so bear with me as I get to the camps part and please hear me. I am not here for pity party or complaining. **For the record, many of you have told me how brave and strong I am, I am really not all that….

Photo by: Kali Miller

Since Abby died almost 5 years ago, it has sometimes seemed as if our life goes from one crisis to another. I am not all that fond of crisis mode. The last 2.5 years have been especially difficult. I got sick in the fall of 2017 and stayed in that state for 18 long months and during that time nearly died of sepsis and staph infection.

I was still recovering from the long illness, when one of our children became the center of some really ugly circumstances that should not have happened and have ripped at the very core of who our family is. As we have stood with our beautiful daughter, defending what we shouldn’t have to defend, the reality of sin staying hidden repeatedly reminds us of our constant need of Jesus and his light to shine into our dark circumstances.

As this particular situation has drug on and on with seemingly no resolution, it has taken it’s toll on all of us stress wise. Thinking it was just stress and the residue from how sick I had been I ignored my body trying to tell me it had more trouble, until it became apparent I would need surgery, the lovely female kind. Not quite 2 weeks ago, that happened. As I have spent time at home recovering, a trip to the ER revealed more potential scary in the form of a what the dr called a large, suspicious mass on my thyroid along with a few smaller nodules. I have excellent lab work and a 90% chance of it not being cancer but it’s a little unnerving none the less. So now I wait for more appointments with more doctors, more tests, a biopsy, results….

Here’s where the camp part comes in.

As we have have walked on in our journey, prayer is the key factor that has kept us sane. As each event has unfolded many well meaning persons have offered wise words, books, scriptures and podcasts on prayer, in addition to standing with us and actually praying.

As I see it, there are basically 2 kinds of pray-ers. There is one camp that claims and proclaims that all of their requests will be answered in the requested format. The other is more laid back in approach. Everything is asked in the “if it be thy will mode”. Both “camps” tend to be radical about their chosen view point and one can quickly feel confused or even guilty about one’s choices of how to pray.

I remember sitting with friends after Abby’s funeral and hearing them share about people they knew who had had a young child hurt in an accident. Over the course of the hours where it appeared the child might die, the parents did the “claiming prayers” and the child pulled thru. Unbeknownst to them, the child would grow up to totally reject God and his way and died in a drunk driving accident after which the parent’s grief spoke out on how they would have been much more sure of her eternal end had she left as an innocent child. Now I know that story sounds almost prudish and could be perceived as legalistic in nature. I also know that scripture itself says “you have not because you ask not…” and “by his stripes you are healed..” I have also personally seen God move in mighty ways answering both kinds of prayers. He is THE God of miracles.

I am becoming more and more inclined to think that it is more important THAT we pray and maybe not necessarily such a big deal HOW we pray.

So as I sit on the eve of another week filled with doctor’s appointments, I will continue to trust in the one who already knows the outcome even if it means I have to go back and trust all over again every single minute. And I humbly ask for your prayers, however you choose to pray.

I have also found great comfort and distraction from my own stress in praying for others. So I am availing myself here in a public format to pray for what you are facing. Comment here or message me on the link on my homepage or via facebook or instagram.

The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much…

You Asked For It – Installment #3 “Sheri’s Secret Cheesecake”

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Our family just got back from a week at the ocean, which is our very favorite time and place. We usually go in the month of May which means I always try to create something extra special and super yummy for my baby sister Rhoda’s birthday. She usually asks for my cheesecake. I am always delighted with her choice and haul all the stuff along so I can make it just right. This year since my kids decided they actually like cheesecake, I figured I should make 2 so I made one in a 9 inch pan and another in a 10 inch.

Years back when I worked at the same little tea shop that gave me the inspiration for scones, the owner, Sheri, would usually always have some form of this cheesecake on hand. We always joked about her delicious recipes being top secret hence the “secret” in my title. She had such neat ways to make recipes pop with flavor. Her add in items were sometimes surprising like the white wine in this recipe but always seemed to take the recipes up a notch. While I am not sure if this is actually her recipe or not somewhere over the years, I dubbed it hers and always think of her when I use it.

Making a good cheesecake seems to rest on a few precise items. Time is essential. Then a good springform pan, quality heavy whipping cream and a whole lot of love round out the essentials. A good food processor is helpful for making the perfect crust.

Without further ado…here we go! For the crust I love to use what I have. If I want chocolate flavors, I use a packet of oreos and blend till smooth in the food processor. The oreo frosting serves as glue to hold the crust together. Simply press into bottom of pan. I also love using graham crackers or animal crackers or a combination of both for a plain crust. You will need about 1 to 1 1/2 cups of crumbs dependent on how much crust you like. I then add about a tablespoon of soft butter and mix well then press into pan. I do not prebake my crusts.

  • 3- 8 oz cream cheese softened
  • 1 1/4 c sugar
  • 1 t vanilla
  • 1 1/2 t white wine
  • 4 eggs
  • 1 c sour cream
  • 1 c heavy whipping cream

Beat the cream cheese, sugar and vanilla & wine together. Add the 4 eggs individually, beating well after each addition. While still beating, add sour cream and heavy cream. Continue beating till evenly mixed making sure there are no lumps. Pour carefully over crust. I wrap aluminum foil carefully around the bottom edge of the pan and then place on a cookie sheet with a bit of water which seems to help in the baking process. Bake at 350 for 1 hour. Avoid the urge to peak as this could make your cake fall or crack. Turn off oven and allow to rest for 20 minutes. Then place a wooden spoon handle in the oven door and allow cheese cake to cool completely before taking out of the oven. Run knife around edge and open the springform. Carefully remove. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Makes excellent left overs if you can sneak some into hiding.

We love all sorts of toppings including, fresh fruit, chocolate, caramel, pie filling and more. Another favorite is adding 1 cup of mini chocolate chips into the batter.

Practice makes perfect! I never get weary of experimenting. I hope you enjoy this as much as our family has!