Oh. . . whatever that means

Over this last year, my daughter has grown exponentially in her faith. 

She experienced the manifest presence of God during the loss of a child last summer. Her family surrounded her with love. Girlfriends came with love, flowers, food, hugs, and encouragement. It was the loveliest thing I’ve ever witnessed. She healed because of love.

Shortly afterwards she became pregnant again. The miscarriage had been hard on her, physically and emotionally. The new pregnancy began with her in a deep state of exhaustion. For months I saw her struggling to keep up with everyday chores and two small children. Again, her girlfriends reached out and helped.

At Thanksgiving my daughter wanted to give back some of the love she had received. She invited a young woman and her two children to spend the day with us since her husband was deployed, serving our country. What a day of blessings. The house was filled with wonderful aromas and children laughing.

As my daughter’s strength returned, she began ministering to women whose husbands were deployed. She cooked and delivered countless meals. Her house was often filled with extra children to give these women a few sacred hours to get away. For one young mom, my daughter kept her children every Monday for a couple of hours, and then had them stay for dinner that night.

With each month, I witnessed my daughter getting less fearful of another miscarriage and more excited and hopeful for a new baby. But her energy level did not recover. It was evident. As the pregnancy continued she slowed, but never stopped.

A month before her due date, her mother-in-law found out she had breast cancer. Through my daughter and son-in-law’s insistence, his mother and father came to them to seek surgery and care. While at their home the father-in-law got pneumonia and was hospitalized. Dana worked through her exhaustion and with the help of a sister-in-law  managed to offer a comfortable home and plenty of love during their illnesses. 

One morning my daughter got up and went to the bathroom to brush her teeth. No water. After checking the other bathroom and kitchen, she realized something was wrong. She contacted the water department and within a couple of hours servicemen were at the door. A water line under the house had burst. The side yard flooded. And my daughter had a house full of company.

After a couple of hours, the serviceman knocked on the front door. “Everything’s fine.” 

My daughter stood at the door, two small children hanging from either side of her, her belly bulging, and offered him thanks.

Before he turned to leave, he pointed at her belly, and told her, “Good luck with the little one.”

Smiling my daughter offered her natural response, “It’s all in God’s hands!”

His response startled her. “Oh . . . whatever that means.”

More than anything, she watched his face sink and shoulders lower as he walked back to his truck.

At this point, I get a call and hear the details of the story.

“Mama, that really bothered me. He looked so sad.”

“You just planted a seed,” I said.

The lengthy pause begged an explanation. “You never know what someone is going through or where their life has taken them. When you raised the Almighty’s name to him, he reacted. We don’t know why, but you can pray you planted a seed that will plant deeper. We never know about seeds and the ground they fall on. We’re just supposed to plant.”

Planting seeds. 

Assisting a mom who has lost a baby. Reaching out with meals. Taking care of someone’s little ones to give them a break. Always remembering to give God the glory. It’s all seed planting.

I wonder where you will go today to plant seeds of faith.

God bless you!!!

Planting Seeds for Jesus

“Lord, what do you want me to do for You?”

For years this was a recurring theme in my life. I felt I wanted to do more to tell people about Jesus. But how? Then I heard the pastor say, “The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few.” Those nine words convicted me.

And now years later, I am on mission constantly. But it started out slow. At first, I felt intimidated about going into new places and talking about God with people who didn’t know me. I talked to my pastor, Sunday school teachers and church family about opportunities to be the hands and feet for Jesus. At this point it wasn’t the options, it was my insecurities that held me back. 

That’s when a new friend said, “Pray about it.” 

Pray? Just pray? So I did.

Back then, we moved a lot with my husband’s job. For about four moves I prayed, but did nothing more than gather information and help out in the “safe zone” at church.

On our fifth move during our first visit to a new church a woman came up to me, introduced herself, and asked me if I’d like to attend a seminar with her to learn about volunteer opportunities in the community. Her smile and friendly demeanor was irresistible. Leading me by the hand was just what I needed. With her enthusiasm and encouragement, I jumped right in.

For the next nine or ten moves, God used me in different ways. Sometimes I couldn’t believe where He led me. With each mission, I grew more and more in my faith because I began to see the tremendous need in every community. And the side benefit was the bountiful blessings I received over and over again.

It’s about planting seeds.

I’m spinning thinking of all the opportunities God has given to me to witness  and extend my hands, feet and heart to those in need. I call it boots on the ground, pounding the dirt, and readying it for seed planting.

I used to think planting seeds also meant I would see the harvest. Once I realized we all plant seeds and few bring in the harvest, then I became a seed farmer, planting every chance I got.

It’s amazing how God has brought me to fertile ground for planting seeds. You don’t need an agenda; it’s the places you go every day. Walmart. CVS. Doctor’s offices. Fast food lines. Food Lion. Post Office. Neighbors. McDonalds. Nursing Homes. Hospitals. Exercise facilities. Public restrooms (please don’t laugh). And the list goes on and on. 

My head is swimming with stories of all the people I’ve talked to while waiting in lines. I’m always standing somewhere, waiting. I think God got tired of my fidgeting, and dropped a hint, “Do what I would do in this situation.” (Don’t you love it when that happens?)

Well, why not? So I began making eye contact with everyone.

Then I ran into the people who refused to look my way. I understood. I’ve had to work on myself for years to keep my head up, gaze scanning. But lately it seems it’s getting harder to engage folks. So . . . I’ve figured out a way to win them over. If they’ve got a child, talk to the child. Even if the adult never gives you the time of day, the kid loves it.

Sometimes I’ll get people’s attention by asking them about something in their cart. “I haven’t tried that one. Is it any good?”

I’ve commented on clothes and cute hairdos (even the blue, pink, and red ones). I’ve helped the elderly unload their groceries. I’ve commented on how beautiful someone is or how tired they look. The last question gets more attention. People need to know people see them and care. I’ve gotten lots of hugs by just caring. 

But I have to admit something . . . every time I reach out isn’t always fruitful, but enough times are to keep me using the waiting times wisely. And . . . I always get a blessing or a laugh, even if it’s a child’s smile or their tongue extended in annoyance.

So the next couple of posts will be about reaching out and planting seeds. It’s actually contagious. Recently I’ve had two people reach out to me. Both times I was distracted, failing to do my intended purpose. What a joy when these two people bumped into me with gentle dialogue. Nothing in particular was discussed, but they put the joy back into my heart just by their presence. It was a God reminder that we need to share our joy, smiles and encouragement with others.

Reach out today. I’m sure you will be waiting somewhere. Don’t fidget. Start planting seeds.

God Bless You!!!

Not Easily Silenced

Christians are being persecuted all over the world. We used to think persecution of Christians was only in third world countries. That has changed. Recently an Oregon couple was fined $135,000 because they refused, based on their Christian faith, to bake a wedding cake for a same sex couple who were getting married. Other examples have spread across the news. Americans who believe in Jesus Christ should expect their Christian values to come under intense scrutiny. They may even be denied. The Bible tells us to be prepared.

I wanted to post one of Dr. David Jeremiah’s messages from July 3, 2015 "Turning Points". I pray it will mean as much to you as it did to me.

Hebrews 13:3 “Remember the prisoners as if chained with them—those who are mistreated—since you yourselves are in the body also.”

            Christians around the world are dying for their faith, and multitudes are suffering some of the most intense persecution in history. One believer in the nation of Eritrea was overheard asking, “Do our brothers in the rest of the world know how badly we’re suffering? Does the West even know we’re in prison and dying?”

            It’s vital to stay informed about the persecuted church and to pray for our brothers and sisters who are behind bars, under the lash, and in some cases literally on the cross.

            It’s also crucial to remain strong in the face of opposition we ourselves may encounter. The same devil who is trying to destroy the church in some areas is trying to intimidate Christians elsewhere. But believers are not easily silenced. We have the Gospel in our hearts, the Spirit in our souls, and the Cross in our hands, and the return of Christ on our minds. We must stand strong in the face of opposition because Christ is returning for us soon.

            Let’s pray for the persecuted church, and let’s preach the Word and hold high the Cross whatever the cost.

“The completion of the Great Commisson will include great suffering, but eternity will prove it is worth the price.” David Platt, in the foreword to The Insanity of God

Stand firm, stay in God’s Word, and keep vigilance! God bless you!

Follow Me: Book Review

“If anyone should come after me,

he must deny himself,

pick up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Luke 9:23

Kyle Idleman slammed us with his book, Not a Fan in 2011. He spurred us to examine ourselves and our relationship with Jesus Christ: fan or follower. It’s about denial and selflessness, purpose and meaningful living.

Shaken and still reeling from Idleman’s confirming examination, I tackled David Platt’s Follow Me: A Call to Die. A Call to Live.

“Jesus beckons us down a hard road,

and the word Jesus uses for “hard”

 is associated in other parts of the Bible

 with pain, pressure, tribulation, and persecution.

The way of Jesus is hard to follow, and it’s hated by many.”

These words stall your breath if you let their truth wrap around your consciousness. We’ve grown accustomed to soaking in the “love and compassion” of Jesus. The sermons on forgiveness and grace let us leave our congregations with a fresh start for the week.

During the 60’s when I began going to church there was a lot of passionate hellfire and brimstone sermons. I saw God as a judge and juror. When the pastor said, “Do not . . .”, I believed it and tried not to commit the sin. There were rumblings from the congregation for more scriptural references to love, but by and large the focus was on not sinning.

But it seems the last two decades the sermons have grown softer in tone. People didn’t want to be chastised or feel guilty about sin in their lives. Church attendance began to drop. To regain membership, the churches and pastors began giving us the message of love and acceptance, almost to exclusion. Church became a “love-in” and God the flower thrower.

Now it sounds like I’m judging. Heaven forbid, No! We need a healthy balance to understand the cost of our faith, our purpose, and realize hell is real. The increasing violence in our own country has got to bring our sensibilities around to what the Bible truly says. It has never been one sided. There is as much scripture on love, grace and forgiveness as there is admonishment, judgment, and hell.

David Platt uses the word “intentional” over and over again in his book. Intentional in seeking God’s Word. Intentional in taking steps to follow Jesus. Intentional to fill our minds with the Truth in God’s Word. Intentional in worshipping, praying, fasting, and giving, and becoming disciple makers.

Intentional means to do something on purpose.

            “If anyone comes after me. . .” If we decide to seek Jesus, we need to understand a few things. We might begin by getting to know Him better by digging into scripture.

            We must deny ourselves. In a world that expresses “I” and “me” over “we” and “our”, it is going to be hard. Everything in our culture points to the fact that I need filling and refreshing. Nothing you will hear says to give yourself away for the good of others or to the body of Christ. It’s a foreign concept. But you cannot follow when you are leading, searching for your own fulfillment. Denial means to sacrifice one’s own wants or needs, self-denial.

            We must pick up our cross daily. Everyone’s cross is different. One cross that most of us have is being overly busy. Too busy to study the Word. Too busy to pray. Some might have a cross of addiction or anger or gambling or (you fill in the blank).

            We must seek to follow (“if anyone should follow me”). Completely and with our whole heart, walking behind Jesus, letting the dust kicked up from the Rabbi’s feet softly cover us.

Follow Me. A Call to Die. A Call to Live.

Platt states, “From the start, the promises and privileges of following Jesus with your life were tied to believing Jesus with your mind.”

To follow our Lord and Savior is intentional. We purpose daily to get into God’s Word and realize we are on this earth to serve Him. Our intentional focus will ready us to face the trials, persecution, and sacrifices for our faith in Jesus.

If you want to understand more about the path to being a devoted Christ-follower and disciple maker, I encourage you to read Platt’s book. It’s great material for small group study and Sunday school classes.

In this and all things let our eyes remain on Jesus to keep our path straight.

Happenstance Meeting? Maybe not.

July 4^th was beautiful. The downtown Washington, NC waterfront held an exceptional charm—Carolina blue skies, boats careening slowly down the Pamlico River, a warm breeze, and Saturday morning market! Fruits, vegetables, local honey, cut flowers, fresh baked breads, cookies, pies, apple chips, mango salsa and more. The smells, aromas, and local flavor felt welcoming. People chatted. Dogs barked. Soft tones of music drifting in from anchored boats completed the coastal tone.

As I went up to each vendor’s table, I talked. Couldn’t help myself! Then I spied a couple sitting at the back, away from everyone. I walked past them at first, and then walked back, going right up to their table. On my way, I decided to ask them who to contact about setting up a table. Someone had put the notion in my head that I should sell my books there over the summer. I got the information and left.

Dallas, Ms. Lillie (our Boston terrier), and I continued perusing down the waterfront area. But I kept having this nagging feeling to go back to see that couple. I wanted to thank them for their warm smiles and check out what was on their vendor’s table. 

On our way back through the market area, I asked Dallas to wait while I thanked the couple. Their warm smiles greeted me again. After giving my belated thank you, I asked them to tell me about the flyers on their table. They were one of the pioneer leaders in getting funding for the Washington Waterfront Underground Railroad Museum. Naturally I was intrigued.

Our conversation went from Civil War activities to the civil unrest today. From their dialoguing, I knew we were kindred spirits in faith. We talked openly and honestly about the persecution and suffering Christians are facing today in the world. In doing so it brought up the persecution of African American slaves and how the Underground Railroad system saved many lives. We talked about the persecution of the Jews during World War II. I shared with them that I would not be here today had it not been for the perseverance and faith of my ancestors who were held in concentration camps in Nova Scotia and later deposited in swamps in uninhabited areas of Louisiana. Odds of their survival were minimal. But they did, as did all the others.

Verses of scripture wrapped around our heads as we declared the battle was God’s, but we better armor up for the days ahead. And I said to them what I said in an earlier post, while we are on earth Christians must link together as the body of Christ, red and yellow, black and while, and stand firm and tall. More than ever we need to be disciple makers and go to the ends of the earth to tell others about Jesus who gave His all so that all who believe in Him will not perish but have everlasting life.

“Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:58

Never pass up a nudging from the Holy Spirit to talk. You never know who God will place in your path.

God bless you!

I Don't Belong

My last post was a dedication to the fallen soldiers buried in Luxembourg, and my emotional response to their death and burial in a foreign land. Patriotism and nationalism have always run deep in me.

But as I grow older, I’m viewing things differently. Our culture is changing at a rapid pace from God-fearing to God-denying and rebelling. I cannot merge my faith in Jesus Christ with the counterculture I live within.

If someone had told me twenty, fifteen, ten, or five years ago about the atrocities I hear about today in my precious America, I would have openly defied their heresy and treason.

            Human trafficking rising at alarming rates.

            Unwarranted killings against police officers in major US cities.

            Americans signing up with militant groups like ISIS.

            SCOTUS voting to mandate states to marry same sex couples.

            Christians as a minority.

            Technology increasingly becoming more important in our lives.

            Presidents who don’t get elected on character and capability, but dishonesty and political           correctness.

            Majority rule has become a collapsing principle as minority groups take public opinion             polls to an alarming consensus.

            Pornography on every level is increasing and accepted . . . 70+ million women readers             put the book “Fifty Shades of Gray” on every household tongue.

Thank heaven for the Bible and my faith that tell me I am just a sojourner here.

“It’s not home when men sell their souls

and the taste of power is sweet.

Where wrong is right and neighbors fight

while the hungry are dying in the street.

Where kids are abused and women used;

and the weak are crushed by the strong.

Nations gone made, Jesus is sad, and I don’t belong.”

(Buddy Greene’s “I Don’t Belong”)

My grandmother once said that dying was not the worst thing that could happen to a person. She’s right. As we age, we begin to look toward our eternal home because this place feels foreign; it doesn’t feel like home anymore.

 “For this world is not our permanent home; we are looking forward to a home yet to come.” (Hebrews 13:14)

“I don’t belong, but while I’m here,

I’ll be living like I’ve nothing to lose and

while I breathe, I’ll just believe

my Lord is going to see me through.

I’ll not be deceived by earth’s make believe,

I’ll close my ears to her siren song.

By praising His name; I’m not ashamed

cause I don’t belong.”

(Buddy Greene’s “I Don’t Belong”)

I don’t belong here with the changes this country is making. But, while I’m looking forward to my eternal home, I have to remember God needs me to be present here as long as I’ve got breath in my body. I have praising and worshipping to do. I have people to see in order to spread the Word about Jesus. I have Bible studies to write and teach. I have to stay vigilant and firm, armored up and ready to hit the battlefield when Satan rears his ugly head.

Patriotism and nationalism may still have a soft spot in my heart, but my allegiance is in God’s Kingdom. I’m just a foreigner passing through on my way to Glory!!!

God bless you all!

Embracing the Red, White, and Blue

I realize July 4^th has come and gone, but our love of country isn’t about one day. It’s about a feeling that rushes in whenever we hear the national anthem sung or see a flag waving against a Carolina blue sky or wake up to a tragedy similar to September 11, 2001 and feel Americans come together like a giant wave against terrorism. It’s more than apple pie and Cracker Jacks, baseball and boxing. It’s deeper and deeper still, to the core of who we are and what we are about.

My patriotism was exemplified when my husband and I went to Luxembourg. While we were there, we visited the American Cemetery and Memorial. Situated on fifty acres of land that Luxembourg gave to the U.S. after World War II, it is the final resting place for 5,076 of our military, many of whom lost their lives in the “Battle of the Bulge”. Additionally the names of 371 soldiers are inscribed on two large pylons—young American men who gave their lives in service of their country and lie in unknown graves somewhere in Europe.

When we exited the bus to walk toward the cemetery, I had not spent one moment thinking about anything except the reverence due while visiting the sight. Everyone trailed behind the tour guide in silence. As we rounded the large iron gates into the complex, I stopped cold.

Before me I saw a meticulous manicured lawn with row after row, as far as the eye could see, of white marble crosses. Thousands and thousands of crosses dotting the landscape like stars on a clear night.

Peeling away from the throng of people, I began walking across the soft turf. Now the crosses became real, not just ornaments lining a pristine landscape, but Henry from Pennsylvania, John from West Virginia, Dale from Oklahoma, and Pierre from New York. I read each name, expelling them in a soft swish of air. I began to feel the pain and anguish of every family whose husband, son, uncle, nephew, father or brother never came home—sons of America whose bodies lie across an ocean and thousands of miles from their loved ones and homes. My heart broke over and over again realizing most of their families would never see where their loved ones were buried. Tears welled up and flowed. I wanted to take every soldier home to their families in order to give them closure. As beautiful as the dignitaries had tried to make it, it didn’t feel right.

I found a bench away from the crowds. I needed to get myself together before others gathered around me with questions. I looked out over a field of death . . . man’s insanity . . . injustice . . . of which there were no answers. Then out of the corner of my eye something caught my attention. I turned and looked up seeing Old Glory flying high above the chapel—red, white, and blue waving her banner of valor, victory, and honor. I’ve never been more proud to be an American! Patriotism and pride filled my heart. Looking back over the crosses, I realized the cost each man had paid for me to live in freedom.

And I’m proud to be an American,

where at least I know I’m free.

And I won’t forget the men who died,

who gave that right to me.

And I gladly stand up,

next to you and defend her still today.

Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land,

God bless the USA!

It Ain't The Newlywed Show!

We’ve been married 45 years. You would think we’d know each other better than those couples who used to be on the Newlywed show. Well, guess again.

My husband and I recently attended a church marriage seminar for seniors to strengthen our communication skills. Lovely idea! And so needed. He declares I mumble. I vow he can’t even hear himself. He says I never told him. I steam he doesn’t listen. The seminar was a great idea until . . .

            The moderator began asking questions.

            It was all fun and games in the beginning. We listened to other couples answer their questions with ease and comfort. We all laughed, ribbing our church friends that they must have rehearsed their answers. None of the questions were hard. None of them were intimate or personal. Most were common, everyday questions everyone knew how to answer. You know the break-the-ice kind of questions.

            We were in the middle of a hardy, raucous time with our friends when the instructor threw a question our way, “Sir, can you name your wife’s favorite flower?”

            You should have seen my husband. Proud plastered itself all over his face. A smile spread from earlobe to earlobe. I must have smirked, feeling girlish, knowing he had the right answer.

            He touched my hand. Tears welled. With firm conviction, he loudly declared, “It’s Pillsbury!”

            The room grew quiet. The speaker looked puzzled. Everyone turned our way.

            After what seemed like an eternity, I gasped, shoved his hand away, and said without one stitch of hesitation, “Fool! I use King Arthur!”

            Laughter erupted. Our faces grew brilliant red. My friend who was sitting next to me cupped her hands around her mouth, leaned in toward me and yelled, “He said flower!”

            My husband and I looked at one another and shrugged our shoulders.

            She yelled louder, “He said flower!”

            By now, we were getting riled up. How dare she contradict what we had answered. Was something wrong with the woman’s hearing?

            When she screamed it out a third time, we both stood up in unison, and walked out the door, huffed up and angry. Once we’d cleared the church doors, my husband flailed his arms, angry as a bantam rooster. “Well, you can tell who needed that seminar. And it sure wasn’t us!”

            Trekking behind him, I agreed wholeheartedly, “Bunch of fools! You can tell they can’t hear a blessed thing! Did you see how that woman acted?”

            My beloved whirled on me, shouting, “Acted? You thought I was acting? I lovingly gave you the correct answer. Are you trying to start a battle with me?”

            Clearly we needed to head back into the seminar, but by the time I recovered from his attack, he was halfway down the block, struggling to open someone else’s car door. Guess it’s not the right time to remind him that we drove to church with the lady who insulted us.

            Rather than tackle the problem further, I sat down on the church steps. Looking up, I noticed the seminar banner strung between two Dogwoods.

Marriage Seminar for Seniors

Improve your communication.

Learn new ways to problem solve.

Grow closer.

Gain new insight into your relationship.

            As I finished reading the last sentence, I felt an arm go around my shoulders.

            “You okay?” my husband asked.

            I sniffed. “Yeah, I guess so.”

            “I can’t get in the car,” he remarked. “Guess we need to call a cab?”

            Looking over at the love of my life, I nodded.

            Helping each other up, our hands slipped comfortably into one another’s as we walked away.

            “What’s for supper?” my husband asked.

            “Eggs and toast.”

            “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

Communication skills?

Is it possible that part of communication is just being comfortable with one another without talking? Or being kinder as our hearing diminishes?

Do you need to think about your communication skills?

God Bless You!

Ragged Old Flag: One Nation Under God!

 

Ragged Old Flag

By Johnny Cash

I walked through a county courthouse square,

on a park bench an old man was sittin' there.

I said, "Your old court house is kinda run down.”

He said, "Naw, it'll do for our little town.”

I said, "Your old flag pole has leaned a little bit,

and that's a Ragged Old Flag you got hangin' on it".

 

He said, "Have a seat", and I sat down.

"Is this the first time you've been to our little town?"

I said, "I think it is"

He said "I don't like to brag, but we're kinda proud of

that Ragged Old Flag

 

"You see, we got a little hole in that flag there,

when Washington took it across the Delaware.

And it got powder burned the night Francis Scott Key sat watching it,

writing "Oh Say Can You See".

And it got a bad rip in New Orleans,

with Packingham & Jackson tugging at its seams.

 

And it almost fell at the Alamo

beside the Texas flag, but she waved on through.

She got cut with a sword at Chancellorsville,

and she got cut again at Shiloh Hill.

There was Robert E. Lee and Beauregard and Bragg,

and the south wind blew hard on that Ragged Old Flag

 

“On Flanders Field in World War I,

she got a big hole from a Bertha Gun.

She turned blood red in World War II.

She hung limp and low, by the time it was through.

She was in Korea, and Vietnam.

She went where she was sent by her Uncle Sam.

 

She waved from our ships upon the briny foam,

and now they've about quit wavin' her back here at home.

In her own good land, she's been abused -

she's been burned, dishonored, denied an' refused.

And the government for which she stands

has been scandalized throughout out the land.

And she's getting threadbare, and she's wearin' thin,

but she's in good shape, for the shape she's in.

Cause she's been through the fire before

and I believe she can take a whole lot more.

 

"So we raise her up every morning,

and we bring her down slow every night,

We don't let her touch the ground,

and we fold her up right.

On second thought, I do like to brag,

cause I'm mighty proud of

that Ragged Old Flag"

Happy July 4^th

God bless America!

 

 

Forty-Five Years And Counting!

 

 

July 3, 1970

Looking at this picture, you would think we had a shotgun wedding! How sad are these two young people? I’m embarrassed. Could I make excuses? It was July 3^rd. The temperature had to have been 90 inside the church. Did they even have air conditioning back then? I don’t remember. But I do remember when we walked out of the service, the flower shop owners were waiting to pick up their almost wilted flowers. Mom decided renting flowers was the way to go. When you don’t have a plug nickel to your name, you figure it out the best way you can. (Mom always said that.)

Forty-five years later, we are still together, hopefully looking happier.

Looking back, I stand amazed at how God has used us. Those two young people in that picture didn’t have a clue about life. All they knew was they loved one another. And that’s all we know today. We love one another, and we love God more. It was built on the very thing Christ promised us – struggles, trials, and following Jesus when we couldn’t see the path. I am so grateful!

Go back and look at your wedding picture? What memories does it bring to mind?

God bless you!

 

 

I Just Got Dumped Brownie Bars

 

Okay . . . I had to get this marvelous brownie recipe out before the holiday weekend. It is fabulous! Print it off and enjoy every morsel. God bless you! Happy July 4th!

I Just Got Dumped Brownie Bars

Layer #1 Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough

½ cup (1 stick) butter, softened to room temperature

½ cup light brown sugar

½ cup white granulated sugar

1 large egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 and ½ cups all-purpose flour

¼ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon baking powder

½ cup chocolate chips

 Layer #2

15 Golden Oreos or Regular Oreos or alternate the two

Layer #3 Brownie

10 Tablespoons (1 and ¼ sticks) butter, melted

1 cup white granulated sugar

2 large eggs

¾ cup cocoa powder, unsweetened

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

½ cup all-purpose flour

¼ teaspoon salt

 

Topping: Chocolate Ganache

 

½ cup chocolate chips

1 tablespoon shortening

1 tablespoon heavy cream

 

Also Caramel Sauce to garnish top – buy your favorite brand.

 

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees and line an 8X8 baking dish with aluminum foil. Lightly spray pan with Pam. Set aside.

2. Layer #1 Chocolate Chip Dough – In a large mixing bowl, cream the butter, light brown sugar, and white granulated sugar.

3. Add in the egg and vanilla extract and mix. Slowly add in the all-purpose flour ½ cup at a time and mix thoroughly.

4. Add in the salt and baking powder. Fold in the chocolate chips.

5. Spread the cookie dough over the baking dish. Make sure the layer is even.

6. Add the Oreos on top of the cookie dough layer.

7. Brownie Layer – Combine the melted butter, sugar, eggs, and cocoa powder. Mix together.

8. Add in the vanilla extract, flour, and salt.

9. Spread the brownie layer on top of the Oreo layer and make sure it is even.

10. Bake for 35-40 minutes. Insert a toothpick in the middle and if it comes out clean; it is done.

11. Allow the brownies to completely cool.

12. Prepare the chocolate ganache layer by melted the chocolate chips and shortening in the microwave for 15 seconds at a time until the chocolate chips are melted. Stir in the heavy cream. Spread on top of the cooled brownie bars. Drizzle caramel sauce on top.

13. Slice and enjoy!