Sunday, November 21, 2010

Confession is Good for the Soul, but Cheesy Grits are Better



Maybe I am rebelling against the anti-carb establishment.

Maybe it is my way of adapting to a more simple way of life.

Maybe it is a deep longing for comfort in the midst of 4:30 sunsets and way below freezing temperatures.

Maybe moving so far north is causing me a subconscious need to reconnect with my southern roots.

Maybe it is just that they are so durn (Is that how you spell it Aunt Margie?) good.

I lie awake at night trying to get to the bottom of all this.

But to no avail.

The facts remain the same.

I am obsessed with Cheesy Grits.

They really are a little bit of heaven here on earth.

They go with everything.

They can be eaten morning, noon and night.

With eggs, toast and bacon.

With pot roast.

With saucy shrimp.

With meatballs.

With beef bourguignon.

In a bowl.

On the grill.

Fried up in some butter.....


SEND HELP NOW


Exodus 20:3-4  You shall have no other gods before me. You shall not make for yourself an image in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below.

Surely this doesn't apply to cheesy grits, does it?

Thursday, November 18, 2010

I am a Dirty Gym Bag

As I wrote this post yesterday, I really wanted it to be a fun and light hearted look at the reality of my day to day life...dishes, homework, budget, dirty laundry.  It took me a long time to finish because I kept feeling pulled to take the post in a different direction.  

Being new at this blogging thing, I was unsure of what to do.  Should I scrap the whole thing?  Ignore that still, small, voice?  In typical perfectionist style, I chose to do nothing.  
Until I remembered the commitment I made to listen to that still, small voice.  What follows is what has been whispering in my ear.

I am a dirty gym bag. 
Aren’t we all?  We all carry around hurt, guilt, shame, unforgiveness, unhealthy relationship patterns, selfishness, unwise coping mechanisms, jealousy, anger and assorted other dirty laundry if you will.
I have a tendency to lug all my dirty laundry around with me until I can barely take another step.  The zipper is straining and the pockets are overflowing.  I may even be dropping things as I make my way through life.  They spill out in irritation with those around me, stubbornness, and a feeling that I am owed something.  
God wants to meet me in the laundry room.  He longs to relieve me of the heavy load I am carrying.  The longer the bag sits without being attended to, the worse the mess is going to be.  
John 3:20 says, “Everyone who does evil hates the light, and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed.” 
I have to be willing to unzip the bag and expose it to the light.
He will patiently unpack my bag one dirty item at a time.  He isn’t scared or surprised by what is there.  He already knew and He would have been happy to do a few loads of wash during the season instead of a heavy-duty load all at once.


So, let’s unpack the dirty football bag again, but this time with an eye on how the bag is just like us.


Some of the things in our bag just do not belong in there.  At all.  They need to go straight to the trash.  Ephesians 4:31(NIV) says, “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.”  Some of these things fit me as well as a comfortable old t-shirt.  I’ve had them for a long time.  Even if they are nasty and mildewed they are hard to let go of because they are so familiar.  If I leave them in the bag, I WILL wear them again, even if I know they are gross.   Better to just throw them away and not be tempted to ever put them on again.
Other items in our bag may be things that we have outgrown as we have matured.  There comes a time when we have to accept that they just don’t fit anymore and they need to be put away.   1Corinthians 13:11(NIV) “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”  It is time to grow up and replace childish ways with those of adulthood.
The rest of the things in the football bag were able to be redeemed with a lot of Spray and Wash and scrubbing.  Did I get all the stains out?  No.  But, they are still usable.  
A lot of the dirty laundry we carry is also still usable.  Our hurts and struggles have a purpose.  Isaiah 61:3(KJV) “...to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”  I love the way the King James version words this.  God wants to take our dirty, mildewed, nasty stuff, clean it up, and turn it into something beautiful for our growth and for His glory.  


Lastly, remember what WASN’T in the football bag?  Protection.  
We may not think we need protection, but there is an enemy out there who is much more determined than a lineman to take us down.  We need to make sure we are protected every time we step on the field.  
Ephesians 6:10-12 (The Message) “God is strong, and he wants you strong. So take everything the Master has set out for you, well-made weapons of the best materials. And put them to use so you will be able to stand up to everything the Devil throws your way. This is no afternoon athletic contest that we'll walk away from and forget about in a couple of hours. This is for keeps, a life-or-death fight to the finish against the Devil and all his angels.”
I don’t know about you, but I need to visit the laundry room a little more often.  
Oh, yeah, and, don’t forget your cup.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

The Scariest Moment of October......

  • was NOT October 31st with a trip to the local haunted farm and two of the three kids trick or treating without adult supervision. 
  • wasn’t the BLIZZARD warning one county north of us.  
  • wasn’t the $322 trip to the Walmart for a week’s worth of groceries.  
  • wasn’t even the moment that Katie came home from school and announced that she and some punk named Ryan are “GOING OUT”.  For the record I am sure he is a very nice young man...but if he is “going out” with my 6th grade daughter, he’s a punk.


No, the scariest moment this month was when this was deposited in my laundry room.


It had been so long since I had seen this bag that I hardly recognized it.  I was (somewhat) politely informed that the contents needed to be laundered and returned to school the following day.

I was afraid, very afraid.  Mostly because I hadn't seen the bag or its contents for one very long football season.

I examined the bag tentatively.  If someone had been watching the scene play out in a horror moving they would have been yelling, “Don’t open the bag! Don’t open the bag!”  But, of course, I opened the bag.  I couldn’t help it.  In an attempt to delay the inevitable, I started with the side pockets.


Four empty bottles....”Not too bad” I thought to myself.

And then I caught a glimpse of this.


Umm, helloooooooooo?  You paid $2.12 for a 32 ounce bottle of soda???  Are you kidding me?  Whose son are you?  Haven’t I raised you any better than this?  You could buy 4 liters of soda for that price at the Walmart!

Once the shock of the overpriced gas station soda wore off, I moved on to the main compartment of the gym bag.


It wasn’t any prettier.


No, the team does not wear pink football pants.  But, do you see it?  The pink? Do you know what that is?  Some sort of pink mildew.   Eeeeeeeewwwww!


And just as the ingenue in the horror movies, I predictably continued down the dark path.



Okay, these don’t look too bad.....until I remember how much I paid for them just three short months ago.  And realize that they will never be worn again because even though they are a size 13, by next season, they will be too small and have to be replaced by an equally expensive, short-lived pair of cleats.

Oh, wait, what is that?  UnderArmour?  Hmmm....that shirt is black and was only worn on the coldest of days so maybe it will be okay.


And then I remember....we live in North Dakota now and have already had more than a few “coldest of days” including TWO snowfalls, one of which occurred when it was technically still summer.


“What on earth is that?" I think to myself.

I know what it looks like, but don’t worry, it is not an athletic supporter for a cup.  In fact, that is the one item that was NOT in the football bag.  No, the boy has decided to risk MY future grandchildren in favor of being looking cool and tough. Apparently the motto of the 8th grade football team is not something inspiring like:

Keep Your Eye on the Prize,

No Regrets,

Iron Sharpens Iron,

Commitment to Excellence,

Guard the Yard,

We Make Nightmares Come to Reality,

 We Break Ours, So We Can Kick Yours, or

All You Got. All the Time.



No, they have exchanged the traditional for the truly stupid.

Real Men Don’t Wear Cups


I digress.  Back to the football bag.  And what exactly is that messy tangle of white, greybrown, pink?


Yep. A nasty t-shirt with the sleeves cut off covered in that same pink mold and what looks like tread marks.   This was worn under his pads EVERY SINGLE DAY OF THE SEASON FOR PRACTICE!  Uggghhhhhhhh.... straight to the trash.


Thankfully, that brought me to the bottom of the bag.




I have never seen my washing machine on such a long cycle before.  Yes, two hours and fifteen minutes.  And I am not even going to mention the amount of Spray and Wash I used.



His punishment was having to sniff his own pants.



Of course, all was forgiven when he flashed this smile at me.



*For a bit of a different take on this same subject, check out tomorrow's post!