By Sherry Collins

“Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances;” 1Thessalonians 5:16-17

Thanksgiving is almost here. My menu has been planned, house has been cleaned and I have already started prepping for the big day. All my family will be here in a few hours. This has always been one of my favorite holidays, indulging in some family favorites while expressing gratefulness to God for His many blessings. Its time spent around the table, laughing, reminiscing, and remembering God’s faithfulness.

 About ten years ago, I read Ann Voskamp’s “One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are”. It chronicles her spiritual discipline of recording God’s simple gifts every day. These are not limited to a surprise visit from a friend, or an increase in pay. Instead, these blessings are found in the mundane events of an all-too-ordinary life. This practice shifts her focus to God, and, in turn, transforms her thinking. Ann writes, “And when I give thanks for the seemingly microscopic, I make a place for God to grow within me.” She later concludes, “A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ.”

I would love to encourage all of you to rush out and buy your own copies of this book. Read it not just once, but maybe make it a habit to read every couple of years. Underline passages that speak to you, take notes, and ponder her thoughts. However, I recognize her poetic prose may not speak to everyone. So, I will share with you, in my not so poetic prose, how practicing the spiritual discipline of gratitude has changed my life.

I have a bright orange “Wake Up & Be Awesome” journal that I have been using to record my daily gratitude. Sunlight usually streams through my window, as I sit in my favorite chair with a cup of coffee, reflecting on the previous day. I think about what has transpired and record thoughts like “looking at baby clothes for my grandson”, “puddles of maple syrup in my oatmeal”, and “the soft glow of my pink salt lamp.” Some days, thoughts come quickly, and I record them with passion and joy.

 But, like most people, some days, tears blur my vision and it’s hard to see any blessings. Those are the days when disappointments seem like mountains, hurts feel like stab wounds that bleed continuously, and God seems so far away. Yet, I force myself to write in my journal that almost mocks me with its brightness. I sigh deeply as I consider what I can write that would express sincere gratefulness. And then, a moment flashes in my mind. It might be “a simple text from a friend saying she was thinking of me”, or “a hug from my husband that made me feel safe”, or a “picture of Joel up to mischief that Rachel sent”. Although my situation may not have changed, the simple act of writing down blessings shifts my focus from what is hard to a reminder of God’s faithfulness and promises. These holy moments result in miracles of peace and contentment inside my soul.

I’ve learned that gratitude is easy when blessings flow, life is smooth, and all is well. However, I have also learned that gratitude is easier when life is hard if I have cultivated the practice on a regular basis. Like all habits, it can be hardwired into my brain to respond to all situations with a grateful heart. This is not ignoring the tough situations or viewing them through rose-colored glasses. Instead, it is reframing them through the eyes of God and His perspective. It doesn’t erase the hurt or pain, but it reminds me that God has a plan, and His plans are good!

My brightly colored journal will be filled at the end of this year. For my birthday, I received a new grateful journal from my son and daughter-in-law. It’s not bright yellow, but snowy white with the words “Simply Grateful” etched in gold on the cover. This guided journal has a space not only to write down what I am grateful for in the morning, but also space to reflect in the evening. I am excited to start a new practice, ending my day with written thoughts focused on God. I’ve seen the fruits of daily taking a few moments of being grateful, and I eagerly anticipate the work God will do in me when I end my evening reflecting on Him!

Thanksgiving, by its very name, is the holiday focused on being grateful. Yet, in 48 hours, my fridge will be filled with leftovers, autumn decorations will have been taken down, and Christmas merriment will have begun. But, as I continue the practice of thankfulness in my daily life, true thanksgiving will continue to lead to eternal rewards! And that is a discipline that keep on giving!

“So God created man in his own image” Genesis 1:27

A few weeks ago, I spent some quality time with my six-year-old nephew and seven-year-old niece. We explored a museum, fed lettuce to giraffes, played a few games, and read lots of books. Like most children (and even most adults), they have definite opinions on what they like to eat and often voiced their disgust about certain types of food or cuisine. My sister, in trying to teach her children that not every opinion needs to be stated, has a family saying, “Don’t yuck my yum!” The motto came in handy when my niece and nephew commented on the smell of Indian food. I quietly reminded them, “Don’t yuck my yum!” However, it backfired on me when I told them that I didn’t like baked beans and my niece said, “Hey, that’s my yum!”

The concept of being created in God’s image is an old one, found in the very beginning of the Bible. But, until recently, I hadn’t fully comprehended the implications of what it meant. I understand that, as humans, we all have intrinsic value in the sight of God. What I didn’t understand was that all of us bear His image. Yes, we are individuals with different personalities, likes, interests, talents, styles, and tastes. But these differences should not separate us! Instead, these differences reflect different aspects of God and His innate creativity. For example, some lean toward the extrovert side of the scale, while others lean toward the introvert side. Both extroverts and introverts reflect the image of God and neither way of operating in the world is better than the other. Like the pieces of a puzzle, God made each of us different so that we could work together in community, allowing our differences to complement each other, create something beautiful, and illuminate God’s glory!

Mother Teresa once said, “If everyone could see the image of God in his neighbor, do you think we would still need tanks and generals?” I am not using this quote to engage in a discussion on the validity of the military, but if I extrapolate it out and apply it to my little corner of the world, I ask, “If I could see the image of God in my neighbors, would I be so quick to judge or label them?” The answer to this simple question changes my world in several ways.

 First, I need to align my definition of “neighbor” with Jesus’ definition in the parable of the Good Samaritan. The good neighbor reached out to someone who would have rejected him under normal circumstances. Too often, my neighbors are people with whom I share similar histories. It is easy to drop off a meal to a friend, but harder to reach out to someone who is not in my current circle. But isn’t this exactly what God expects me to do? He doesn’t encourage us to love our family and friends, He charges us to love our neighbors, those who are different from us.

Next, if I see them as an image-bearer of God, I am less inclined to see their differences as difficulties or obstacles for me to overcome. Even more so, I need to activate my curiosity in getting to know my neighbor, hearing their stories, and learning to understand their differences. These differences are shaped by their life, and, more importantly, their experiences need to be validated by God through me. As I become more curious and express genuine interest in their lives, I will be able to establish a relationship with them and love them the way Jesus loves them!

Finally, when I see others as image-bearers, it widens my view of God’s kingdom. When used to bring glory to God, our different talents and giftings can be more effective for the kingdom of God! For example, for years I thumbed my nose down at graphic novels. I considered them sub-literature. But a few podcasts that I love have extolled the virtues of a few well-written graphic novels. It has caused me to change my opinion and be more open-minded. Although I personally connect with the writings of C.S. Lewis and Ann Voskamp, others might connect better with a Christian graphic novelist. God can be reflected in any kind of writing, and I need to validate that and be willing to surrender my opinions and learn something new.

My sister is using the simple catchy phrase “Don’t yuck my yum!” to help her children be more polite. In a world that has become increasingly divisive, applying this phrase in my life is helping me to work at maintaining peace. I am choosing not to engage in polarizing opinions and choosing to listen to the heart of others who may have different opinions. I am looking at differences as an opportunity to learn and cultivate discussions. I am choosing to see my neighbors as image-bearers of God!

“The grass withers and the flowers fail, but the word of our God endures forever.” Isaiah 40:8

 It is the beginning of November with peak fall colors painting the landscape in southern PA. The brisk air invigorates me as I go about my daily walk, pausing occasionally to pick up a perfect leaf flaming in red and orange. I share Emily Bronte’s sentiment that “Every leaf speaks bliss to me/ Fluttering from the autumn tree.” This has always been, and will always be, my favorite season. The colors, smells, tastes and textures of autumn create this atmosphere of energy coupled with a sense of coziness that is hard to describe. It’s the time of the year when I wish life was a musical and I could sing about pumpkins, bonfires, and sweaters. As long as I live, I will never stop extolling the virtues of fall.

In looking back at previous blogs, I realized that I have written opposing perspectives relating to fall. In 2019, I wrote To Everything there is a Season about learning to let things go.  In 2020, I wrote about Autumn Abundance to remind myself of the importance of living an abundant life. In many ways, I think autumn is the season where we handle dichotomies with the most ease in our natural rhythms. The temperatures are dipping, as we welcome cozy sweaters and warm blankets. Trees drop their leaves, while squirrels dash to preserve seeds that may become future trees. The final days of harvest fill bins at the markets, while fields have become barren wastelands. The flowers on my patio slowly wither and die back while forests create the most magical displays of colors that I could ever hope to put in a vase!

The deeper significance of these dichotomies is in remembering that even as things die, there is still beauty to be found somewhere. I’ve seen this play out in my life repeatedly. This summer was a hard season due to some medical issues we faced. Vacations were cancelled, some dreams were put on hold, and goals had to be redefined. Yet, in the middle of the hardship, my husband and I managed to pick blueberries at Yellow Hill Farm, a local business that is as delightful as its name. I also made some syrup and froze some berries to be used later.

 Last week, we again faced some hard situations we have little control over. I admit, I was feeling stressed and a bit hopeless. As we ran some errands last Saturday, my mind was whirling around, analyzing the situations. and coming up with worst-case scenarios in my head. One of these errands including picking up a variety of apples at a local orchard. I went to bed that night, desperate for a sign that God was hearing my heartache.

That Sunday, God ministered to me in a deep way in my Life Group, the small groups our church uses to foster community and spiritual growth. After asking my friends to pray with me, I felt God was comforting me and reminding me that He was orchestrating things behind the scenes. Although nothing has changed and the situations remain uncertain, I have a peace that God IS working!

 Monday morning, I took the blueberries of my hard summer and the apples of my challenging Autumn weekend and made what I call a taste from heaven: Blueberry Vanilla Applesauce. I have been known to hide bags of this in the freezer and pull them out in secret, hoping my family won’t know it’s available. It takes what was a boring childhood staple and, elevates it to a decadent treat for adults. As I was stirring the pot, the beautiful bluish-purple sauce bubbled, creating a combination of flavors only God could imagine. I then realized that my two hard seasons had made something beautiful.

Below I am sharing this simple recipe. I hope as you make this recipe, it reminds you of some of the hard moments in your life that God has made beautiful. And if, like me, you are still facing hard moments, that it reminds you that God is still working. Lysa Terkeurst wrote this thought in “Forgiving What You Can’t Forget”: “What things look like from an earthly perspective God sees differently.”   I see hard situations, but God sees growth and beauty!

Blueberry Vanilla Apple Sauce

4 lbs. of apples, I use a variety of sweet and tart apples, peeled, cored, and diced (around 12 cups); 2 c. blueberries, fresh or frozen; 1 T. fresh lemon juice; 1/2 c. unsweetened apple cider; 1T. vanilla extract or vanilla bean paste

Combine all ingredients in a large pot. Bring liquid in bottom of pot to a boil over medium high heat. After it comes to a boil, lower to medium heat and cover, cooking for 45-60 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes until apples are soft. If you want a smooth apple sauce blend in batches in a food processor. I prefer mine a little chunky. Freezes well for a year.

“Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that Christ Jesus to hold of me.” Philippians 3:12

Terry and I recently traveled to Rhode Island to visit Ethan, Rachel, and Joel. Excited, we left mid-afternoon, anticipating that we would arrive at their house in six short hours. The last few trips there have gone well despite the chaotic traffic on I-95 in Connecticut. Although this trip would set a record, it was not in the direction we had anticipated. Ten hours later we arrived at our son’s home. The crazy part was all the slow downs happened before we even entered Connecticut! Despite the length of the trip, the time passed quickly. We alternated between listening to podcasts and reading a book aloud. A delightful chapter distracted us from the thirty-minute snail pace it took us to move two miles.

In early August, I wrote Leg Warmers and Body Shame, detailing my attempt to change lifelong messages I had received and accepted about myself. I declared that I was not going to count calories. I would journal about my feelings and work on dismantling the shame. The next day, I left for a birthday celebration only to return a few days later, testing positive for Covid-19. From this point on, nothing has gone as planned. After my initial symptoms disappeared, I struggled to get back into an exercise routine. My stamina was low, and my pace was slow. I also experienced a Rheumatoid Arthritis flare due to my compromised immune system. In essence, my body seemed to be in a bit of shock, and I needed to pay attention to it’s messages by choosing to accept the days I couldn’t exercise. I listened to my body but was admittedly frustrated, sometimes returning to old habits, using food to comfort me.

Recently, I heard a person remark in an interview that its easy at the end of the journey to share some of the important lessons you have learned. It’s harder to be vulnerable in the middle of a journey and offer perspective. She used the phrase “to capture in amber” referring to the lessons learned while still on the journey. “Capturing in amber” is a concept from Michael Crichton’s best-selling book, “Jurassic Park”. In the book, dinosaur DNA was extracted from bugs that had had feasted on dinosaur blood. The lives of these bugs were cut short when they accidentally got stuck in the sap of a tree. While still alive and struggling to get free, the sap enveloped them completely, eventually fossilizing the bug in amber. According to Crichton’s imagination and some scientific knowledge, the bugs captured in amber unlocked the keys for the future.

 I could take a high look back on the past three years and chronicle how I lost my weight and have overcome a lifelong battle of obesity. But this would not be a fair assessment. It took over forty years to put on those pounds along with the messages I received and habits I created to sustain that weight. I am still in the struggle, just like the bug who gets caught in the tree sap. And I need to pay attention to the lessons I am learning on the journey. I need to capture these moments and name where I still struggle. This authenticity helps me move forward and overcome. If I ignore the struggle and constantly look ahead to the end of the journey, I might miss some of the lessons I need to learn.

This journey has never been just about numbers, but numbers do play a role. My weight has crept up a few pounds in the last few months and my clothes don’t feel quite as comfortable as they did before. I find myself looking into the mirror and asking my husband if I look fat again. But as the words spill out of my mouth, I remind myself to show grace. I need to find the balance between numbers on the scale, the reality of my current physical health, and my old habits of using food as a comfort. I need to admit to myself and to others the struggles I am facing instead of reverting to the habits of hiding my setbacks. I must remind myself that this is just a slight delay on my journey to better health.

 In the past, when I have made long trips and have been in traffic jams or slowdowns, I have been annoyed and frustrated. This frustration didn’t leave when we made our destination. Instead, I always felt like I had to take some time to decompress. Although Terry and I were super excited to be out of the car, I didn’t need to decompress after this trip. I could be fully present as I greeted my son and his wife. The difference was I chose to enjoy the journey with my husband instead of focusing on my destination.

I am applying the lesson I learned on this Rhode Island trip to my journey toward better health. I am choosing not to panic about a few numbers on the scale. I am choosing to be honest with myself, and when I find my self over-indulging, I pause, and make a better decision the next time. I move as much as my body will allow, and rest when my body needs it. And in this struggle, I am learning more about myself, the messages I have accepted, and the truth of God.

“…not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?” Romans 2:4b

Around Christmas of 1983, outside of Kohl’s Department Store, in the bitter Wisconsin cold, a line of women waited for the doors to open. Their mission: to find the “Willy Wonka Golden Ticket” in the form of a Cabbage Patch doll. Elementary-aged girls, including myself, desperately wanted to adopt these dolls with hard plastic heads and cloth bodies. One of these women was my grandmother, who managed to purchase one for me that day. Upon receiving my doll, I quickly filled out the paperwork and waited for my official adoption papers to arrive in mail for my little Oliver Xavier. A few years ago, I found my doll in a crate. He was stained, scuffed and, to my surprise, one of the ugliest dolls I have ever seen! As an adult, I have no idea why these dolls captured the imagination of my generation. Despite its ugliness, I remember treating this doll like a real beautiful baby.

 A few years ago, I made a rude comment to a family member. I called this person out publicly on what I perceived as hypocrisy in a situation that, frankly, was none of my business. I justified it by claiming righteous indignation. Even though there was truth in what I said, my attitude and response were completely wrong. I offended someone that I cared about, and even though I tried to rectify the situation, my sinful response damaged that relationship permanently.

 My heart breaks when I think of how many times my responses towards others have been sinful. Like the situation above, I have justified my actions and words. These justifications have often been rooted in my own insecurities, hurt feelings, and pride. My feelings were real: I did feel diminished, shamed, excluded, and humiliated. But no matter what I was feeling, I had no right to diminish someone else’s self-worth or character.

Recently, I heard a sermon by Timothy Keller where he juxtaposes the concepts of grace and legalism within Christianity. His sermon is so full of incredible insights that I am linking the totality of his message here. His concept of repentance changed my paradigm of how I want to approach God. Keller says, “the legalistic repents out of fear and anxiety, the Christian repents out of gratitude for what Christ has done for him or her, and for a desire to be like Christ.” This simple statement helps me to clearly see the God that is written about in scriptures, especially the scripture in Roman 2:4, where Paul writes, “not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance.”

Although I have sung songs about his kindness that leads to repentance and have read that scripture, it didn’t totally resonate with me. I didn’t see God as some do, a terrible judge who was ready to pounce on me anytime I did something wrong. But I also didn’t see God as this benevolent father whose grace would inspire me to repentance. Instead, I landed somewhere in between, often repenting out of a sense of duty and obedience, which lead to feelings of guilt and shame. After repenting, I worked hard to discipline myself, focusing on character flaws like my unruly tongue. I would then study out scripture on what God expected of me and desperately try to align myself to His word. Then situations in ordinary life would test my resolve and I would find myself failing again instead of measuring up, repeating the cycle of repentance, discipline, and failure without success all over again. This approach closely aligned itself to the legalistic paradigm of Christianity. I certainly didn’t have this sense of gratitude that Timothy Keller talks about, until recently.

 Gratitude is defined as an appreciation for someone else’s kindness. In the case of God, it is appreciation for His unmerited kindness. When I mediate upon how He loves me despite the times I have been insulting, spoken words out of anger, and been unkind, it shifts my perspective. It humbles me that, despite my apparent ugliness, the creator of the universe loves me! Not only does He love me, but that He wants to spend eternity with me. His desire was so strong that He was willing to pay a debt I couldn’t pay. He was abandoned by his friends, publicly humiliated by the religious leaders, stripped naked, beaten, and, ultimately, hanged on a cross to satisfy my debt of sin. He did all of this because He loves me. And when I think about the cross and Jesus’ love for me, I am forever grateful. Now, when I sin, which I am prone to do, I repent out of gratefulness and my desire to be more like Jesus.

 After seeing my once prized Cabbage Patch doll through adult eyes, I decided that this ugly doll was not worth keeping. I chose to throw it away. I am so thankful that God never decides we are not worth saving. He sees the ugly stains of sin on us and chooses to invite us into a relationship with Him. He knocks on the door of my soul and waits patiently, even when I ignore Him. And because of this kindness, I can truly repent with gratitude!

“Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.” Matthew 15:32

Terry and I are bibliophiles, a fancy word for people obsessed with books.  We have friends who still mention the trauma they felt twenty-five years ago when carrying twenty huge plastic totes filled with books upstairs into our apartment.  The number of books we have owned has waxed and waned over the years.  At one point, we had well over a thousand books crammed into a dozen bookshelves.  Our library cards always have items checked out on them, our books-to-be-read list continues to grow, and we explore new places often through their bookstores.

Between the two of us, our interests cover a lot of different genres.  We love classics, both for adults and young people.  We read a lot of personal development books based on Christian principles and we love good biographies.  However, we differ in some areas.  Terry loves a good science fiction story, thriller, or mystery.  I love both literary and historical fiction, along with memoirs, travel, and nature books.  Recently, I discovered a new genre that has pleasantly surprised me: cookbooks.

I have always loved beautiful cookbooks.  The glossy pictures of different recipes have inspired me to try new dishes in my kitchen.  I have sometimes purchased cookbooks solely based on the quality of their photographs.  But my interest in cookbooks has been limited to the list of ingredients and the steps of the recipes.  In my opinion, cookbooks were just beautiful instruction books, until this year.

My journey of cookbook enlightenment started with Shanua Niequist’s “Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table with Recipes.”  In this book, each chapter is a short, memoir-style essay that closes with a recipe that has captured her heart.  These essays and recipes tell stories about her life: the highlights, the challenges, and her growth personally and within community.  She states in her introduction, “Food is the starting point, the common ground, the thing to hold and handle, the currency we offer to one another.”

 I read this book, cover to cover.  I even discovered more insights into what are called the “headnotes” of a recipe.  This is the short blurb after the name of the dish but before the ingredient list.  I found myself reading the recipe itself, noting any tips or suggestions she offered.  It was the first time I have ever had a visceral experience with a cookbook!  Just like a novel, I not only felt sad that it ended but also wanted to share its delights with others.

I wondered to myself, do other cookbooks offer this much insight into life through their recipes?  Can I find the “common ground” that Niequist refers to in other books as well?  Immediately, I went to the library and found “Ripe Figs” by Yasmin Khan.  It sparked joy as soon as I picked it up with its beautiful cover photo of perfectly sliced figs bordered by an exotic blue and white graphic design.  This cookbook explored food and culture through migration in Turkey, Cyprus, and Greece.  Khan not only shares some of the that hardships refugees experience but interweaves them with her own struggles recovering from a miscarriage as she explores different cultures.  She attempts to recreate the recipes she loved in her own kitchen with ingredients that can be easily found in most cities.  Her sentences danced across the page, enticing my palate with foreign spices, fruits, and vegetables.  I loved the book so much, I immediately searched for more of her cookbooks and bought “Ripe Figs” for my sister on her birthday!

Since then, I have checked out several other cookbooks, usually focused on Middle Eastern and Indian cuisine.  These books have allowed me to armchair travel, exploring other cultures through food.  When reading “Chaat” by Maneet Chauhan, I could sense the busyness of Indian railway stations with vendors selling their delectable bites to travelers passing through.  In “Sumac: Recipes and Stories from Syria” by Anas Atassi, I wanted the linens on my tables to create memories for my family similar to the ones that Atassi experienced as a child in his grandmother’s home.  While reading “Parwana” by Durkhani Ayubi, I got a timely lesson on the Afghan people through the eyes of one family and their food.

These books have not only exposed me to different ingredients and cultures but have also reminded me of the importance of gathering around a table with family and friends.  We were never meant to be alone, God always intended us to be in community.  It struck me that when Jesus performed miracles, instead of sending the people home afterward, he invited them to have dinner despite his lack of food. Through His hospitality, He performed a miracle that not only provided them with physical nourishment for their bodies but let them know He cared about all their needs.  Like any good host, I imagine Jesus walked through the crowd asking each family if they had enough.  This personal interaction probably made each person feel like he was not just a number Jesus could record as a miracle, but that he or she was valued as an individual.  This means of connecting though food is illustrated throughout the gospels with records of Jesus dining not only his with chosen disciples and friends but with people of ill-repute as well.  Despite criticism from the religious elite, Jesus chose to connect with people through food.

 If social media Is any indicator of trends, our current world is filled with divisiveness on all sides covering all sorts of issues.  This is not only causing discord in society but between family members, friends, and the body of Christ.  In “Bread and Wine”, Niequist says, “The heart of hospitality is about creating space for someone to feel seen and heard and loved.  It’s about declaring your table a safe zone, a place of warmth and nourishment.”  That is the desire of my heart as well!  I don’t mind having lively conversations on controversial topics.  But more than my desire to debate or enlighten, I want my guests to feel seen, heard, and loved.  I want to connect across the able over a steaming bowl of soup, a comforting dish of pasta or a savory roast.  Like Jesus, I want to welcome people to my table, no matter their background, beliefs, or opinions.  Just like the authors of these cookbooks have connected me with their cultures, I believe that through this simple act of hospitality, miracles will unfold that connect us to one another!

“For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD as the waters cover the sea.” Habakkuk 2:14

Recently, I read a story in Emily Ley’s “Growing Boldly” that has been resonating with me.  She interviewed her friend Christie about her family and the challenges they face.  After years of miscarriages, Christie and her husband finally had the family they desired, two daughters and two sons.  It’s easy to assume that the miscarriages were the “hard seasons” that Christie and her husband had to endure, concluding that their life would be relatively smooth from this point on.  But the real hard was just beginning when they found out that their oldest son was diagnosed with cystinosis, a rare genetic disorder with only five hundred cases currently in the United States.  After dealing with this diagnosis, they later found out that their youngest son also had cystinosis.  This disease has no cure, only treatments, and the prognosis is terminal.  Christie did not hesitate to share the hard details of her life because she believes that “this is our glory story” and she wants “to point people back to the Lord.”

Read that paragraph again and let the gravity of what this woman is saying sink in.  Two of her sons deal with medical challenges that most of us can’t even begin to comprehend.  Yes, medicine is making advances, but, currently, there is no cure in sight.  She is not bitter or in despair, instead she is motivated to use her testimony to bring glory to God, no matter where this story takes her.

Barb Houston, the wife of one of our pastors, recently shared with our congregation something that God was speaking to her during a Sunday morning service.  She said that it is one thing to know that God is faithful, but that God has more to reveal to us during hard seasons.  She encouraged us to show gratitude, responding with this sentiment during hard seasons.  “I know that this looks very dark, but I know who You are, and You will work in this situation.  You will bring good.  You will deliver, You will heal, You will glorify Your name and I will see it and I thank you!”  By this very action, by choosing to thank God for the tough situations and know that His glory will be revealed, we will not only be strengthened, but we will be a testimony of His glory to others.

  My story has not always been pleasant.  I was repeatedly raped by my stepfather for over a decade.  I hid my shame by stuffing food into my mouth, resulting in weighing well over 350 pounds.  And in the past few years, I have dealt with some hard situations.  Although I can’t change my past, I can choose whether it is my story or my glory story.  If it is my story, I will identify with the brokenness, obesity, hurt and despair.  If I choose to let it be my “glory story”, I will use it as a testimony to declare the goodness of God.  And by seeing the goodness of God in my past, I can rest assured that in the future, no matter what happens, God is good, and His glory will be revealed!

In 1870, Horatio Spafford appeared to be a man who was on a path for a blessed life.  As a successful lawyer, he had invested into real estate in the booming city of Chicago.  In addition, he was a man of faith, married with five children.  But like a modern-day Job, he soon lost everything.  First, his four-year-old son died of pneumonia.  Next, the Chicago Fire destroyed all his real estate holdings, leaving him in financial ruin.  He slowly started to rebuild his life which included helping to rebuild Chicago.  He also chose to invest not only in real estate but also in his faith by helping the evangelist D. L. Moody with some missionary work in Europe.  In 1873, he sent his wife and daughters on ahead to Europe, while he wrapped up some business dealings.  Tragedy struck again, when his family’s ship collided with an iron sailing vessel, killing 226 people.  His wife sent a telegram with the simple words, “Saved alone.”

Spafford turned his story into a glory story while he traveled to Europe.  As his ship passed the same spot where his daughters had died, he penned a poem.  This poem would later be put to music, becoming one of the most famous hymns sung today.  The first stanza ends with the words, “Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.”

 My “glory story” is not over.  I am still dealing with some of the aftereffects of the last few years.  I still have loved ones who are experiencing some real struggles.  I still have hurts and disappointments that I must work through.  But even if these situations seem insurmountable or out of my control, my identity is not found in these situations.  I am choosing to believe that God’s goodness will be revealed in these situations.  And while these situations may continue to exist, I can say “It is well with my soul!”

“If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness.: 2 Corinthians 11:30

This past summer, I purchased a swimming pool for my grandson to splash in.  It’s exactly the kind of pool that I would have loved as a child: a red mushroom canopy on top with a bright yellow base.  I envisioned him splashing with glee in the pool while I sat next to him on the outside, living vicariously through him.  But I forgot one key point: my grandson, like his father as a child, needs some time to adapt to new situations.  In addition to that, he also wasn’t feeling the greatest that week.  Instead of splashing with glee, he whimpered when we placed him in the pool.  He gradually grew calmer, but never really gained any enthusiasm for the idea.  The pool is now packed away for next summer when we will try again.

Two years ago, I began to write this blog out of a place of brokenness, confusion, and uncertainty.  I felt like my life was transitioning in so many ways, some positive and some not so much.  After twenty-plus years of home educating my own children and providing childcare for different families, my responsibilities were changing, and I had more free time on my hands.  I was also navigating some tough situations that affected all areas of my life.  After praying about some different options, I felt led to spend some time writing, both this blog and a book about my life.

I remember nervously posting my first blog, wondering if anyone would read it!  I knew I wasn’t an Ann Voskamp who writes poetic prose that makes you pause and reflect.  I also knew I wasn’t a Lysa TerKeurst who can directly address issues of the heart and bring new Biblical insights to light.  Although I admire these writers, I had no expectation of having the kind of influence they have garnered.  I did know that I was an ordinary woman who served a good God who helped me create an extraordinary life despite brokenness and hardship.

Just like my grandson, I was a little cautious in my first blogs, testing the waters with my vulnerability.  Can I really share some of the hard stories of my life?  Do I want to publicly reveal the shame of obesity I carried around?  Do I want to share some of the failures I have experienced in life?  Dare I expose the loneliness that I have battled for the last eight years?

Post by post, I revealed more and more, and found that my little corner of the social media world felt safe.  As I poured my heart out in words, I felt like I gained a new perspective on some of the struggles I have gone through.  Unlike my grandson, I found that, over the course of time, this “pool” of blogging was a fun place to be, where I could express myself through words, sharing with others what God was doing in me despite my faults and shortcomings.

The biggest lesson I have learned is how the shame script had impacted my life.  It had shaped how I viewed myself, how I related to my husband, how I parented my children, and, most importantly, how I viewed God.  Writing and seeing how others have responded to my posts has helped dismantle this shame.  Brene’ Brown says, “If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.”

Readers, thank you for taking the time to read my blog and for your empathetic responses.  My greatest desire through this experience was that my words somehow will resonate with you and minister to you wherever you are in your life!  I am finding that God is using my blog to do far more inside of me than my desire to minister to others.  In this journey of transition and self-growth, I will continue to write with openness and transparency.  I’m still on a journey, and I hope you will continue to walk with me!

“The earth has yielded its increase; God, our God, shall bless us.” Psalms 67:6

My daughter’s menu for her upcoming wedding is one of our family favorites: chicken fajitas with all the fixings.  It has been a crowd pleaser for years: spicy, lime-marinated chicken with peppers, different salsas to fit everyone’s flavor profile, and creamy queso on the side.  I wouldn’t say my recipe is unique, but the key is using my homemade fajita seasoning, Terry’s grilling skills, and freshly grated cheese.  With the wedding only nine months away, I am prepping ahead of time.  I promise none of this prep involves the possibility of food poisoning, but instead canning some homemade salsa for the wedding.

It’s amazing to me how far one $12-box of tomatoes can go when it comes to canning.  I have made 12 pint jars of corn salsa, 10 pint jars of regular salsa, and I still have a lot of tomatoes left!  I plan on quartering the rest of the tomatoes, brushing them with olive oil, then grilling them over medium heat until they blister on all sides.  Next, I put them in a glass bowl and cover them with plastic wrap.  Once they are cool enough to handle, I take the skin off and remove the seeds.  Finally, I pop them into a freezer bag and then into the deep freezer to use later in stews, chili, and soups.

 I want to share my Corn Salsa recipe with you.  I found this recipe a few years ago and have since adapted it to make it my own.  It’s an amazing combination of sweet and spicy heat, with charred corn, poblano peppers and tomatoes.  This was the first recipe where I used coriander seed.  When crushed, this tiny seed packs a big punch with its bright lemony flavor.  This is not a salsa that induces self-control.  I know several people who have devoured a jar of this salsa in one sitting.

Grilled Corn Salsa

• 6 ears of corn (about 3 cups)
• 1-2 T. olive oil
• 5 c. tomatoes (about 3lbs.)
•  2 large poblano peppers
• 1-2 jalapenos, de-seeded, ribs removed, and finely chopped
• 1 c. diced red onion
• 1 1/2 c. apple cider vinegar
• 1 6 oz. can of tomato paste
• 1/4 c. of freshly squeezed lime juice
• 2/3 c. sugar
• 1 1/2 t. cumin seeds
• 1 t. coriander seed (crushed in a bag with a rolling pin)
• 1/2 t. red pepper flakes
• 1 t. salt
• 1/2 t. pepper
• 1 c. fresh cilantro, chopped

Preheat grill to medium heat.  Husk and de-silk the corn.  Brush with olive oil.  Place on grill for 2-4 minutes each side until they get a little char, rotate ears until each side is slightly charred.  After ears cool, cut corn off husk.  After you have 3 cups, set it aside.

Place poblano peppers on grill on medium-high heat.  Grill each side until it blisters.  Take off the grill and place in a bowl, covering it with plastic wrap.  When they are cool enough to handle, take skin and most of the seeds and rib out.  Finely chop and set aside.

Blanch 3-4 tomatoes at a time in boiling water for 1-3 minutes until the skin breaks open.  Place immediately in ice-cold water to stop the cooking process, then drain.  After all the tomatoes have been processed, remove skin and seeds.  Dice into small pieces and place in a large stock pot.

Add corn, poblano and jalapeno peppers, onions, tomato paste, vinegar, lime juice, sugar, and all the seasonings except the cilantro.  Bring to a boil on medium heat.  Once it reaches a boil, turn down the heat to simmer and let it simmer for 12 minutes until the liquid slightly reduces.  Add cilantro and cook for another two minutes.  Taste, and adjust salt and seasonings if needed.

If you want to can this in a water bath, make sure jars, lids and seals are all processed correctly.  Place in jars leaving a little headspace, seal, and place in a canner with boiling water a few inches above the jars for 15 minutes.  If they properly seal, you can store for 12-18 months.

I recently saw a meme that made me laugh.  The meme was a picture of people running and the caption says, “Quick!  It’s the forty-five minutes a year when tomatoes taste incredible!”  We are on minute 44 of the 45 minutes, so if you have a lot of tomatoes left, give the corn salsa a try!

“So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, out inner self is being renewed day by day.” 2 Corinthians 4:16 ESV

My great aunt, Lucille Feldkamp, my grandfather’s sister, was one of most beautiful ladies I have ever met.  I didn’t know her well since she only visited during major family celebrations like golden anniversaries and birthdays that marked a new decade.  Her ivory hair framed her pixie face, her eyes twinkled like my grandfather’s, no lines etched the porcelain skin of her face, and she walked into a room gracefully.  I don’t remember her saying much, but her few polite words were always accompanied by a smile and an expression of gentle interest.  I saw their quiet watchful eyes as she sat next to my grandfather, and I wondered what interesting stories the two of them could share with the family gathered around them.  I remember my aunt asking Lucille’s daughter, Delores, what was the secret to her mother’s beauty regime.  She responded that she had no idea, except that her mother always wore hats when she gardened.

Recently, I was lamenting the truths of aging: the beginning of hot flashes, dry eyes, thinning white hair, and the increase of age spots on my face.  As I lamented, my friend, Bonnie, reminded me of God’s grace, and “wasn’t one of His gifts that we age slowly over the course of time” instead of hitting an age where everything suddenly falls apart.  It stopped my complaints and I have been pondering that for a while, asking myself what are the gifts God is giving me as I age?  The answers I have found are characteristic of the goodness of God.  They demonstrate His generosity, His faithfulness, and His sense of humor.

As far as his generosity, despite my years of obesity, I feel the strongest I have every felt in my life, in addition to having the most amount of flexibility.  The years of obesity could have caused an utter deterioration of my joints, resulting in the need for knee or hip replacements.  Instead, all the weight I have lost has given me a new lease on life.  I spend time racing across my yard to see a bird’s nest, make future play dates with children to splash in puddles, hike with friends, and practice flexibility through Pilates.  I have even attempted to climb a tree, something I rarely did as a child.

His faithfulness is expressed in His willingness to use my words to encourage others.  Twenty years ago, a wrinkle-free and glowing Sherry would have written a blog full of judgmental opinions and acid responses.  Fortunately, although I was prideful in a lot of areas in my life, I lacked confidence in writing, so I never pursued a blog.  God allowed me to forge my own path in pride and experience some failures that led me back to His arms.  He then set me on a different path paved with His word.  Now, I recognize that my age spots, wrinkles, and white hair mark time spent maturing in life experiences.  I can now reflect on my past through God’s eyes instead of youthful pride.

Finally, God has a sense of humor reflected not only in his design of the platypus, but also in my hair.  For all my life, I have had to contend with wavy hair, otherwise known as frizzy, but not quite curly hair.  I desperately wanted to have curly hair like the actress, Minnie Driver.  I would even stop women in public whose curls I deemed perfect and tell them I loved their hair!  My prayers have been answered now that I am in my late forties.  For the past year, my hair has been coming in curly at the roots, to the point that I have had to learn to use different products and techniques to manage it.  I would no longer define my hair as wavy but full-blown curly.  I believe that God answered my prayers through hormonal changes.

Aging does not have to be something we dread.  Yes, we will have wrinkles, move slower, and have thin graying hair.  But these aspects of aging do not have to define us.  Upon reflection of my great Aunt Lucille, it wasn’t just her physical beauty that impressed me, but it was also the fact that she was kind to those around her.  Recently, I spent some time talking to her daughter, Delores.  She shared with me how much her mom embraced the concept of being a homemaker.  She loved gardening and the kitchen was a place where she shined.  She created memories for her family in the meals and desserts she prepared.  Her family has even created a cookbook of their favorite recipes with notes from children and grandchildren explaining why these recipes meant so much to them.  What a beautiful legacy that Lucille gave to her family.  Her inner beauty inspires me to age with grace and dignity!