Tag: Peace

Not Today COVID.

Rockstar.

This rockstar drinking a chocolate milkshake is my Grandma. And I love her so much.

She came to MO in a covered wagon from Kansas as a five year old.

She lived through the depression and wore a dress made from a bright-yellow flour sack material. (Yes, they bought the flour for food and then used the soft material of the bag for clothes.)

She witnessed our nation unify and the young and old sign up for World War II to fight against Communism and injustice.

As a newlywed she lived in a Colorado logging camp that had formerly been used as a German Prisoner of War camp.

She supported Billy Graham from his beginning to end.

She watched Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin walk on the moon.

She has three children, 6 grandchildren and lots of great grandchildren (Sorry family. I lost count of us all. But she hasn’t.).

Before this Christmas she looked pale and weak. So we took her to the doctor and found out she had only 40% of her blood due to an ulcer. Then they diagnosed a UTI. Then they diagnosed COVID.

Yes, COVID. I thought – we all thought – we will never see her again. Barred from the hospital, we prayed we would see grandma again. Hug her one last time. That somehow, this combination of living on 40% of blood, an infection plus the coronavirus would not take her.

My heart cried out, God! She has given too much, loved too many to die alone!

She will be 91 years old this spring and I am happy to say she is still kicking! Which is what I told her. To which she quipped right back, “Ha! Well, I’m not kicken’ very high!”

Marveling at God’s grace upon her, His answer to our prayers, I asked her, “How did you get through it all? It was just so much.”

She answered, “You just do what you gotta do until you get through it. Anytime you face something new you do not have any experience with it, so you just do it. Then, when you make it through, okay now you have some experience. But until then, you just face it and do it until it’s done and behind you.”

Grit. Thats how I sum it up. Her generation has grit.

I asked her what was the hardest part about the last several weeks. She said, “Being alone. It’s hard to be alone. But I see myself back in my apartment and seeing you all again and that’s what I am working toward.”

Hope. Plain and simple. Hope gives us the strength to do what we need to, to grab hold and push foward until we make it through. It is for hope we persevere.

Hope doesn’t beg for relief or whine about discomfort. Hope doesn’t depend on ease. Hope is the joy set before us. An expectation that rallies the soul and urges us on.

What is the hope you are clinging to today? What propels you forward?

Jesus is the hope my Grandma clings to. He is the hope I cling to. Unmoveable. Unchangeable. Eternal. A rock in the storm. A beacon in the darkness.

Grandma, I am excited for more of your stories and to give you another hug soon. And yes, I’ll bring you another milkshake!

What I Will Miss

Everyone seems to think the best response to a hard day at home is: you’re going to miss this. It’s almost as annoying as the “you’ve got your hands full” statement when your kids are having a horrid trip to the grocery store and you’re about to be in tears yourself. Sometimes I want to snap back, “Actually, no I will not miss the perpetual ringing in my ears from the shrieks and screams that have happened all day.”

We hear it all the time do we not? There’s merit to it. It originates from the generations who have gone before us and look back and know that yes, we will absolutely miss this time of life. I just wish someone would go a little deeper. Break it down more for my fried senses to take it in with understanding. Tell me that while I won’t miss the ringing in my ears, I will miss the joyful sound of laughter and the pitter patter of small feet running through my house.

In an effort to stop rolling my eyes the moment I hear you’re going to miss this,  I decided to queue into the beauty in the mess. Focus on things I know I will miss so that I develope an appreciation of this “now” season. So that when it is over I won’t look back and say, I wish I had cherished it more.

I won’t miss the sleepless nights and the black circles that publicize them. But, I will miss those midnight moments when I rock a sleepy baby who is for the moment content to soak up all the snuggles I will give her.

I won’t miss the pain from boney elbows that pierce my chest when they suddenly want off my lap. However, I will miss the times when they wanted to sit on my lap at all and they were small enough to actually fit on it.

I won’t miss stubbing my toe on a talking toy in the middle of the night thus waking up the whole house. But, I will miss watching my kids toddle around while carrying their favorite stuffed animal– usually bigger than they are– under their arm.

I won’t miss the difficult trips to the grocery store with the five of them knocking things off shelves and dropping things from the cart just to see if it will break. But I will miss the days when they begged to go with me because all they really want is time with their mommy.

I won’t miss the dried oatmeal on the floor that hurts my feet when I walk over it. But I will deeply miss the days when we all sat around the table and there were no phones, no radios, no tvs, and no school meetings or practices to pull us in different directions.

For now, in this moment in our family, it’s just us. We are all here, together. Their love for Brian and I is untainted and unconditional. They hear opinions from others but care only for our praise and approval. Right now, in their tender, young hearts no one means more to them than us. Someday, as they grow and mature this will all change. It is as it should be. I will be proud of the independent and strong men and women they will become. But yes, I will miss this.

Pray For Them

According to the National Institute of Mental Health, over 18% of American adults suffer from anxiety disorders. That’s over 40 million Americans. In a society that struggles so much with fear and anxiety, we need to be battling on the front lines for our loved ones to find peace. Peace that persists in every situation and goes beyond understanding can only be rooted in Christ. Let’s pray today for our loved ones to find true peace in their lives.

Perfect Pie Crust


For all I know, this could be straight out of a 1954 Betty Crocker cookbook. But folks, it was handed down to me all the way from my great grandma and it is delicious. It never fails to be perfect. People who don’t like crust only exist because they haven’t tried this one. Pie season is coming up and you need to be ready!

This makes three 9″ pie crusts. Freeze what you don’t need and when you’re ready for your next pie just pull it out, let it thaw in the fridge and bam, you’re set to go.

  • 3 cups Flour
  • 1 tsp Salt
  • 1 cup Lard
  • 1 Egg
  • 1 Tbs White Vinegar
  • 2/3 cup Cold Water

Blend flour and salt. Add lard and cut into flour mixture with a pastry cutter until crumbles are pea size. Beat egg in a cup, add vinegar to it and mix together then add cold water. Pour into flour and combine with a fork until it pulls away from the edges. Divide into three even sections. Turn out what you need onto a floured surface and roll it out. Freeze what you don’t need.

If your filling is already cooked, poke holes in your crust with a fork and pre-bake your pie crust in the oven at 375 degrees for 25-30 minutes. Then add your filling. (You poke holes so the crust doesn’t have big bubbles during baking.)

If your filling needs to be cooked in the oven, just pour it into a raw pie crust (no holes) and bake for 45 minutes at 375 degrees.

Note: If you want your crust to turn out just right, you cannot substitute the lard. It’s a completely natural product and makes things deliciously flakey like pie crusts and biscuits. Shortening won’t do your recipe justice (besides it’s made only from chemicals in a lab) and butter doesn’t have the same abilities.