Margaret McSweeney's Blog, page 20

The Ministry of Inconvenience | Christa Parrish

The baby cries, awake from his nap. I run upstairs, leaving Claire preparing soup in her play kitchen. Leaving my project — transforming an unhappy, abandoned table Chris rescued from the church into a chic writing desk for our bedroom. I’m changing Noah’s diaper when I remember I’ve left a three year old alone with an open can of paint, and rush back downstairs to find her, gobs of white all over the table legs, the wood floor, and Claire, paintbrush in hand, saying, “I’m so helpful, Mama.”

It may, then, appear insanity has set in when, weeks later, as Chris and I are preparing to paint my new studio — formerly known as the dining room we never use — Claire asks, “Can I help paint?” and we say yes. Chris cuts in around the molding while I follow Claire with a roller, smoothing the drips of paint she slaps on the walls. Yes, it makes more work for us as we spend an extra hour cleaning pear-colored preschooler footprints from the floor. Or repainting the window trim because we tell Claire to paint “only the white parts,” but the sills also are white so she follows our instructions too well. And we learn a lesson in being more specific in our words.

We must have patience in guiding our children toward helpfulness. It is easier and more time efficient to simply do it ourselves, but in doing so we can teach our children their help isn’t necessary or appreciated. When Jacob wants to work with his papa changing the leaky pipes beneath the sink, my father grumbles, “A thirty minute job just became two hours.” But he directs Jacob to fetch tools and tighten connectors, and I think of my father having the same patience with me as a child. Because he allowed himself to be inconvenienced by my help, I have those precious bonding moments, as well as some mad woodworking skills.

Christ works through His people. He doesn’t need our help. In fact, I imagine Him sometimes inconvenienced (and amused) by our messy fumblings as well. But He allows us — commands us — to come along side Him in His work, and we do so the best we can. So when I have to clean up a flooded kitchen floor because Claire has helped me scrub it, or when I can’t find my measuring spoons because Jacob volunteers to put away the dishes, I swallow down my impatience and instead see burgeoning Christ-followers who will someday understand that imperfect action is better than perfect inaction, that paint-stained hands can be an offering to Him. And, I hope, they will have the memory of their mother telling them, “Yes, my loves, you are so helpful.”

Have patience guiding your children toward helpfulness @McSweeney @BreakingTheSea #Motherhood
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Christa Parrish is the author of four novels, including her most recent Stones for Bread (Thomas Nelson), which released this November. She is married to author Chris Coppernoll and they have four children in their blended family. Connect with Christa: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest

New from Christa Parrish

A solitary artisan. A legacy of bread-baking. And one secret that could collapse her entire identity.

Liesl McNamara’s life can be described in one word: bread. From her earliest memory, her mother and grandmother passed down the mystery of baking and the importance of this deceptively simple food. And now, as the owner of Wild Rise bake house, Liesl spends every day up to her elbows in dough, nourishing and perfecting her craft.

But the simple life she has cultivated is becoming quite complicated. Her head baker brings his troubled grandson into the bakeshop as an apprentice. Her waitress submits her recipes to a popular cable cooking show. And the man who delivers her flour – a single father with strange culinary habits – seems determined to win Liesl’s affection.

When Wild Rise is featured on television, her quiet existence appears a thing of the past. And then a phone call from a woman claiming to be her half-sister forces Liesl to confront long-hidden secrets in her family’s past. With her precious heritage crumbling around her, the baker must make a choice: allow herself to be buried in detachment and remorse, or take a leap of faith into a new life.

Purchase your copy here.

 

Held Fast

I have disappeared from blog land for quite some time now. I have been occupied. Preoccupied. Funny how life just kind of happens to you sometimes. You flit along, minding your own business, busying about with various plans and then, suddenly, plans change.

The things that have occupied me lately fit into a few categories, some relatively mundane and some, well, not so much.

In the more mundane variety, you could fit the category of weather. This is something that tends to end up being a bigger deal for me than it seems to be for most people, and I have, for the most part, made my peace with that fact. But when we do have a string of really cold, and really rainy, weather, like we just had, it still manages to catch me off guard with the intensity of its effect on my mood. All that to say, I have ended up somewhat preoccupied with the effort required to stay warm and dry, and to continue functioning properly in my work as I do so.

In another potentially mundane—but not mundane so far as I’m concerned—category falls my work. Added into the usual mix lately has been a small accumulation of kind of cool un-usuals: coaching has been a fun extra for some time already, and it remains a happy time consumer for me. But I have also been recently readying for my first experience performing with the students in a musical. It’s kind of like a delayed fulfillment of a dream for me, really. In my adult life it has not really occurred to me much but when I was a child and teenager, I had dreams of singing and dancing for performances. The singing I managed to do, but dancing was always just a quiet love of mine. So it’s caught me off guard a bit to be suddenly the Disney singing/dancing character I always secretly dreamed of being [though I would never have admitted to such a girly interest, I suspect ☺] We have now come to the day of the performance. Here’s hoping for a good one: may we all break a leg!

One other occupying life category is not really mundane at all: this particular preoccupation may be written more about in the future . . .

There have been days lately when it’s just been too much of a good thing, and I’ve ended up completely at the end of my rope. As I snagged a 10-minute walk with a friend before a rehearsal the other day, I lamented the fact that I had just ended the workday feeling completely overextended and altogether flustered. I looked up as we talked to see a kite flying overhead. It reminded me of all the times I noticed kites in the last place I lived. I share a bit about the reason I was taking a picture of this one as we walked and, as I did so, I was humbled. There was a time in my life when I was intensely aware of the fact that, like a kite, I was buffeted about by the wind but held fast by a string firmly secured in the hand of my Maker. It was a time of very real danger then and it serves me well to remember now where I have been in the past, where He has brought me to now, and what blessedness He holds for my future . . .

Does #life have you buffeting in the wind like a kite? @McSweeney @GraceAnnaJ
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Encouragement of Job

When you think of Job, the first thing that comes to mind is encouragement isn’t it? I bet not. We mostly think of suffering and friends we could do without. But there really is encouragement in Job. It sits in Job 1:1-2:10, a diamond in the rough.

The first thing I noticed was that God had confidence in Job and his faith. God told Satan “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one on earth like him; he is blameless and upright, a man who fears God and shuns evil.” (Job 1:8) God had confidence in a flawed human being. It’s not the first time God displays that confidence. However, it is the first time the person was going through extreme hardship and heartache. God knew the trials would not shake Job’s faith.

Isn’t it amazing to think that Job’s faith garnered such a response from the Creator of the universe? I’m sure Job did not see it as such, but his trials were actually a privilege. God saw something in Job that he didn’t see in everybody else. He was able to demonstrate the power of faith to overcome adversity through Job. And Job’s story is recorded for all eternity in the Bible and in the hearts and minds of us all. Who can ever forget when Job said, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away, may the name of the Lord be praised.”(Job 1:21) Or even consider, “Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?” (Job 2:10). That’s an amazing response to being left with a bitter wife and a body afflicted with sores.

Looking at Job’s response, let’s ask ourselves how we measure up when handling trials.  Do we see them as a burden or as a privilege? If God has confidence that we can make it through the thing, who are we to argue with Him? He knew Job would be okay and remain steadfast in his faith. If He allows us to endure a trial, He has some faith in us, right? We have to remember that Satan is always looking for an area where he can trip us up. That’s his daily work. Our daily work is to put on our armor and faith and walk right through those obstacles. We should be encouraged and thankful that God trusted that Job could make it through the trials and difficulties he faced. Why? Because it means we can too!

How do you view your #trials? As a trial or a #privilege? @McSweeney @RaleighGirl
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How to Make Today Truly Miserable (Unofficial Unrecommended List)

Open your eyes and think of all you didn’t get done yesterday.
Assume the worst when your husband asks, “So do you have any plans today?” As if you didn’t have a huge to-do list every day.
Push aside your Bible reading and jump into sorting that stinky pile of laundry.
Remember what it used to feel like to wear your skinny, skinny jeans.
Compare your kids to the star athletes and whiz kids your neighbors have.
Compare your house/office/yard to the awesome pics continually reposted on Pinterest.
Walk the mall and point out all the things you wish you had money to buy.

Or

Thank God for what your new day holds.
Give your husband a hug and ask if he has something special in mind. If he doesn’t, tell him you do.
Take time to read your Bible and asking the Creator of the Universe to guide your day.
Appreciate your health and pray and ask God to help you in all areas you are weak.
Hug your kids and tell them what you appreciate most about who God made them to be.
Relax in your favorite part of your house for ten minutes and thank God for what He’s provided.
Go through your closet and pull out clothes you haven’t worn in a while and take them to Goodwill.

The offical unoffical unrecommended list. @McSweeney @TriciaGoyer
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Contentment’s Backward Math

Thanks. Giving. These two words tumble through the month of November like leaves on a dusty road, beckoning us to pause and acknowledge our many, many blessings.

Why do we just reserve one month out of the year for Thanksgiving?

What if we could figure out how to turn our sentiments into a lifestyle of gratitude?

Let’s break it down.

Thanks.

Easy enough. It’s the simple act of  reflecting joy back to the one who gave the gift. As far as etiquette goes, it’s one of the easiest phrases to embrace and practice. It doesn’t evoke the terrifying vulnerability of an  “I love you” and it’s not nearly as humbling as an “I’m sorry.” I can say thank you without even thinking.

And I guess that’s the problem.

Maybe  we should be thinking about thanking.

I mean, think about it.

If God is infinite, aren’t his gifts without end, as well? I shouldn’t have a hard time coming up with thirty days of thankful posts. I shouldn’t be stumped for something clever to say during Thanksgiving dinner when it’s my turn to name a blessing. Most appalling of all, I shouldn’t “forget” to give thanks before I dig into any meal, let alone one of many that actually happens on Thanksgiving day. In a  perfect world where I am grateful beyond words, the music would cue up, and someone would tell me to shut up as the gratitude spilled from my mouth in a current of  thanksgiving that could not be stopped.

But the world is not perfect, and I am selfish, and like everybody else, I find myself wondering what’s in it for me.

When is God going to do something for me?

Giving.

This one is harder. Giving hurts. Giving means that I take something that belongs to me and give it to you. Less for me and more for you. I might not get it back. In fact, I probably won’t get it back.

And yet, there is something so cathartic about giving. Giving is the opposite of wasting. To be sure, I have never missed the things I’ve given away–not my money, not my time, not my talent. Those things are the raw materials that facilitate life change–both in me and in others. When we give, we get to be partners with God in creating something of value that moves people toward a life of meaning. Yes, I will freely give the raw materials that belong to me if it means that I’m a co-creator in helping build something beautiful with God.

Thanks + Giving = Contentment.

We receive and we express our thanks; we get and we give it away. That’s how we live a life of contentment. It’s the opposite of I deserve this. The antithesis of I’ve got this. When I give away what has been given to me, I find that I’m fuller than I’ve ever been. It’s like God multiplies what I have divided and doled out. When you think about it, it’s kind of a miracle. On my own, I’ve never been able to make more from less. But God can, and that’s why I’m content–both when I’m feeling full and when I’m running on empty.

Now that you’re so thankful, how will you express your gratitude this year?

How will you express your gratitude this year? @McSweeney @ChanlynNAdams #Thanksgiving
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Pearl Girls Giveaway!

We’d be thrilled to give a reader a copy of Margaret McSweeney’s book Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace and a $5 Starbucks gift card so you can enjoy a moment to yourself as you are gearing up for the upcoming hustle and bustle of the holiday season!

To be entered to win, just leave a comment letting us know your favorite Starbucks drink (or your favorite holiday drink)! Winner will be announced next Friday!

Congratulations to last week’s winner Shirley Emitt who won a $20 Anthropologie gift card! Please email info@litfusegroup.com!

Enter for your chance to win a great book and @Starbucks gift card from @McSweeney!
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The Whole Enchilada

I remember reading a story some time ago about two sisters who rejoiced with their elderly mother when she called with the news that her recent medical tests had come back ‘cautiously positive.’  To celebrate and give thanks, the three went out for dinner to their favorite Mexican restaurant.

Both sisters had been raised during the Depression and carried with them into their adult lives the practice of eating only half their portions when they dined out, and taking the rest home to be enjoyed the following day.

One sister was thrifty as well as calorie-conscious.  The other was financially secure, but kept an eye on her belt line.  And their mother was easily satisfied with a small meal.

So off they went to eat, laugh, talk, and give thanks for the good news.  Afterwards the sisters said good-bye to their mother and then spent a few moments chatting in the car of the sister who drove.  The sister in the passenger’s seat laid her box of leftovers on the back seat.  When they arrived at her house, she waved good-bye and walked inside feeling free of worry, and happy with the lovely evening spent with the women she loved most in the world.

Suddenly she was ravenously hungry. But as she looked for the carry-out box she realized she had left it in her sister’s car.  Oh no!  The enchiladas she had so carefully saved for another time were gone—for good. She laughed out loud at her own foolishness.  It was a time to feast, but she had been frugal.

And the moral of the story for me as I read it?  Sometimes you have to shove all care to the wind (not everyday, certainly) but some days, and eat and savor and finish every morsel with the ones you love, especially with those who may not be here tomorrow.

Sometimes you just have to eat the whole piece of cake—or in this case—the whole enchilada, and then relish the memory of having lived fully in that moment and be thankful.

Jesse’s Firehouse Enchiladas**

INGREDIENTS

4 boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 (8-ounce) package cream cheese, softened

1 medium onion, chopped

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

1-1/2 teaspoons garlic powder

1 (14-ounce) can chopped tomatoes

1 (4-ounce) can chopped green chiles

photo: www.talkoftomatoes.com

1-1/2 teaspoons ground cumin

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1/2 teaspoon ground curry powder

1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

Hot pepper sauce

1 cup sour cream, plus more for garnish

Nonstick cooking spray

8 large flour tortillas

2 cups mozzarella cheese, shredded

1 cup Monterey Jack cheese, shredded

For garnish: chopped lettuce, diced tomatoes, sour cream, avocados, salsa, etc…

INSTRUCTIONS

Put the chicken in a saucepan and add enough water to cover. Bring a boil and cook for 30 minutes. Remove the chicken from the water and let cool. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Dice the chicken and transfer to a medium-size mixing bowl.

Add the cream cheese, onion, half the salt, half the pepper, and 1 teaspoon of garlic powder. Stir to mix and set aside. In a blender, combine the tomatoes, chiles, cumin, coriander, curry, and the remaining garlic powder, salt and pepper, and 5 to 6 dashes of hot pepper sauce. Blend until smooth. Add the sour cream and pulse to blend.

Spray a 9×13-inch pan with cooking spray. Place the tortillas on work surface and fill each with about 1/4 cup of the chicken mixture and roll into a cylinder. Lay the tortillas evenly in the prepared pan. Pour the tomato sauce over the tortillas. Cover with foil and bake for 45 minutes. Remove the foil. Cover with shredded cheese and return to oven for 5 to 10 minutes or until the cheese is melted. Serve with lettuce, tomatoes, and additional sour cream.

Yield: 4 servings

**from Emeril’s Firehouse Cook Off

Savor every moment with the ones you love. @MargaretMcSweeney @KarenOconnor #family
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Conversations with My Dad

A while back, my sister and I visited my Dad when he was living in his Alzheimer’s facility. It’s a cheerful place, considering it’s the last stop for dementia patients, and I admire how kind the staff is to my dad and the others.

But it’s still a catch in the heart to see him there. My dad was a man who was always in motion, rarely still. Wendy and I found him in his room, just staring out the window.

And it is really hard to see the different stages of the other patients. Dad’s room is in a suite and his “roommate” is a man named Eugene. I’ve never seen Eugene other than in bed, tucked into a fetal position.

Other bodies are kind of draped in chairs around the living area. It’s actually kind of. . .surreal. This facility is in Palo Alto, California. Many of these patients were Stanford educated, highly professional individuals who had full, rich lives. Nobody ever dreamed the end of their life would be like this.

My sister and I took Dad outside to the garden. Wouldn’t you know that Dad keyed right in on the gate to get out? Like a dog with a bone. He kept pointing to it, indicating with his limited vocabulary that we could flee! Escape while we could!

It warmed my heart to see a glimpse of the old Dad . . .planning a breakout.

The next evening, we went to some friends’ home for a potluck dinner. My assignment was to bring a salad, I thought, so I had stopped at the store early that day to get the ingredients.

However, I was mistaken.

My assignment was dessert.

Those are the kinds of slip-ups that strike terror in one’s heart when a parent has Alzheimer’s. EEEKKK! The first sign.

@SuzanneWFisher shares encouragment for those whose parents have Alzheimer's. @McSweeney
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Curing the Holiday Hiccups | Deb DeArmond

“Aren’t you just devastated?” my colleague moaned.

“No, not really. I mean, we will certainly miss them,” I replied. “But they are clear that California is where God is taking them. I want them to be where He wants them to be. It was such a gift to have them here for two years.”

My friend and I were catching up on what we had done over the weekend. I had told her about a dinner last Friday evening, hosted by my hubby and I — a gathering for a few family members in our new home. The purpose of the event was to share a meal and bid farewell to my oldest son and his wife as they prepared to relocate back to the west coast. They were set to leave the next morning.

“Oh, that would just be impossible to think about,” she said, shaking her head. “I couldn’t stand to lose my boys.”

Her boys are in elementary school. I can clearly understand her feelings, even if I don’t share them. But I did at one time . . .

My boys are all grown up with careers, with families – all adults. It takes some getting used to – that awareness that mom and dad are not the central force in their lives. But we did get used to it and appreciate God’s clarity about the concept of leaving and cleaving. “Train up a child in the way he should go . . .” the Word says. Most importantly, Mama, remember they are to GO.

With summer winding down and the fall holidays approaching quickly, I want to encourage you to remember that God set them apart to stand with their spouses. That can become an issue and a bone of contention when it comes to holiday celebrations. Here are a couple of tips to make the season far more enjoyable for everyone:

• Communicate early. Make sure you discuss what everyone’s plans or intentions are for celebrating the holiday. Make no assumptions, as it will surely disappoint you and them.

• Be flexible as to what and when and where and how – and you may be surprised with the best day ever! Traditions are great, but if they no longer work, create some new ones.

• Be fair. You don’t get to have them 100% of the time. They have in-laws, friends, and may decide that this year is not your year. Don’t pout or punish them. Make your own plans and prepare for a lovely time.

• Celebrate their independence. It’s a sign you did a great job of prepping them for adulthood. This is what is supposed to happen, and because it did, you can rejoice.

So don’t hold so tightly to those adult kids that they want to squirm free of your grip. Make this holiday season one of the best celebrations ever.

Don't hold tightly to your adult kids. @McSweeney @DebDeArmond #parenting #motherhood
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Deb DeArmond is an expert in the fields of communication, relationship and conflict resolution. A writer and professional speaker, Deb focuses on topics related to the family and women. Kregel Publications will release her first book in November 2013 entitled, Related by Chance, Family by Choice, focused on relationships between women-in-law. She is co-founder of My Purpose Now, a website devoted to Christian women 50+. Read Deb at Family Matters/Deb DeArmond and My Purpose Now. You can connect with Deb by clicking on the following links: Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.

New from Deb DeArmond

The caricatures are everywhere, the jokes are inexhaustible, and the stereotypes fill the screens. From Marie Barone (Everyone Loves Raymond) to Viola Fields (Monster-in-Law) to Internet sites and social media pages like ihatemyinlaws.com and a Facebook page for ihatemymotherinlaw there is no shortage of examples of the caustic relationships that can develop between the two women in a man’s life.

Deb DeArmond and her three daughters-in-law have conducted their own exhaustive research into the status of the women-in-law relationship. Their research, which incorporated online surveys, interviews, and discussions, included asking about the faith factor in the relationships they studied. Of the respondents, nearly 90 percent claimed they were Christians, and 79 percent said their faith was foundational and guided their actions and decisions. As discouraging as it may be, the numbers of those they surveyed who reported that their women-in-law relationships were “bad” were nearly identical to those in a survey conducted by a popular secular website that recorded no statistics on faith.

Beyond the statistics and their analysis, Deb brings to this book more than thirty years working with adults to improve communications and deal constructively with conflict. Aside from her research and her professional expertise, perhaps the most important asset Deb brings to this work is her own relationship with her three daughters-in-law that is so obviously and unusually positive that she—and they—are often asked to explain the secret of the relationships they share.

This practical and unapologetically scriptural book covers issues of personal perceptions, strained communication, the roles of sons and fathers in the relationship’s success, how to begin these relationships on the right foot, and the necessity of trust and love. Deb’s one motivating objective is to help women-in-law move from women who are simply related to strong and confident members of a truly spiritual family.

Purchase your copy here.

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How Do You Make Him Look?

It all started in college. He would call me from across campus and ask if I could help, and I would go down two flights of stairs and out the side door, to see him standing there with his dress shirt.

Smiling, I would give him a hello and then take his shirt up to my dorm room and iron it.

A few minutes later I would hand him a pressed shirt and send him on his way.

A quarter of a century later and this preacher husband of mine is now the one who walks down the stairs. He still looks like that young college guy I remember when he says, You’ll pick me out something to wear?

While he drains the hot water tank trying to wake up to face the day, I pick him out a pair of dress slacks, iron him a dress shirt, and hang them like a uniform from the quilt rack on the wall outside the bathroom door.

Brown or black shoes with these? he asks.  

I help not because he’s lazy or incapable but because I love him.

What color t-shirt underneath? he asks.

As he gathers keys and stands by the door, I make sure his sleeves are rolled up just so and check to make sure his collar isn’t doing anything funky.

He says, Yeah, you’re in charge of making sure I look good.

“Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.”  Proverbs 31:23.

My preacher husband takes his place at church Saturday night, and he looks might fine, if I do say so myself.

It’s our job to make our husbands look good, and I’m not talking about just ironing boards and straightened collars. We also do this with how we talk about them to other people and how we treat them in public. We can easily give a wrinkled look to our husband’s character, if we speak derogatory words about him to other people. We make him look unkempt, if we demean him in public.

As wives, we have a role to play in making sure our men look respectable when they leave the house.

Are you making a rich contribution to the respect your husband gets in his public life?

Do you contribute to the respect your husband gets in public? @McSweeney @Christy_Fitz
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