This is Love

It all started when our missions minded full of love daughter had a layover in Amsterdam, on her return trip from Uganda. She brought me a bag of tulip bulbs from the airport gift shop.  One wondering glance at that bag of bulbs and the huge empty flower beds turned into the hubby ordering more tulip bulbs along with a few daffodils. 200 more bulbs. The back breaking bulb planting day was the day the Christmas lights came down. Then on the official first day of spring the flower beds were full of blooms.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but delights in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)

And love is tulips. And love is daffodils. 

So, if you pass by my house today, enjoy the love.

A Lesson in Trust

"Go with us", they said. "It will be fun. It's not hard. You'll be glad you did it." So I paid the money, signed the waiver, and strapped on the harnesses and clips and ropes and caution-light yellow helmet. Then granddaughter gave her short bit of eleven year old advice: "It's all about trust."

Great. Just great. Trust.

The back of my t-shirt is emblazoned boldly with Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." Surely Paul the prisoner did not mean zip lining through tree tops at 30 miles an hour. The scripture I carried on my back and in my heart may have been bold, but I was trembling.

What was I thinking.

Up three flights of narrow steps. Take a picture. Stand on the mini platform.  Hold the rope here. Yell as loud as you can "Scared silly grandmother zipping."  Lift your feet and do all things through Christ's strength. 

I hung on to that rope with all the strength I could find in my flabby granny arms, because when you come to the end of your rope, you tie a knot in it and hang on. Then my grip slipped and my double harness and pair of ropes held me. Do it in His strength and not mine for when I am weak He is strong.

It's all about trust.

We zip through life and hang on with our own weak strength going from one shaky platform to another when all we really need to do is lift our feet and relax.

And trust in the Lord with all our hearts and lean not on our own understandings.  Proverbs 3:5

Beach Photobomb Tips

Our family just spent a week on the Emerald Coast of Destin, Florida, but we spent months beforehand searching for the best beach, the best vacation rental, the best restaurants, the best activities, and the best ways to record your vacation memories.

Here are the Beach Photography tips I gleaned from the world wide web:

1. Begin your shoot an hour before sunset

2. Use Available props (and pretend that someone else's sandcastle is your masterpiece).

3. Take a jumping shot (even if teenage boy decides to jump like a girl)

4. Make sure your subjects maintain eye contact

(unless someone yells, "Stingray"!) 

5. Plan your poses (but expect photo bombs).

6. Pose to appear slimmer (stretch your neck like a turtle and hide behind the grandchildren.)

7. Have Daddy hold the baby. 

8. Know your equipment.

9. Use a tripod and the timer on your camera so that everyone can be in the picture (and if you forget the little quick release attachment thingy you can always tie the camera to the tripod with a shoestring).

10. Shoot from the front.

11. Shoot from the back (even if they are shaking their booties).

12. Take a lot of pictures because you just might get a lucky hair shot.

13. Photograph feet (including sunburned one's)

14. Take photos from a distance (but then you can't pretend you are the only ones on the beach)

15. Plan ahead to wear coordinating clothes (white, black/white, khaki/white, or pastels) so that no one has to go to the thrift store and buy clothes that make her look fat.

16. Catch a child exploring her environment.

17. Show the beach love.

18. Write in the sand

19. Take sunset shots over the water (unless the sun sets somewhere else).

20. Say Goodbye to the beach.

The End 

(there they go again)!

Thanks, family, for the greatest beach vacation ever!

Taco Crisis

There has been a lot of news coverage lately about identity conflict.

I have decided that if loving tacos is any indication, 

then I have a serious identity conflict.

 In North Dakota, 

I almost had up the nerve to defy my husbands orders to not stop at the taco bus

 (yes, a big yellow school bus with a hand painted "TACO" sign),

 when it caught fire and burned. 

The locals recommend the Mexican Food Restaurant in Williston, 

but I usually say that Texans don't eat Mexican food north of Amarillo.

 However, one day we saw a hand painted sign from down the street. 

It just said,

"TACOS"

I stuck my head in the door, did the sniff test, then surveyed the non-gringo clientele.

 The owner said he was from Mexico and that he makes street tacos.

I love tacos -

corn tortilla, shredded beef, chicken, pork, or fish 

with guacamole, lettuce, fresh salsa, cilantro, and a little lime.

I luuuuuv tacos

and I speak enough Spanglish to get me in trouble.

My earliest memories of tacos were from Carlos' Little Mexico

 in my hometown Texas.

Then my mama's homemade tacos were next.

 Her recipe was delish:

one pound of browned ground beef

one can of Wolf Brand Chili

served in 

corn tortillas dipped in hot Crisco.

The blazing orange grease dripped off our elbows when we ate them.

Oh, they were good.

Of course there's not enough Rolaids in the state of Texas to get me to eat one now.

My next memory was hanging out in the chinaberry tree

 with Jimmy, the neighbor kid.  

The tree was right beside our farm workers' temporary hacienda behind my Daddy's shop. 

 I can almost still smell the frijoles, lard, tortillas, and kerosene cook stove.  

They came from Mexico legally to move irrigation pipe, hoe weeds, and pick cotton. 

This is Shorty, who was our trusted favorite playing with me. 

I have curlers in my hair - that means it was Saturday. 

We always washed and curled our hair on Saturday.

I wish I still had that car.

Years later, Shorty tried to come back to us,

 but was turned away at the border because he had T.B. (tuberculosis). 

My how things have changed at the border.

On our little 19 day trip through the Pacific Northwest, 

we came through a little town in Idaho that had a taco wagon on every corner.

 Really. 

Almost.

We imagined and theorized for an hour about how they all got there. 

We decided they must have come to work in the potato fields,

 but found tacos to be more lucrative.

Who knows?

Somehow menus written in Spanish give taco wagons the most credibility.

I have tried to perfect my own Mexican food cooking skills during my stay in North Dakota

 and have come up with the best 

Taco Seasoning recipe:

1 Tablespoon Chili Powder

1 Tablespoon Ground Cumin

1 Tablespoon Garlic Powder

1 Tablespoon Onion Powder

1/4 Tablespoon Crushed Red Pepper

Of course, I make it by the quart.

I love tacos.

If I have an identity conflict, 

then I must identify as 

a 

TACO.

~~~

Si!

Me encantan los tacos!

Everything Esther

She is everywhere I turn.  Last month she was at a ladies' retreat in West Texas. Monday she was in the news. Yesterday she was at school.  Today is her celebration day. She is going back to North Dakota with me.

Esther was a young Jewish orphan being raised by her cousin in Persia, where Jews had been taken as captives. She became queen through a beauty pageant and kept her ethnicity a secret - until she was made aware of a plot to kill all Jewish people. She called her people to fast before she revealed the plot to the King. She saved her people from destruction by the king's edict allowing them to defend themselves. The king had the Jews' enemy, Haman, hung on the very gallows meant for Esther's cousin, Mordecai. (Esther 1-10). Her bravery saved her people from death.

The Old Testament Book of Esther is the only book in the Bible that does not mention God.  But He is there.  He. Is. There.

Godly Girlfriends Retreats 2015 retreat theme is Esther. Her story was told beautifully through, song, dance and each of the speakers. She inspired us to rise above our circumstances, our pasts, and our pain to become the women God created us to be. We were reminded that as daughters of THE KING, we are royalty and are called "for such a time as this". To visit Godly Girlfriends Retreats, click HERE. While you are there, visit the blog for a few pictures of our weekend together. I am packing my bags with everything Esther to take back to North Dakota. Twenty-five Texas goldy girlfriends will join me there in May to share Esther's inspiration and the love of Jesus at another retreat. 

Three days ago, Benjamin Netanyahu, Prime Minister of Israel, referred to the story of Esther in his controversial speech to Congress. The connection? Ancient Persia is modern day Iran. Prime Minister Netanyahu sees Iran as a grave threat to the peace of Israel and the entire world. 

Today is March 5th. Every spring, Israel celebrates Esther's story during Purim. This year, Purim is celebrated from sunset March 4 to nightfall March 5.  Her story is read in synagogues from The Scroll of Esther - the megillah - in Hebrew. The celebration takes on a carnival atmosphere which includes Esther costumes, hissing at the name of Haman, traditional foods, and drinking wine.  In fact some drink until they can't tell the difference between the phrases, "cursed be Haman", and "blessed be Mordecai".  

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem:

 May those who love you be secure.

 (Psalm 122:6)

May you live to see

your children's children - 

peace be on Israel

(Psalm 128:6)