lasagna & snowflakes

Sunday afternoon became a mess of panic-stricken hurrying to accomplish... something. In my determination, when the computer took time to catch up with itself, I took to cleaning and straightening... not wanting to waste a minute. When the ringing phone interrupted my go-go-going, I paused but then gave in to answering it... since through the magic of caller id I knew who was waiting on the other end. I certainly don't claim to be focused, and I eagerly welcomed distraction from a friend. And it was a call worth answering. An invitation? For dinner? Tonight? I could have said No, I really have so much I need to get done tonight... but I never did fit in a trip to the grocery store and my family was likely to have stale crackers and lunch meat for dinner... so I accepted. It turned out to be more than an invitation... it was also motivation to keep on working... but maybe more than that. Her phone call felt like a life-line in my afternoon... once the offer was made I knew that it was exactly what I needed. An invitation to relax... with friends who don't mind if you show up for dinner in your pajamas. And I suppose there is not much that a glass of wine and a dinner I did not have to cook won't fix. Add in a lesson on making paper snowflakes and a little singing & dancing (complete with jazz hands) in the kitchen and the crushing stress of my procrastination had all but vanished.
Friendship. Laughter. Lasagna. Corny music and jazz hands.
I will have to remember this recipe the next time I pile too much up on life's plate...

Unwrap a Tuesday with Emily at Chatting at the Sky...

hear my prayer

The memory has been sitting on my heart… heavily, I suppose. It was a beautiful moment, and it keeps calling me to prayer… day after day… hour upon hour.

She courageously left her hat back at her seat as she slowly made her way up for communion. Her family surrounded her… but her eight year old daughter especially caught my eye as she hopped on one shiny, patent leather shoe. She held her other foot just lightly off the ground, as to not dirty her white lace cuffed sock, and she leaned… just a bit towards her mother for balance. And with a sense of love so desperate that I could feel it, Kathy laid her hand upon her daughter’s cheek. Those slender fingers, once strong but now frail, spoke a lifetime to my heart. And in that instant, my own heart cried out for healing louder than it ever had before. They stood as a family... receiving the body and blood of Jesus... and the ache in my heart worked itself in a little deeper.

That day… plays vividly through my mind… and my knowledge of her courage and joy for each precious day attempt to cover my tears. In one selfish moment my heart cries out that I could not bear to lose another friend... and in the next... I am ashamed that I could even put myself into the equation. And with grace... God brings to me the real reason I pray for healing. The husband who adores her. The children who rely on her love for comfort, strength, example, and... balance. Her family... who can not bear the thought of her not being by their side in this lifetime. I don’t know if my prayers will be answered in the way I hope for… but I know that He hears me. And I know… that each and every day is a gift.

imaginary friends

Her name was Josie. To me, she was silly and no more than a game. But to my sister... she was a playmate and a confidante. Though I didn't even know who Josie and the Pussycats were, I just knew that was where this Josie came from. But I was wrong... she was just Josie. Tina's Josie. She rode in the car with us. She played dolls with us. She was always there... right beside my sister. I don't think she lived with us for very long, but while she did, she was as real to Tina as I was...

Imaginary friends. As a little girl, I never had one. And while I may have been a smidgen jealous of this friend who resided in my sister's heart, I knew that she had room for me, too. Before long, imaginary friends were a thing of the past, and learning what it meant to be a real friend became the highlight of my week. Making plans for our Thursday half-a-day, or heading out for a Brownie meeting... riding bikes around the neighborhood and through the woods. I began to really know what it was to be a friend... to cultivate relationships and treat others the way I would want to be treated. And real friends... they don't fade from your heart.

Last week I was lonely and disconnected... and I realized a Tuesday gift on a Friday. That my blogging friends are not imaginary... but real. I might not recognize their face if I passed them in an aisle in Target, but surely I would recognize their heart. My mouse skitters around their e-mailed comments or follow up notes... so as to save them for just a bit longer. Because those words... they erase the imaginary part of our friendship. Those words are tangible, and they make our friendship real...and they inspire me to know that my words might matter. Those words... they are gifts... from their hearts to mine... and back again... like a footprint on my soul.

I was so sad to miss Tuesday last week... because Tuesdays just aren't the same without my very real blogging friends... and the chance to unwrap the day with Emily....

Kelli is having trouble getting her link to work at Chatting at the Sky... but her post is too sweet to miss: Kelli's Tuesdays Unwrapped post

the little things...

My calendar tells me that Autumn begins today. The air tells me another story... but I will be patient. My calendar also tells me that the end of my secret keeping is just hours away (come back tomorrow if the curiosity is killing you as much as the anticipation is killing me!) But while I sit and wait... there are a few little things that keep popping into my head... and making me smile.

...my Friday night spot up in the bleachers... watching my girl march her heart out. A surprise visit from friends just added to the fun of the already friend-filled evening. Gosh... I love marching band, and all that comes with it.

...a little girl alternating between riding her rip-stick and hanging out in the stands with her dad while they watch her brother play football. How I wish their Mom was siting there... right beside them. But just seeing Abby smile makes my heart smile. And knowing that Jacob has found his passion with football gives my soul a little contentment. Lisa would be thrilled.

...my son- who has grown three inches since the end of July. Yes... three. No wonder he needs new clothes.

...a man baking pumpkin bread in my kitchen. What is not to smile about?!

...friendships. Old. New. Renewed.

...the way my nice-as-pie smile eventually turned the Verizon lady's attitude around to my advantage.

It was only a sunny smile, and it cost little in the giving. But like morning light, it scattered the night, and it made the day worth living. -anonymous

Something else that makes me smile? Unwrapping a Tuesday at Chatting at the Sky. Well, not just Tuesdays...

friendship and a tiara

It was a long week (why does it seem that the short ones always are?), and a day that stretched on without much motivation, try as I might. But I let her half-drag me out to a movie that I didn’t care about, because she is my friend, and I really wanted to spend some time with her. No time for dinner, we slipped through the drive-thru at Chik-fil-a... and I noticed the pink balloons, proclaiming Princess Night. I almost wished to be eating inside... but the very polite young man managed to find me a spare tiara, and that, with the Polynesian sauce, sweetened my mood... just enough to make it over to the movie theatre.
The movie was not great... and that, combined with a large group loud pre-teen girls scurrying in and out of the show (I really didn’t blame them, I just wished they hadn’t bumped my seat so often) was only made worse by my sweater not keeping me warm enough. But even bad movies do end... and when we finally left the theatre, the sky was pouring down sheets of rain into the dark night. Not a great scenario for driving… and as she was clutching the steering wheel, I offered to drive her car… because that is what friends are for.
Back at her house… safe from the pouring rain and the pre-teen chatterboxes… we peeked into the fridge, and discovered just enough wine for two friends to share. With a clink of glasses, we were able to sit on the couch and visit… and with my feet tucked up under me, and a tiara on my head, I was finally right where I wanted to be. The rest of day faded out as we sat there and visited… laughing and listening. And I am ever thankful for just such a friend.

Emily, thanks for letting me share my Tuesday (on a Saturday) Moment...
Tuesdays Unwrapped

can i ask a favor?

It has been quite a week... words are swirling through my head and my heart... and can't seem to find their way out. But can I ask you to pray?
For Kathy, who is doing her best to recover.
For Joyce, who is beginning on a journey I wouldn't wish on anyone.
For Deb, who is on that same journey... for the second time.
For Chris, who is grieving a loss so close to his heart.
For a young man... waiting for test results.
For Suz' Grandma... and Suz herself.
For all of the families and friends who love these people...
Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

personalized

Growing up, one of my favorite stores was Paperama. There you could find those glamorous tissue paper disco balls in every pastel color, bridal shower umbrellas that rained paper rose petals... along with every other paper good to make your party complete. They also had... personalized pencils. I would spin that rack 'round and around... searching for my name. More often than not... I would walk away frustrated and move along to the next spinner. Once in a great while though, my name did indeed appear among the others... and when that happened, my face could hardly contain my smile. I didn't need to have the item... just knowing my name had appeared was somehow enough.

So why... did I choose an unusual name for my sweet son? Truthfully, there have been moments when I have regretted my choice. I do recall thinking about this when we were choosing names... but I had fallen so completely in love with the name before he was even a breath in my body... and then there was no other choice to make. I rationalized that the name Cameron was so popular that someone was bound to start personalizing things with Cam... but I was wrong. Maybe, if Laura's name wasn't stamped across pencils and rulers and... well, stamps, then I might not feel so badly. And while life is not necessarily fair... I know that in this instance, I had a hand in the unfairness. My guilt has prompted me to celebrate his name and urge him to feel more special than left out. And being the great kid he is... that line of thought has been embraced whole-heartedly. Over the years, we have made due... and gone out of our way to find opportunity- we had a sheriff's star engraved at Disney World... we have had leather bracelets stamped... and we have sent away for items to be inscribed. It might seem silly to some... but if you have ever looked for your name and been disappointed, then you just might understand.

This week... a very special friend made my son's eyes light up and his mouth squish up in an "o" before it quickly unfolded into a grin. On her trip to Maine... she dug behind all of the pink hats and found a blue one... and brought it home... for a boy whose name is almost as extraordinary as he is.

To be honest... Camden's eyes weren't the only ones to light up... although my eyes might have been the only ones moist with love.

just what i needed

Uncomfortably shifting in my seat, in more than a bit of pain... I decided to take a quick check on my e-mail. And there was a note from beautiful Kat. Telling me to go and check out (in)courage... because I had won their t-shirt. And the tears came... in sobs. Because He knows. He knows just what we need. What I need. And tonight... I need some courage. Tomorrow I am going for an exploratory procedure on my bladder. Yeah. It isn't really what I had planned for my day off. But I am going... and I am scared. There is something wrong, I know. And I want to know what the next step is... but gosh... I am scared. Of the pain. Of the problem. Just scared. I keep calling His name... and I know He is here... just waiting for me to set my fear in His mighty hands. So here I go... setting it down. With courage. And a good bit of denial. But I know... tomorrow when my husband kisses me as I am sent on my way... that God will travel the rest of the way with me. And He will hold me... and my fear... and wipe my tears away.

the recipe

I don't think I have ever posted a recipe... but this casserole got a lot of compliments, and it is quite yummy! This is something I found in Taste of Home... years ago. I first made it for a group of girlfriends that came to scrapbook... and I remember taking it out of the oven and being so pleasantly surprised (okay shocked!) that it looked as beautiful in person as it had in the magazine. And it was so delicious. This is my go-to meal... for a pot-luck or for a sick friend. So, here is the recipe... from the Taste of Home... with a few tweaks by me.

Chicken Biscuit Bake
1 can cream of "something" soup
2/3 cup mayonnaise
2-3 t Worcestershire sauce (you know I have plenty of this!)
4 c cubed chicken (or canned chicken, or a rotisserie chicken)
3 cups frozen broccoli florets, cooked (or not... thawed is okay)
1 medium onion, chopped (I never remember the onion!)
1 c shredded cheddar cheese (or whatever kind you have in the fridge!)
2 tubes refrigerated buttermilk biscuits
2 eggs
1/2 c sour cream
2 t celery seed

In a bowl, combine soup, mayo & Worcestershire sauce. Stir in chicken, broccoli & onion (if you remembered it!) Transfer to a greased 9x13 baking dish and sprinkle the top with cheese. Cover and bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes. Separate the biscuits and cut each in half. Arrange over the top of the hot chicken mixture (if you use the same biscuits I use, you'll get three long rows of 13 biscuit halves, with one extra.) In a bowl, mix together the eggs, sour cream and celery seed; pour over the biscuits. Bake, uncovered, 20 minutes loner, or until golden brown. Easy. And delicious.

yearbook starts with y

In just a few weeks, my high school class will meet and catch up on the last twenty years. I have to say that I am not going. I had originally planned on it. I was excited to be there. But finances got in the way. And I just felt like if I had an extra $800 laying around (hahaha!) wouldn't I rather spend it on spending time with the people I love? You know, rather than spending it on seeing people I haven't spoken to in years and years... and can visit on Facebook (yuck) if I feel the need? If I lived around the corner... or even a few states closer, I think I would go. Because yes... there are people I want to see... wanted to maybe renew a friendship with.

But I wonder... if those people I used to know... would they know me now? Would they recognize the girl who was in the woman I am? Because I have grown... a lot. I am more outspoken... more fun... more aware of who I am, and who I need to walk through each day. And if they read my words and saw my heart... would they recognize me? Or would they wonder? Years and years have passed... dreams have come and gone... life has molded and shaped me. Am I the same person? Am I different? Or am I just more?

True friends carry on... and on into your life. Those are the people who know me best... and recognize me today... as that same girl from long ago. And as I glance through my yearbook, I realize again that there is a time and season for everything...

Working my way from Z to A with Jen at Unglazed!