Real Life Reflections

My Dearest Momma: The other day this question was asked of me, "if you could have anyone in the world, alive or dead, cook Thanksgiving dinner for you, who would it be?" My thoughts immediately filled with a pantry of famous cooks/chefs: Emeril, Gordon Ramsey, Martha Stewart, Nick Miller ;). What an experience that would be - a gourmet Thanksgiving dinner with all my favorite foods, which, of course, would be made without dairy or any other ingredient that would incite rebellion in my inner parts. These thoughts, however, lasted barely seconds as your beautiful face came into focus. While it may be true that the world at large would choose a turkey a'la Emeril rather than yours, they wouldn't know what they were missing. Preparing a Thanksgiving Day feast is no mean feat, but there's an element that I've missed all these years - so obvious, I never noticed it; so assumed, so taken for granted that it never even touched my consciousness until now. Why would I c

"Hey, let's get in the boat and row to the other side of the lake! What d'ya think?" We all agreed wholeheartedly. It was a beautiful night. "Great idea!" We doused the fire, tossed our gear into the boat, then climbed in and pushed off. The sky was clear and inky black, sprinkled generously with brilliant stars, twinkling like the eyes of children at play. The surface of the lake was glass. It reflected the heavens above it. Gorgeous. Nature at its best. Then without warning, a powerful gust of wind smacked the side of our boat, then another, and another! At the same time, clouds rushed the night sky and opened above us to release sheets of rain. Waves crashed down over and over and over! We scrambled around in a frenzy, bumping into each other, slipping, sliding as the boat rocked from side to side. We yelled! We cried out as waves knocked us off our feet! We frantically tried to bail the water that was so quickly filling the boat. As we rode a sudden gian

Trials. Hard times. A rough patch. Call them what you will, we all go through them. It seems to me that the longer I live, the longer those seasons last and the shorter the time between them. Rarely do I wake up one morning to find that all is right with my world. The troubles of the past few months gone with the fluttering of my opening eyes. They typically peter out and they often peter in. Sometimes the end of one rough patch is blurred with the beginning of another, and I'm not quite sure if the first one ever actually ended or just took a breather. We had a guest speaker at our church this past Sunday. He's not really a guest though. He and his wife are from England, but they were a part of our church for five years. He's more like visiting family - family that you want to see and always wish they could stay longer. They're wonderful people, he and his wife. Hearts of gold. Humble. Wise. Fun. We spent the evening with them last night and the time flew by. His mess