Category: Seasons

Hope

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Snow pouring down. Cold, wet, gray, and blindingly white. Mirrors my soul a bit. Yet, hope is like a thing with feathers, indeed. Somehow just acknowledging that I can’t control others, that I have to love despite hate and frustrations, and that I am loved deeply and completely despite my flaws. This hope truly perches in my soul. It takes wing and it soars into the doubting parts of myself, it alights on the self-loathing and pecks away at it. It sings beautifully in the face of the storm, no matter its fury. I gaze at my new, wonderful bird feeder. It has been inundated with Dark-Eyed Juncos. Fluffy, fat, delightful fellows. They don’t seem to see the snow. They shake it off, dance a bit, grab the seed, and flutter in happiness. Those seeds of hope. There is always joy, love, and light in any bit of darkness. Jesus is that Hope. A gentleness and love pours from Him, making me great, strengthening me to sing again and again in the face of bracing winds, and icy fingers of life. Hope to sing long and loud, hope to rise up on wings like eagles.

 

{ Emily Dickinson’s poem Hope is a Thing with Feathers, Psalm 18:35, Isaiah 40:31}

 

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Ginger Snaps

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These are so delicious. Soft, chewy, and spicy.  Just thought I would share one of our favorite autumn and winter cookie recipes. These are what I’m giving our neighbors for Christmas this year.

(I adapted this recipe from online years ago, so forgive me for not giving due credit!)

Ginger Snaps

1/2 cup melted butter

1 cup sugar

1 egg

1/2 cup molasses

2 cups flour

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon ginger

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon salt

 

~Beat butter and sugar together. Add egg. Stir in molasses. Add dry ingredients. Roll into balls. Roll in sugar. I like to use parchment paper on my pans. If you double or triple this recipe, be careful with the molasses. I actually use 3/4 cup of molasses on a doubled recipe.

Bake in a 350 degree oven for 8-10 minutes or until firm. These are good warm, but GREAT second day, cooled and chewy. Great for dipping in coffee or milk. 🙂

Yum!  🙂

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Love

amyofhearthridge2 Comments

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Have you ever thought that people give love the way they understand it?  It might be a hot meal prepared for us, hugs given, kind words, gifts, or working hard to provide for us. The way love is given and received is a complicated thing. We all are shaped by our personalities, upbringing, and experiences, from a baby, fast forwarding to who we are now.

As a follower of Jesus Christ, my love should grow and move beyond just my understanding. It begins to become something that defies all explanation and boxes that I can put it in. It transcends how I was raised or my personalities and experiences. It begins to be unexplainable.

Why?  Jesus Christ.  He is my Ultimate Example. He humbled Himself to become a lowly person. He came from the Throne Room and chose not only to be human, but the lowest form.  He gives love in a way that I will never understand and it defies all finite logic. You can’t figure this sort of Love out with your mind.  I have to take it by faith.

I was lying on my bed, comfy beneath my quilts, when these thoughts started rumbling around in my head. Maybe something between a desperate prayer for help in all my relationships, and the half dreamlike state I find myself in before the first hot cup of coffee.

What if I could see clearly the why behind how people love?  What if I could read their minds? What if I could receive their love perfectly and give love perfectly to each person I  meet?  It could radically change the way relationships and the world works. However, I can’t do this perfectly in a fallen world.  I have to by faith choose to love like Jesus. It isn’t easy, but far too often I use the difficulty of something as an excuse to not even try.

I am super challenged to gaze at the Amazing Love Jesus lavishes on me.  I’m challenged to take this love by faith and not try to figure it out. Just to bask under it, believe it, and live through it. Loving that child when they are super difficult because Jesus loves difficult me.  Not trying to guess and judge suspiciously the motives of people around me, but to love and care for them with no strings attached.  Loving with no fear, because relationships are going to hurt, expose, use, and frustrate me.  I’m challenged because Jesus loved without fear. He was ridiculed, abandoned, and killed, yet He didn’t let that hold back His love. Loving and accepting myself as a creation of God, not by some arbitrary standard the culture measures with or experiences that have influenced my view of myself.

I want to love as Jesus loves, a defying Love. This is a “radical” love that rejects all hurt, hate, and frustrations. Love that views people and relationships as the main reason for living, working, and dying. Jesus loves people! Nothing can ever be more important to Him then the saving love and redemption of all people. A relationship between Him and us. I waste far too much time focusing on trivial things and forget His unconditional love.  And then I start thinking too much and distrusting too often. I try to figure out all the catch phrases in the Christian culture…tough love, love the sinner not the sin, discipleship, theology, and on and on.  Maybe there is an element of truth in them, but the truth comes back to Jesus. Just love. For me, I must move away from rationalizing, figuring things out, judging, or categorizing and begin to love in the raw.

I’m unfinished, and unlovable and yet Jesus loves me with a PERFECT, unending love. He moves, working in me to strengthen me in right choices against my sinful nature and hatred and craziness, but His first ingredient is love. Jesus loves all the bare, insecure parts of me because He is Love. I don’t have to understand any part of this, I just have to believe it. May I love even a fraction like this!

~

Harold E. Kohn

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Winter Thoughts

Long ago geographers and anthropologists proved that civilization advances most rapidly in the temperate zones where there is a mixture of weather conditions – summer balminess followed by autumn chill and wintry blasts of wind and snow. The year-round warmth of the tropics makes for spiritual torpor, mental laziness, and physical dullness. It takes all kinds of weather to stimulate men to be at their best.

     While we pray for lives full of sunshine and pleasantness, God could do us no greater harm than to answer these prayers, for it takes all kinds of weather to grow a soul. Radiant days are necessary, when bright blessing shine down upon us from above and we absorb providential goodness as a sunny hillside soaks up light. Rainy days are needed when the spirit is refreshed and cleansed as when leaves, grasses, and crops of countless forests and fields drink deeply of heaven’s plenty. But wintry cold and snowy blasts from the North are also required in the temperate life -days when our lives are revealingly tested just as hard winds, heavy snows, and slashing sleet prove the strengths and weaknesses of a Northern woods, bowing snow-laden evergreen limbs in humility and breaking rotten branches off all the trees. So life’s hard weather demonstrates in us what deserves to last and what ought to fade and die. Only winter clearly shows which trees are evergreen!

     All weathers make a soul. It was after blindness descended upon John Milton that he wrote his sublimest poetry. Beethoven’s loveliest sonatas were composed after he was stricken with deafness. What would Lincoln be without his lifelong seizures of melancholy? What would Christ be with be without His cross? 

     An American tourist in Italy watched a lumberjack at work. As the logs floated down the swift mountain stream the lumberman would thrust his hook into a particular log and draw it aside.

“Those logs all look alike, ” said the tourist. “Why do you pick out just a few?”

“They are not all alike,” the lumberman replied. “Some were grown low on the mountainside where they were protected all their lives from harsh winds. Their grains are coarse. They are good only for lumber, so I let them pass on down the stream to the lumber mills. But a few logs grew on the mountain top. From the the time they were tiny seedlings they felt the lashings of high winds and the weight of heavy snows, and they grow strong and tough and fine-grained. We do not use these for ordinary lumber. No, sir! These few are especially selected for choice work.”

     So God uses wind buffeted souls for His choicest work.

Thoughts Afield

Harold E. Kohn

pg 132-133

Thinking this morning more on this and this lovely piece here also!

Tea, Cake, and Susan Branch

amyofhearthridge6 Comments

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Dear Susan Branch , I just turned the last page of your Martha’s Vineyard: Isle of Dreams. I was so inspired and enchanted. As a wife, mother and home cook, I found it just the perfect shot of encouragement.  I often loose sight of the little bits of joy in creating a home for my loved ones. I  found so much to be inspired by your tenacity in keeping at your dreams.  Your books, especially, Isle of Dreams, and then, A Fine Romance have brought so many smiles to my face, tears (I felt bad for you!), chuckles, and beautiful quotes to think on. Your thoughts on books, movies, cooking,  gardening, and gushes about little lovely bits of life make my feelings of kindred spirit well up. Isle of Dreams was my favorite, but  A Fine Romance was a very close second and I thought of you and just about swooned with delight as I had the chance to visit England this year.

One of the biggest things I loved about Isle of Dreams, was how much you praised and thought on all that you mother had done for you. It is so encouraging to know that little touches, the hot meals, and the traditions reached you and are remembered in a small way. I found that such a blessing to see a child of a big family praising the hard work her mother did for her family. Motherhood isn’t really a prized profession these days and the endless mundane dance we do each day while being told we have to be something MORE can really beat a woman down.

The little cocoa cups, the tea pots, your kitties, the ivy, and the endless magical little paintings you include teach me more than just love of beauty. I want to learn to pay attention deeply, and I pray my children will follow. Just to really listen to people, to savor  meals, to delight in lingering over tea, to mull over and discuss great books, and to never forget their faith. I desire to grow deeper relationships through hospitality and sharing life. You delight and excel in those gifts. Thank you, Susan, for your sweet books and a bit of brightness and warmth to wrap myself in, with a bit of tea and cake, of course.

With love,

Amy

Inspired by this writer, we enjoyed this lovely coffee cake with tea and some new MUSICA for a fall treat. Enjoy!

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November Days

amyofhearthridge9 Comments

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The morning suns greets my eyes. I slip on my glasses and glory in the view. The old house creaks a bit and I walk pass the piles flooring we have yet to put in upstairs. I stumble down the ancient farmhouse stairs, dreaming of a steaming cup of coffee. Perhaps I should set up a coffee maker in my room? Maybe that is a bit extreme. 🙂 The chatter of voices greet me. “Hey, Mom. Guess what my dream was?” and “What’s for breakfast?” and “I’m cold, Mom! Where’s my sweatshirt?” all sing out as I grab my package of coffee from the freezer and start my Nectar of Life a brewing. My son begins making oatmeal for everyone, which usually ends up somewhere between water-y porridge or rock hard cement, but we all love it with brown sugar, walnuts, and a dash of milk. Some add a twist with a bit of peanut butter.

I am a huge fan of the author Gladys Taber. Have you read anything by her? She wrote extensively on her farm, Stillmeadow. As I pour my coffee, I take in the scene around me and begin to compose it, in my head, attempting to grasp the charm that Gladys always seems to find as she pens her normal days around the farm. Of course, Gladys lived a different life than me. She worked outside of the home for a time and also ends up having more dogs than children. Yet, I feel a kinship to her, leaning back against the cupboard, sipping, and taking in the beauty of the daily mundane doings and yes, chaos.

“Good news, Mom! Gandalf’s pink eye is clearing up!” is the glad shout I hear next from a precious child. Yes, go ahead and chuckle. Gandalf is our barn cat, so I guess creatures do have a part in my life, Gladys.

We move on through our day, alternating between discussions, chores, and books, with a few fights over stuffed animals and whose scissors the purple ones REALLY are. (They’re actually mine.) Ahh… glorious books. We have chosen to live life with our children here at home, learning together. Gerald Johnson takes us through early American history, we laugh at Ogden Nash’s poetry, and giggle as Louis the Trumpeter Swan learns how to play TAPS on his new trumpet. We write some, do a little math, make some caramel corn, and breathe the fresh, albeit tinged with burning leaves, country air. Someone is always asking me when’s the next meal. My crock pot definitely earns its keep.

I gaze at the steam rising from my coffee cup. Sigh. “Mom, the sewer guy is here.” My romantic ruminations are ruined. Reality stinks a bit, doesn’t it? 😉 I watch the fellow from my window, what a job, huh? He is stooped and haggard looking, I’m thankful for him, he makes my job a bit easier.

A few loads of laundry swirling around, blankets on the line. The scratching noise of pen on paper, drawings and journal entries being created. An old, petrified apple core peeks out from under the couch at me. Ahh. These November days. I get “questioned out” at about 4:00 pm, is there really still 4 or 5 hours till bedtime? Yet, I love this life I’ve been given. So, like Gladys and everyone before and those to come after, I rustle up some ingredients and go about thinking supper thoughts. I sneak in a few minutes of reading in my “garrett” as my daughter calls my bedroom, where I like to hide as frequently as possible. “You can’t just stay up here in your garrett all day, Mom, like Jo March!”

I cave in and put on the electronic babysitter. They have chosen the 1935 version of A Midsummer’s Night Dream with James Cagney and Mickey Rooney. It’s a bit creepy and weird, but I hear a laugh. A Puck-ish laugh, come to think of it.   Later the candles are lit, we began our supper with prayers and because it’s the season of thanksgiving, we purposefully go around sharing what we are thankful for today.

I’m thankful for all the November days days I’ve been given, for little blonde girls who shared their drawing with me, “Here’s what I drawed, Mom.”. I’m thankful for grins after a resolved fight over Nutella, and the piles of books to dig into soon. I’m thankful for the beauty of life. And maybe I DO need that coffee maker in my garrett.

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A favorite recipe for you!

Skillet Sausage and Mushroom Penne

*adapted from original recipe from December/January 2014 Cook’s Country magazine – I use things I have on hand and I’ve doubled the original recipe here for my crowd.

1 pkg sausage of your choice (I use breakfast sausage )

fresh mushrooms, chopped – (I use half to a whole package)

4 cups chicken broth

1 can diced tomatoes (sometimes 2, depending if I feel tomato-y or not)

about 1 1/2 packages penne, this is like 18 oz?? I think

1 1/2 cups heavy cream (I actually use half n half, because I rarely have cream on hand)

Parmesan cheese (being the gourmet that I am, I use the green can shake cheese, I know. The horror. You are welcome to use freshly grated.)

  1. Cook sausage, breaking it up, until no longer pink, add in mushrooms. Cook together till brown. Transfer mixture to bowl, set aside.
  2. Return skillet to heat, add broth, tomatoes and juice, pasta, and cream. Bring to boil. Reduce heat, simmer, stirring often, until pasta is al dente. (I actually use a pot, because of the doubling of the recipe!)
  3. Stir sausage-mushroom mixture and 1/2 cup Parmesan into pasta. Season with salt and pepper to taste. Top with other 1/2 cup of Parmesan, cover, and remove from heat until cheese is melted.

Enjoy! I serve it alone for quick lunch or add a salad as a side for a bigger dinner.

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Soup

amyofhearthridge7 Comments

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(Chicken & Veggie Soup)

I am always so happy when autumn rolls around. Simply because it is the beginning of three delicious seasons of soup. Here in the Northern Midwest, autumn, winter, and spring are all soup weather. I have such a hard time knowing what to feed my hungry crowd during the summer. My life becomes easier by this humble dish and it is a lovely way to use up what is sitting around my kitchen and stretch what we have on hand. As I’ve been chopping, stirring, and watching this autumn’s batch of soup simmering, something has come to mind over and over again. Of course, the feelings of warmth, home, and family meals, but something deeper even. Our lives are made up of many bits and pieces, simmering and very often tried over fire. My faith challenges me to believe that all of these parts make up a complete whole. Each part of soup and life is important to the finished product. If I just threw one onion into a pot, it would not come out well, if I do not wait patiently for all the ingredients to be added, slowly, and patiently cooked, I would not have a glorious meal worth sharing at the end.  The wafting scent lingering in the house and the savoring of soup, crackers or bread in hand, bring to mind all that the Lord desires for our lives to be. One of wholeness in Him.  I want to stew 🙂 on this more, but it is an important lesson for me.

Our current favorite soup:

(I adapted this from an online recipe YEARS ago, forgive me for not knowing the original source.)

Rosemary Potato & Ham Soup

(I often make this in a 7 quart crock pot, but it can be done quickly on the stove also)

Favorite potatoes, chopped. I don’t peel the potatoes, but you can if so desired.

Small ham piece, chopped.

Chicken broth to cover, about 6 cups.

A Bay Leaf, or two.

Rosemary.

Salt & pepper to taste.

1/2 stick of butter

Crock pot: Layer alternating chopped potatoes & ham. Sprinkle a little bit of dried rosemary every other layer. Throw in bay leaf. Dot top with butter. Add s & p. Cook on high for 5 hours or till tender.

Stove top: Throw everything together in a pot, simmer.

Serve with crackers or fresh bread.

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