Thanksgiving Thoughts

We are the couple who shouldn’t have made it. My husband and I married right out of high school when I was eighteen and he was twenty. Apparently, we didn’t look that old, though. When we checked in the motel for our honeymoon the woman behind the desk asked if we were twelve and thirteen.

When most people our ages were pursuing college and careers—worthy pursuits of course—we were adjusting to married life. We decided to postpone higher education and eight months later, my husband joined the Army and left for basic training followed by a year long stint in South Korea. He came home on leave during the chaos that followed 9/11 to see our first son born in September 2001. In the next five years we had two more sons and my husband completed his degree.

Three boys and almost eleven years later, I look back and marvel. By society’s standards, we did everything backwards. We’re the couple people thought wouldn’t make it. We’re the couple with three kids instead of the average 1.87. (Not sure I'd want .87 kids, but that's just me.) We’re the couple who should be scraping though life. However, I see God’s fingerprint in it all—His abundant faithfulness.

Who are we really? The family God has blessed with three fun, energetic boys. The family God has provided for time and again—leaving us with no school debt, no vehicle payments, and no late or unpaid bills. This is even more amazing considering that since the birth of our first child we’ve been a single income family.

At the same time, I realize it’s not because of anything we’ve done. We have seen our share of struggles and walked through our share of wildernesses. We are not blessed because of any good in ourselves. Honestly, knowing myself as I do, I wonder why in the world God would ever choose to favor us. Surely, I am an unlikely candidate for His grace and mercy.

On the eve of Thanksgiving, I cannot help but cry out with a thankful heart to the One who has walked with us all along. The One who has blessed us. The One who has healed us. The One who has touched us. The One who has been near to us. He has brought us through times of deep darkness and celebrated over us during seasons of joy.

I recently stumbled across an old notebook from April 1999 where my husband had jotted down his thoughts. According to his record, when we married, he had been working full time and made $6.70 an hour. I had been working part time and made $5.25 and hour. I looked at my husband and wondered, “What were we thinking? How were we paying our bills? How did we make it this far?”

His reply: “Only by the grace of God.”

Coffee Elixir Frosting

I don't like coffee. For some reason, though, coffee and chocolate and frosting sounds... well, delicious. But I couldn't find a recipe exactly to my liking. So I made one. Below is my recipe for yummy chocolate coffee frosting. Try it. You'll like it! (Sorry that I don't have a photo to go along with the recipe, but I was in the middle of experimenting and didn't even think of it!Also, I used a Betty Crocker chocolate cake mix for the cupcakes.)


Coffee Elixir Frosting

48 oz brewed coffee
1/4 cup milk
1 c butter
1 c cocoa powder
1-2 pounds powdered sugar

1. In pot, boil coffee down until most of the liquid is gone. This will resemble a thin syrup. (This is called a reduction for those of you who aren't addicted to Food Network.)
2. Use mixer to combine milk and butter together. Add coffee.
3. Sift two cups of sugar with cocoa. Mix into butter mixture.
4. Continue adding powdered sugar until as thick as you want. (For piping frosting onto cupcakes, stiff peaks should form when you pull the mixer out. I used a wilton #12 tip to pipe spirals.) Also, you can reduce more coffee and add at this point for more coffee flavor. Thicken with additional sugar if needed.
5. Refrigerate after items are frosted.

Duggar vs. Normal folks like us

Say what you will about the Duggars, but I am a huge fan. Still, I find myself thinking that their portrayal of homeschool is just a little, teensy bit different than what goes on at my house. I mean, violin and harp lessons with each child meekly learning with a grin on their face—that’s just not what homeschool looks like at the Lasater’s.

Here? It’s more like forcing a dehydrated camel to water and trying to wrestle him to the ground to get him to drink. I have normal kids. The ones who don’t really enjoy school work. The kind who say, “I don’t like____.” (Fill in the blank with whatever subject we’re currently tackling.)

Then why do it? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. Just because I am constantly followed every single minute by three young, energetic, noisy boys doesn’t mean I’m not happy. After all, I’m their mom. That is pretty much what I signed up for when we decided to become parents.

We homeschool because we know that our kids really are getting the best education—at home with procrastinating little me—they can possibly receive. (Lasater Academy has small class sizes and a great teacher. Trust me on that one.) Plus, we know exactly what values and world view they’re being taught. An extra benefit… I learn a lot, too. Don’t ask my husband about my geography skills—he’ll just shake his head in shame. (I try to reassure him that I often learn right along with the kids and that we haven’t gotten to that subject yet, but he’s still doubtful that I’ll ever learn Geography.)

As Christians, we homeschool because we don’t feel comfortable handing off this job to people who may not agree with our faith. Bible is one of our subjects. Plus, since the boys and I are always together, I get the chance to teach them Biblical principles in a real environment. For example, the boys were present when a customer made fun of an elderly patron at a store. This gave them a chance to see how disgusting it is to disrespect others. I may also be teaching them some things I’d rather they forget. Like when my three year old shouts from the back seat, “Just run the red light, Mom!” I can’t imagine a Duggar child ever saying that.

When our first son was born, my husband and I decided that, as long as God provided, I would stay at home with our baby. We felt that no one else could care for him like a parent could. Two more boys and nine years later, we still feel the same way. No one can care for, educate, or advocate for our children better than we can. Having older kids doesn’t mean we’ve been relieved of responsibility.

Of course, we don’t have a problem with people who don’t homeschool. It’s obviously not for everyone. (For a long time, we thought it wasn’t for us. Honestly, it took Divine intervention for me to change my mind.) We also support traditional teachers and the important role they have. This is simply the decision we’ve made for our family.

So the next time I’m forced outside my house because indoors sound like a zoo, I won’t think to myself, “That’s not the way the Duggars do it.” (I figure my three kids make more ruckus than their nineteen kids ever could.) I’ll just remember: there’s more than one way to skin a camel.

Brittni's Book Update

Well, it's official. My book is sitting on someone's desk, waiting for it's chance to shine. The contest winner will be announced in February 2011. I was told they had over 100 entries. For some reason, I feel better about that than if they'd had 500.

My hope? That, some how, my fragile scratchings will glorify His name. Will you join me in praying for the same?



5/11
Well, it's even more official. (I can't remember if I've already posted this information, though, so forgive me if you already heard.) I didn't make the top 20. That just means I'll have to keep forging ahead. Thanks for all your encouraging words!

What I'm Reading: The Falling Away

The Falling Away by T.L. Hines is the story of a man who is no stranger to darkness. As he runs away from the demons that haunt him, he collides with a force that enables him to go on the offense.

Hines weaves an interesting story. The characters are likeable and make the book a good read. Best of all, Hines wastes no time with flowery descriptions and so the tightly written book hits the ground at full steam and finishes the same.

The undercurrent of the supernatural in this book is a great addition. It keeps the reader slightly off-balance and makes it impossible to guess what is coming next. Another plus, the supernatural involvement never crosses the line into “scary.” As a result, the reader can enjoy this book snuggled under the covers at bedtime without risking nightmares. In this reader’s opinion, however, Hines’s interpretation of spiritual activity should be considered, but not accepted as gospel.

As a whole, Hines’s writing style and plot line excel. This reader enjoyed each page and never skipped ahead from disinterest. The Falling Away is a book readers will want to recommend to a friend.

Our (successful) attempt at adventure: Chicken Pesto Pizza

Since our family is comprised of picky--super picky--eaters, we tend to get in a rut at dinner time. I went out on a limb trying this recipe--it contains artichoke hearts-- and... I'm glad I did. It was great. You can't tell it has artichoke on it. 4 out of 5 Lasaters liked it (with the youngest being the only dissenting vote and he hates anything that isn't in the waffle/pancake/oatmeal family.) I promise, this was easy and yum, yum, yummy!

Pesto Chicken Pizza
Ingredients:
1 (8 ounce) jar basil pesto (Look near the spaghetti sauce. At my grocery super center, it's on the top shelf where short people can barely reach it. By the way, thanks to the tall stranger that grabbed the jar for me!)
1 refrigerated pizza crust
2 cups cooked chicken breast strips (You can buy these pre-cooked if you're short on time. Look in the sandwich meat area at the store.)
1 (6 ounce) jar artichoke hearts, drained (I found these in the vegetable aisle for a couple dollars.)
1/2 cup shredded mozerella cheese (I may have used a little more to disguise the atichokes.)

Directions:
1. Preheat the oven to 450 degrees F (230 degrees C).
2. Spread pesto sauce over the pizza crust. Arrange chicken pieces and artichoke hearts over the sauce, and sprinkle with cheese. (I only used the thin pieces of the artichoke hearts and I seperated them so they'd be less noticeable--hey, my adventurousness has limits.)
3. Bake for 10-15 minutes in the preheated oven, until cheese is melted and crust is lightly browned at the edges.

The Gift You're Given

Word has begun to circulate that I’m in the process of writing a book. Because of that, I hear three recurring themes from curious friends and family. First: Is it a children’s book? Second: What’s it about? Third: How do you find the time?

To answer the first, I am writing a novel, not a children’s book. I would love to write a children’s book that focuses on a strong boy character (hard to find if you don’t count the animals that happen to also be males –Frog and Toad, Franklin, Clifford, Little Bear, etc.) because I know how hard it can be to find a book I’d like my boys to read. However, I’ve had a story rolling around in my head (for years now) about God’s power to restore. One that I felt needed to be told. So, at my husband’s urging, I started with it.

The book is Christian, fiction, and finished. Well, sort of. Although I did end the book, I feel some areas are not complete and so I am going back and revising where necessary. I feel thrilled to have enlisted the help of a talented woman who has agreed to act as my editor. As it stands today, my book has approximately 71,000 words, 40 chapters, and 200 pages. (This, by the way, is on the shorter side where books are concerned.) While I’m editing, my goal is to add another 4,000 words, which would give me a high enough word count to enter the book into a writing contest. (The contest deadline is October first. I’m sweating over it a little. Okay, a lot.)

In an effort to address the second question, I have to say, “It’s a secret.” While I’d love to divulge the plot of my book, I can’t. Imagine what would happen if my plot trickled down to someone who could write my book better. Exactly.

Thirdly, people ask, “How do you do that?” The implication is that writing a book in the midst of home schooling a second and third grader while keeping dibs on our three year old might be an impossible task. I’ll suffice it to say that I ignore things I shouldn’t (dishes, laundry, vacuuming) to focus on something I like more. After all, everyone finds time–even if it isn’t much time–to do what they enjoy. (Be honest, haven’t you ever sat down with a good book when you should’ve been doing something else? Well, me too. Only I write it.)

Personally, I think there is a greater question that how I find time to write. For me, the mystery lies in how a book gets written. Any writer will tell you that some things will not be written. Will not. No matter how much you want to write it. It’s almost as if the words, the stories, take on their own persona and on occasion refuse to be manipulated. At other times, the words begin to flow and there’s no stopping it. The writer feels the rightness of what is spilling on the page. It is a, this-is-good-stuff-really-good-stuff kind of experience. Like going shopping, plucking something from the rack, hitting the dressing room, and slipping into the best fitting outfit of your life. It looks good. It feels good. You know it’s good.

The secular writing world refers to this as a “muse.” A muse is a near-magical being that moves on the writer and lends inspiration. I doubt writers believe an angel or the like is hanging over their shoulder, but they do recognize the instance of receiving inspiration and believe it comes from somewhere.

I find the process amazing. Even now, I look at the 71,000 words and wonder how they happened. How is it possible to come up with 200 pages worth of creative writing? Personally, I see this as evidence of the Creator. All creative processes must come from somewhere. Doesn’t the Creator just make sense?

Before the words hit the page, I feel them in my mind. As if they were given to me. Then, I use a process I refer to as “stewing.” I stew over them. Then, I sit in front of a blank screen and type. This isn’t a thing that can be forced.

Vessel. Aren’t all Christians called to be vessels with an ear to heaven and hands toward the world? Whether or not writing is your forte, the key is to do what you must with what you’ve been given.