October 27, 2015
It was nearly midnight when the game ended. But as the clock struck 12, nothing changed back to a pumpkin in this little fairy tale. Panthers 27. Eagles 16. Our team’s record shined across the screen. 6 and 0 baby. Wrapped up our weekend of competition with a win.
Watching the late night game provided more tension, but not nearly as much fun as the game we all had conducted in the backyard earlier in the day.
Boys against Mommy and Daddy.
Blame it on my flip flops or my receiver. I’ll use either excuse. But don’t blame it on my skills as a quarterback. Never mind the laughter from my children. The old folks weren’t the ones celebrating in the end zone. But watching the ones who were? I’ll take that any day over a victory in the points.
Points were what was lacking in my son’s soccer game on Saturday morning. I mean, not points for the other team. They seemed to have plenty of those. But for my fella’s team? Their goals of determination and hard work weren’t written on a score pad, but surely weighed more heavily on the scale of importance.
And really, when it comes down to it, the points and the touchdowns and the goals scored, are those the things that matter? Can’t they be just as easily erased from the books as they were put in them? Won’t they be outscored or broken next season anyway?
Speaking of being outscored…Chris and I participated in an “Amazing Race” competition with other married couples from church Saturday night. After signing up, he tried to get me to shake hands in agreement that I wouldn’t be critical of his driving skills or ahem, challenges of following directions. I giggled thinking about the scene later in the week when he labeled me as “competitive.” Really?
Anyway, we went into the race fully prepared to win the thing. I mean, we have watched a number of seasons of the TV show. That was training enough, right?
Well, long story short, we didn’t win. In fact, we weren’t even close.
Sushi eating, piggy-back riding, slurpee gulping, geo-caching, and gas pumping did not result in a victory for us. Well, not a championship rewarded by a medal and prizes.
But winning? I think we did.
The brain freeze Chris got? Probably won’t be topped anytime soon.
The screeching sound of tires? Yeah, he drove better than ever before.
The hilarity of the guy who started videoing us because he thought we were on the real show? A memory that will last a long time!
Sure, we wanted to finish well. Don’t we all? But it’s not only about the finish line.
That football game we watched? We’ll remember the high fives and the interception-inducing jabs more so than we’ll remember the final score. (Okay, Chris will remember the final score, but I won’t.)
The backyard game we played? I’m quite certain that my boys will be able to recount their mama attempting to be an MVP more so than they will the play that got them into the end zone.
That crushing soccer game? Here’s hoping our hugs and back pats will outlive what the ref wrote down on the game card.
The amazing race? Well, I’m going to remember it not for how we finished it, but how we ran it. Together. And running together, that’s a win in my book.
Winning is fun, right? What should we really be chasing with gusto? Read more here.
October 25, 2015
Can you believe that we are entering the last week of October?
I’m really sad to see it go. It, along with its neighbor, November make up one of my favorite times of the year.
Trees losing their leaves bring out the sweaters and an extra blanket for the bed.
Two boys' birthdays equals cake.
Cooler temps call for soup and warm bread for dinner. On those evenings when you need a bowl of comfort, be sure to make up a pot of Chicken Noodle Soup.
But there are times in life when a bowl of soup or an extra blanket won’t provide the kind of comfort we need. Only in Christ do we find our true Comfort. Our true peace. Earlier in the week, I shared about a time I went through in the past when Jesus comforted me. I pray that as you read these words, you will lean on Him.
Thank you for reading!
As a small gesture of my appreciation, we are hosting our first blog giveaway! As I’m typing this post, I can hear a saw in the background cutting pallets!
A custom “Home” pallet sign would make a great addition to your décor! And hey, Christmas is coming! If you win, you could mark off a gift on your list!
Contest ends on Friday, October 30!
Love, (even when the lid is up!)
October 23, 2015
You know those people who can do anything? The multi-talented ones who can seem to pull off any task with ease?
I am not one.
But you know what’s better than being one? Marrying one.
I mean, combine that talent with an uber-helpful personality, and bam: gold. My hubby seems to be able to do anything….he can bake a mean cheesecake, fix a hole in the wall, and turn flips in the yard for the kiddos.
The last time I went away for a weekend, I returned home to find a freshly painted kitchen, happy boys who had been taken to church, bathed at least once and fed several manly meals purchased with ingredients they got from a trip to the grocery store. This man is off the charts.
It tickles me to show off some of his creations from his latest venture: pallet creations.
Several have made their way into my own décor after seeing them and deciding, “Well, I’ll just keep that one.”
Now, it’s your turn to be able to keep just one for yourself as well.
It’s time for the first blog giveaway!
Comment in the blog comments with your state to be entered to win. Contest is now closed.
A winner will be chosen to receive a custom “Home” pallet sign from Home on the Rock Signs.
Contest runs until Friday, October 30, 2015 at 11:59 PM.
Open to residents of the 50 states.
Feel free to visit Home on the Rock on Etsy.
Thanks for entering!
October 22, 2015
I’m all about comfort.
Comfort food. Comfortable clothes.
Comfortable couch to sit on while wearing my comfortable clothes, eating my comfort food. You get it.
Seems that I am passing on my love for all things comfortable to at least one of my kiddos. When walking in the back door after school, he often asks, “Are we going anywhere today?”
He loves to hear when the answer is “No.” On those days, he rushes to his room and puts on pajama pants.
My kind of kid.
One of his favorites for dinner is homemade chicken noodle soup. Basically, your ultimate comfort food.
It’s perfect for chilly evenings and a great way to use some leftover chicken. Grab yourself a bowl and a sleeve of crackers.
Chicken Noodle Soup
8 cups chicken broth
2 cups cooked, shredded chicken
10 ounce package of egg noodles
2 carrots, sliced
2 teaspoons butter
1 ½ tablespoons flour
½ cup heavy cream
Salt, pepper, and parsley
In a small skillet, melt butter and cook carrots about 10 minutes or until they begin to soften. (A little browning on them will give them more flavor. Searing the chicken will also offer a boost.)
Meanwhile, in a large saucepan, bring the broth to a boil. Add carrots and noodles, cooking them according to package directions. Stir in chicken.
Remove about ½ cup of broth and whisk flour into this separated liquid. Stir in heavy cream and return broth to pot.
*The heavy cream is crucial to the recipe. Just this once, splurge and be sure to include it!
Season soup with salt, pepper, and parsley.
Return to a boil for a few minutes.
Ladle into bowls and get your fill of comfort.
October 20, 2015
The week between the doctor sending me to have it checked and finding out the results was a long one.
I watched my world through misty eyes overwhelmed with thankfulness tainted with regret and a sense of fragility I had not known before.
Walker sat on my mother’s living room floor naively playing with blocks while I quietly told her, “I found a lump.”
With that sentence muttered, I anxiously made my way through the next week while she and my little prayer circle made way to their knees.
I sat in the exam room wearing a hospital gown and clutching my purse. My leg swung nervously.
I spotted them on a corner shelf. Stacks of little pink bags. Very much like the treat bags I’ve sent home with dozens of kids after a birthday party. These were decorated with a ribbon and surely contained helpful information about a diagnosis.
How could I walk into the lobby to my waiting husband with one of those bags?
“Please God, I don’t want a treat bag.”
I had walked in nervously, but stoically. It all just fell apart when the nurse returned a third time for just a different angle. Her kindness could not be matched with my worry as I began to cry.
“Honey, I know it hurts. We’re almost finished.”
"It’s just nerves," I explained. The pain was secondary. It was the “what if’s” that crushed me.
I returned to the lobby, empty handed, to my husband. I’ve never seen such a look of relief on his face. And I was relieved. My mom rejoiced as did others who were waiting for the “all clear” texts we sent.
A collective sigh of relief.
And yet as we all exhaled, I remembered. Those little bags. Many had already been sent home with other nervous hands while others with sweaty palms were still to receive theirs. The fact was not lost on me.
We’ll never be able to figure it out. Why some of us walk back into the lobby ready to rejoice while others receive words that turn their world upside down.
So when I remember my week of waiting and wondering, I remember you. The ones who were handed a bag and along with it, teary days and sleepless nights, questions that go unanswered, and pain of the body and emotions.
I see you, brave one, who fights every day. You are loved. You are not forgotten.
I went through this situation earlier in the year. My desire is to show support for those who have fought and continue to do so.
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