Sweet Potato Pie: A Thanksgiving Tradition

Every year around this time I reflect on the first Thanksgiving my husband and I had together as man and wife. I still get a chuckle just thinking about it. We come from two different cultures. Our cultures never really clashed until we were trying to figure out what pie we should have at Thanksgiving.

Click on the link for my Sweet Potato Pie Recipe

 and how it became a Thanksgiving tradition in our home.

Winner of the "New Life" Apron Give Away is.....

 I just want to say thank you to all the women who left comments about what a new life means to you. Some of the comments really tugged my heart. I prayed and thought about each one of you on a daily basis for the last week. Blessing to you and your families.

 Here are the names ready to be drawn.....

 My hand got stuck in the mason jar. This is a wide mouth jar too. Hmm... :)

Here's our winner! Congratulations Nabila Grace!

*Update: Nabila was so touched by Jill K.'s story, that she giving her gifts to her.
Jill K., your story touched the hearts of many that read your comment. We thank our Father who is the giver of life. We rejoice with you!

Thankful Thursday - Titus 2 Mentors

Titus 2:3-5 "the older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things—that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed."

November is the month when we celebrate Thanksgiving. I've decided to share what I'm thankful for each Thursday in November. I have so many things to be thankful for, but I wanted to start off by saying how thankful I am for the Titus 2 women who have imparted in my life. I'm so thankful that I had the chance to experience what it's like to have an older woman to live out the Titus 2 mandate.

My heart cannot express enough thanks for Mother Bradford who saw something in the neighborhood girl running wild and playing "hide & seek" with the boys. She would invite me to come into her home. I loved going to her home. It was so peaceful and pretty. She had a floral paintings and always, always had something baking or cooking. Her house smelt good too.

She got permission from my parents to start taking me to church with her. I would go every Sunday, even when I didn't want to go because it gave me a chance to escape reality. My home life was in such disarray and most of my childhood our family didn't have a car. Going to church gave me an opportunity to leave the "projects (ghetto)" for a minute.

Mother Bradford would teach me about how my body belonged to God and He didn't want me sharing it with anyone else. Oh, how she would embrace me after I would share with her my hurt of abuse and being used while trying to find love. Not once did she judge me. Instead, she would tell me about the man that God will send to me that will cherish me and love me. She prepared me for that man and I'm forever grateful to her.

I remember one day inquiring about why she dresses the way she does. Not that she dressed bad or anything, just different. Different from most women in the neighborhood. She always looked pretty. Pretty, just like her home decor. Simple and pretty, not a lot of glitz and glamour, but yet fascinating. She taught me about modesty. I didn't embrace modesty then. It took some time, a long time!

How blessed my life has been not only with Mother Bradford, but many women who have imparted into my life. If I could go back in time, I would glean even harder because I took it for granted that I would always have a Titus 2 mentor in my life.

I will always desire to have a Titus 2 woman in my life. I'm entering a new season in life. I'm now a Titus 2 woman.

The Invisible Mom

The Invisible Mom
by: Nicole Johnson

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?' Obviously, not.

No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is 20 the Disney Channel?' I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated sum a cum laude -- but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England .... Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped pack age, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:

'To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

In the days ahead I would read -- no, devour -- the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals -- we have no record of their names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit..The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place.It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

Great Job, MOM!

Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know...I just did.

Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does.

We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.