Starting the New Year

If working hard means getting a good start to the new year, then I think Doug and I have a lot to look forward to in 2019.

We took a working vacation over Christmas and the New Year, which meant we worked at home only, no outside appointments. We stayed up late, and slept as long as possible.

We also hosted an Open House for ministry volunteers, which was a lot of fun.

Doug did throw his back out after Christmas, but I knew it was coming. The week before he had been doing a lot of lifting and moving, and I kept hearing him say, “There’s something funny going on with my back.” I also caught a head cold, but if it stays in my head, it won’t be too bad.

It’s going to be interesting this year, because we are rolling into 2019 with so much already in place. Normally, we spend January seeking the Lord for His course of action, His plan for the ministry. Well, He set the course for us before 2018 ended; we just have to keep doing what we were doing. So, we have a running start. I like it!

You know, I was thinking about the highlights of 2018 the other day. Isaac, our grandson, was definitely a highlight. How God moved in my heart was a highlight. Doug and I arrived at a new place of goodness in our marriage this past year, and that was a highlight.* It was almost like we remembered we were friends. Maybe, working together frustrates friendship. I think it might. And, HopeMail has been a very big highlight, too. I love how that is coming along.

However, my greatest highlight of 2018 is something I wanted to do all year long. I actually did work on it throughout the year, but it wasn’t until just before Christmas that all the pieces fell into place. It may not seem like a big deal, and you will wonder why it took so long, but I managed to finally finish our spare room, making it a place where the grandbabies can hangout and Doug can play his piano.

And, when those two things come together, well, my heart is pretty full.

I am very thankful the Lord did not despair of me in 2018. His kindness overwhelms me. He does love us like a Father, and we know that because He doesn’t love us any less when we’re ornery. It’s almost like He loves us louder, to make sure that in our blindness we don’t lose our way.

* I would feel dishonest if I did not add that I’ve been repeatedly cranky with him the past couple weeks, which is disappointing for me. I’ve had to apologize a lot. I want to blame my thyroid, but I think it’s more likely just ugly sin.

Breakfast Casseroles Mean Love

Once a month, we have a leadership meeting for the ministry volunteers. Serving breakfast is the least we can do for these awesome folks. And, you know, if you’re going to ask someone to give up part of their Saturday to sit in a church basement, you should offer them a little more than a cup of coffee, right? I love our volunteers. They’re some of my favorite people.

Attendance to our meetings varies from month to month—it’s never a full house—so I’m rarely cooking for more than a dozen people. I can handle that pretty well, and I really enjoy it a lot. I love being able to do something to show them how much they mean to us. It’s a little something, but hopefully they know there is a lot of love in their breakfast casserole.

Tomorrow, I am serving Paula Dean’s French Toast Casserole, lots of bacon and sausage, and fresh berries. I haven’t made a French Toast Casserole in many moons, so I hope it comes out well. Doug scoffed at the four pounds of bacon, but I don’t think it will be enough. Ten men can eat a lot of bacon!

Well, I’ hope you have a great weekend.  I’ll let you know if the casserole was success in tonight’s Saturday Evening Post.

God bless you today! ❤

Newsletter Day

The ministry newsletter always takes me longer to prepare than I expect it to take.

I mean, always. Even when I am not writing the bulk of the message, like this current newsletter.

So, it’s been a very long day, and a very late night. This will have to be my blog post for the day. Actually, Sunday.

I guess I should share the newsletter with you here: NBF FIELD REPORT

The Saxophone Player and me.