I've been thinking about this one awhile. Pondering it in my head, coming up with the "perfect" way to write it, etc. etc. Then every time I think I'll have time to write it something happens and it's put off. So I finally have a little time but I'm concerned that it's going to be one of those things where I have high expectations that aren't even close to being met. For example, dinner last night. I had the brilliant idea to do a stir fry bar. Okay, I got the idea online, but still, brilliant! I was so excited thinking this would become a family favorite, like our own mongolian grill! This was not the case. My husband complained about it being served with brown rice, my oldest son had a concussion and didn't feel like eating (what are the odds?), my middle son chose about 3 vegetables and the little guy ate a few pieces of rice. Very high, very unmet expectations. Anyways, let's hope I can make this at least somewhat worthwhile!
I've been told most of my life that I'm a very good listener. My parents and my husband might beg to differ on this, but many others would probably agree that I have good listening skills. It's probably for this reason that I chose to be a social worker. I basically listen for a living. That and fill out paperwork. It's important for you to know this because this post is about me learning to listen to God. It's funny because I always knew that God wanted to have a relationship with me and it was very important for me to spend time with Him to cultivate that relationship. Somehow, in my mind, that meant I needed to do a lot of talking to Him. And talk I did. It never entered my mind that I needed to listen. Sure, God spoke to me through His word on occasion, more often through impressions and such, but never because I was really listening. I'm guessing it was usually a last ditch effort to get my attention! Until this past year...
I went to a retreat in September and there were a few ladies who made the announcement that they wanted to bless us at this retreat by sitting with us, hearing from God and speaking to us through Him. I made up my mind the minute they started talking that they were crazy and there was no way I was subjecting myself to that nonsense. Through the next couple of days, though, I started to hear from other people at the retreat that this really was a blessing and they had been so moved by their time with these ladies. A friend and I really talked through our reservations with it, trying to figure out what made it feel so uncomfortable for us. In the end, we decided it was worth a shot. I cannot even begin to tell you how amazing it was. Almost from the minute we sat down, I could just feel the presence of God and, when they started talking, it was like Jesus was speaking straight to me. He told me how much He enjoys our relationship, how very precious I am to Him, how my desire to know Him and show others His love through me is going to bless many. I just broke down in tears. The ladies talked about seeing pictures of different things, a tree with a heart inside showing I'm well-rooted in His love, Jesus and I sitting and talking and laughing together, and a couple others. I have never been one to think or visualize in pictures, but when they were talking to me, my mind immediately picked up on these pictures and they've come back many times in my mind to remind me of what my relationship with Jesus looks like. You can probably gather that this time was amazing for me.
I have learned all my life that Jesus loves me, that I'm precious to Him that I am beautiful and perfect to Him. It's one thing to know this in your head, but quite another thing to hear it from Him, to feel it in your heart. I felt it and have been on a mission ever since to continue hearing from Him. A couple months after this retreat I began a bible study with some ladies from church learning about spiritual disciplines. One of the first disciplines we learned about was silence and solitude. This is something that would have been very hard for me to do in the past. My mind wanders, I'm writing blog posts in my head, planning dinner for the week, etc. But I was ready to hear from God again. Practicing this discipline, He continued to speak to me in pictures, Jesus and I walking by a stream, not talking or even looking at each other, just enjoying our time together. I also learned to listen through scripture and God started speaking to me about lies I've believed all my life. He spoke truth into those lies and gave me pictures I can go back to whenever those lies rear their ugly heads.
A couple months later, another bible study opportunity came up and I jumped on it, feeling as though I was only beginning to scratch the surface of what God had to tell me. This study is one of listening and healing. I went in with high expectations and He has not let me down. He's shown me instances from my past that have clouded the way I've lived my life, more lies I've believed about myself that have shaped who I have become. He has assured me He was with me all along, His heart broke when mine did but He was always there. The love, acceptance and peace I have experienced through listening has been so amazing.
I wish I could tell you I've learned to listen and now my whole life has changed, but that's just not true. In fact, I think there's so much emotion at the surface right now that I'm a mess! I've become aware of so many lies I've believed and even though I have experienced healing from those lies, trying to live my life in a way that doesn't reflect those lies is not something that will happen overnight. And I know there's more. To me, what's so amazing about this journey is that God, you know the creator of the universe, the sovereign King, wants to speak to me. He doesn't want to tell me all the rules, how to live my life and what to tell other people, He just wants to talk to me because He likes me. He likes me!! He doesn't just want to have a relationship with me where I pray and read the bible and fellowship with other believers. He has things He wants to say to me, not just generic things, either. Things that matter only to me. He wants to spend time with me walking beside still waters, lying in green pastures simply enjoying each other's company. Kind of hard to wrap my head around that...
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Friday, February 3, 2012
Love and Marriage, Love and Marriage...
I've been thinking about this whole marriage thing a lot lately. I got married when I was 20. That's right 20! And, for whatever reason, I went into this marriage with the assumption that life would be a fairy tale. I really did think that. I thought my husband would adore me, treat me like a princess and ultimately make me happy. I thought we would enjoy every second together and that I would never tire of being the good wife I knew I was destined to be. I thought that surely I would make him happy, because I'm pretty amazing! Shocker, this didn't happen. We enjoyed being around each other most of the time, we tried really hard to make each other happy, but just felt defeated when we realized it wasn't working. I thought I was doing everything right, but my husband still preferred being at work to being home with me. After years of this I felt unloved, unappreciated and thought I had for sure married the wrong guy.
The sad part about this story is that I honestly believed I was the only person who felt this way. All around me I saw people who appeared to be so happily married. I saw men who appeared to be perfect gentlemen, giving their wives everything they needed. From the outside looking in, everybody around me was blissfully happy and I started to wonder what was wrong with me and I definitely started wondering what was wrong with my husband. I felt ashamed and like I couldn't tell anybody without being judged. I spent a couple years angry, bitter and resentful which really didn't help the whole happiness thing.
I knew something had to change. Apparently, nothing I could do or say was going to make my husband love me more or make me happy. I knew I had to make some changes for myself. At this point I still did not know one married couple who was struggling, I still felt very alone and didn't know where to turn. It's sad that I had to get to a point where I had nobody to turn to before I turned to God. I knew Him, I knew He was with me always, but I thought I had messed up His plan and wasn't entirely sure He was going to bail me out of my mistakes. But I gave it a shot and of course He wrapped His arms around me and showed me how much He loved me, how He longed to bring me joy if I would only let Him, that I was His child, His princess. He began to show me that marriage was not about me being happy. I was designed to give God glory which should bring me amazing joy (very different from happiness, at least the happiness our society teaches us about). To bring God glory through my marriage, it was essential that I give up the anger, resentment and bitterness towards my husband. I began to pray for him, to make lists of all the things I loved about him and refer to those when I started to get upset with him. I learned that forgiveness is a foundation to marriage. We've both done a lot of stupid things, but God calls us to forgive. And forgive. And forgive. Yep, we've had to do that many, many times. Sometimes I get tired of forgiving, but then God reminds me that He never tires of forgiving me. How can I justify not forgiving when reminded of that?
Fast forward about 5 years. My husband is a completely changed man. My faithfulness to God and commitment to my marriage has been rewarded big time. It's not perfect, we still argue, I still feel "unhappy" some of the time and we both still have opportunities to forgive, but with the focus of our marriage being to glorifying God there's a certain joy underlining it all.
The main reason I wanted to write about this is to highlight on the part where I felt so alone, like I was the only one who had problems in my marriage. I get so frustrated at our desire to present as people who have it all together. And this seems especially to be the case within the church community. I'm here to tell you I do not have it all together. God has blessed my marriage, but boy have we been through it! I want so badly for other women feeling alone and ashamed of the state of their marriage to see very real, very honest examples of other people who have come through it, or who are still in the thick of it. I want them to feel they have a safe place to turn where they won't be judged. I want them to know they are not alone and that there is hope. It might not be easy and things probably won't change overnight, but God loves us and wants to bless us in our marriages. So again, let's be real, let's be transparent, let's be a community that encourages and supports one another in our brokenness.
The sad part about this story is that I honestly believed I was the only person who felt this way. All around me I saw people who appeared to be so happily married. I saw men who appeared to be perfect gentlemen, giving their wives everything they needed. From the outside looking in, everybody around me was blissfully happy and I started to wonder what was wrong with me and I definitely started wondering what was wrong with my husband. I felt ashamed and like I couldn't tell anybody without being judged. I spent a couple years angry, bitter and resentful which really didn't help the whole happiness thing.
I knew something had to change. Apparently, nothing I could do or say was going to make my husband love me more or make me happy. I knew I had to make some changes for myself. At this point I still did not know one married couple who was struggling, I still felt very alone and didn't know where to turn. It's sad that I had to get to a point where I had nobody to turn to before I turned to God. I knew Him, I knew He was with me always, but I thought I had messed up His plan and wasn't entirely sure He was going to bail me out of my mistakes. But I gave it a shot and of course He wrapped His arms around me and showed me how much He loved me, how He longed to bring me joy if I would only let Him, that I was His child, His princess. He began to show me that marriage was not about me being happy. I was designed to give God glory which should bring me amazing joy (very different from happiness, at least the happiness our society teaches us about). To bring God glory through my marriage, it was essential that I give up the anger, resentment and bitterness towards my husband. I began to pray for him, to make lists of all the things I loved about him and refer to those when I started to get upset with him. I learned that forgiveness is a foundation to marriage. We've both done a lot of stupid things, but God calls us to forgive. And forgive. And forgive. Yep, we've had to do that many, many times. Sometimes I get tired of forgiving, but then God reminds me that He never tires of forgiving me. How can I justify not forgiving when reminded of that?
Fast forward about 5 years. My husband is a completely changed man. My faithfulness to God and commitment to my marriage has been rewarded big time. It's not perfect, we still argue, I still feel "unhappy" some of the time and we both still have opportunities to forgive, but with the focus of our marriage being to glorifying God there's a certain joy underlining it all.
The main reason I wanted to write about this is to highlight on the part where I felt so alone, like I was the only one who had problems in my marriage. I get so frustrated at our desire to present as people who have it all together. And this seems especially to be the case within the church community. I'm here to tell you I do not have it all together. God has blessed my marriage, but boy have we been through it! I want so badly for other women feeling alone and ashamed of the state of their marriage to see very real, very honest examples of other people who have come through it, or who are still in the thick of it. I want them to feel they have a safe place to turn where they won't be judged. I want them to know they are not alone and that there is hope. It might not be easy and things probably won't change overnight, but God loves us and wants to bless us in our marriages. So again, let's be real, let's be transparent, let's be a community that encourages and supports one another in our brokenness.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Sheets
I may lose some of you here (cuz you know I have so many to lose). I think of myself as fairly organized and clean. I'm a flylady fan and try very hard to keep up with my routines, weekly home blessing hour and such. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you really should check out www.flylady.net, I absolutely love it. Anyways, there's one thing I struggle with. Well, one thing I'll talk about today...Sheets. I read the other day that if you take a shower at night, you can probably get away with washing your sheets only once a week, if not, you should wash them every three days. Are you freakin' kidding me? Who has time to wash sheets every three days? I've even tried to do the once a week thing and it seems ridiculous to me. I mean, I sleep in them and then I wake up and shower. Well, most of the time I shower. Okay, the further along I get in this post I'm starting to sound like a real grunge type. But it's such a PAIN to change the sheets, especially on the kids bunkbeds. Confession time: sometimes I can't remember the last time I changed their sheets. Luckily, they shower before bed, but they are gross boys who smell a majority of the time so I realize this is just plain nasty. Not really sure where I'm going with this post, I think I just need to hear that I'm not the only one who thinks washing sheets is just a big pain in the butt. I enjoy nice clean sheets just as much as the next person, but I like them so much better in a hotel where someone else does all the dirty work! That's it, I need a housekeeper. I suppose this is one of those things that I'll do someday when my kids are grown up and I long for the crazy days that have passed. I'll wash my sheets every three days. Someday.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Transparent
And so it appears blogging is not my forte, either. Chalk it up to one more thing I have very good intentions of doing, great ideas to start, yet not so good at following through. A wise woman told me the other day that there are three kinds of quilters. There are starters, those that love the idea of the quilt, buying the different fabrics, imagining what the finished product will look like and laying it all out in great fashion. There are great middle quilters who love the actual work of making the quilt, the sewing, intricate details and the time it takes to actually put it together. And then, of course, there are finishers. They love seeing the project through to completion, making the last few adjustments and the pride that comes with finishing. I am not and never will be a quilter, but after listening to her description of these quilters, I knew without even having to think about it that I would definitely be a starter and I think this might just apply to other areas of life :-) I'm not all that creative and I'm certainly not a dreamer type of person, but I love big ideas that other people have and tweaking them to fit my lifestyle. This blog is a great example of that. However, I am bound determined that even though I might not be consistent, I do need the outlet and will use it as often as I can.
Starting the year off on a serious note, I've been thinking a lot about transparency lately. I made a comment at bible study yesterday that actually surprised me coming out of my mouth. First, let me explain the context. If you know my family and the town we live in, you know that it's not always easy being part of my family in this town. There's an expectation to look like you have it all together, even when you don't. Now, in their defense, I think this dynamic has changed much in the past several years, but as I was growing up, this was definitely the expectation. So at bible study we were having a discussion about this and I was able to put words to what I've been feeling for a long time. God is not glorified by an image of "perfection" or having it all together. He is glorified by us being transparent enough to let others see the crap we're going through and still allowing Him to work. So why in the world do us "church people" feel like we have to look like we have it all together, never let anybody see a vulnerable side of us, when God is not being glorified through that?
Now that does not mean we should go around complaining about all our problems, verbally throwing them up on everybody we see. So what does this transparency, this vulnerability look like? I'm not sure I really have the answer, but I think we all know what makes us feel vulnerable. I'm a crier, which I often curse and think of as a weakness. I've learned, though, that when something brings tears to my eyes, I need to stop and pay attention. This is often how God speaks to me and lays things on my heart. I feel especially vulnerable when I cry at church, and if you go to church with me you're probably very aware of this. I imagine all the things the people around me are thinking about me, if they're wondering what's wrong, what kind of awful things I must be going through, etc. etc. etc. And then I'm cursing the fact that we worship in a community center where it is impossible to dim the lights. My crying is out there for everyone to see bright and clear. That's where I'm vulnerable, especially when people ask me if I'm okay, what's wrong, etc. I always brush them off and tell them everything's fine. Well, why couldn't I just say what's actually happening? Would it be so bad to have my church family, people I know and love, lifting me up in prayer? I fail to see a negative here. I guess what I'm saying is we need to get over ourselves!! I have my new years goals of feeding my family more fruits and vegetables, being consistent with my flylady routine and of course the always needed goal of getting and staying in shape, but where my heart is really at this year is being transparent, letting myself be vulnerable with other people and through it all, glorifying God. Anybody with me??
Starting the year off on a serious note, I've been thinking a lot about transparency lately. I made a comment at bible study yesterday that actually surprised me coming out of my mouth. First, let me explain the context. If you know my family and the town we live in, you know that it's not always easy being part of my family in this town. There's an expectation to look like you have it all together, even when you don't. Now, in their defense, I think this dynamic has changed much in the past several years, but as I was growing up, this was definitely the expectation. So at bible study we were having a discussion about this and I was able to put words to what I've been feeling for a long time. God is not glorified by an image of "perfection" or having it all together. He is glorified by us being transparent enough to let others see the crap we're going through and still allowing Him to work. So why in the world do us "church people" feel like we have to look like we have it all together, never let anybody see a vulnerable side of us, when God is not being glorified through that?
Now that does not mean we should go around complaining about all our problems, verbally throwing them up on everybody we see. So what does this transparency, this vulnerability look like? I'm not sure I really have the answer, but I think we all know what makes us feel vulnerable. I'm a crier, which I often curse and think of as a weakness. I've learned, though, that when something brings tears to my eyes, I need to stop and pay attention. This is often how God speaks to me and lays things on my heart. I feel especially vulnerable when I cry at church, and if you go to church with me you're probably very aware of this. I imagine all the things the people around me are thinking about me, if they're wondering what's wrong, what kind of awful things I must be going through, etc. etc. etc. And then I'm cursing the fact that we worship in a community center where it is impossible to dim the lights. My crying is out there for everyone to see bright and clear. That's where I'm vulnerable, especially when people ask me if I'm okay, what's wrong, etc. I always brush them off and tell them everything's fine. Well, why couldn't I just say what's actually happening? Would it be so bad to have my church family, people I know and love, lifting me up in prayer? I fail to see a negative here. I guess what I'm saying is we need to get over ourselves!! I have my new years goals of feeding my family more fruits and vegetables, being consistent with my flylady routine and of course the always needed goal of getting and staying in shape, but where my heart is really at this year is being transparent, letting myself be vulnerable with other people and through it all, glorifying God. Anybody with me??
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
A Small Victory
I hate it when I don't have time to blog, because then I have days like today when I have so much to say but none of it goes together. So, this will be a post of randomness.
First, a funny story. The day after I posted about the dreaded turkeys they showed up again in our front yard. The boys were getting ready to leave for school and decided to "track" them around the yard a bit. Of course, they were too noisy and had the turkeys heading for the road. One of the neighbor kids saw the turkeys and started chasing them. Now at this point, my hubby went outside and asked her to please stop chasing the turkeys. She did not listen. Here comes the funny part. Those turkeys got so spooked, they started taking flight. I don't know if you've ever seen a turkey take flight, but those 40 pound birds don't get off the ground easily! Three of them didn't quite clear the house across the street and slammed into the roof before making it over the top. I cannot even imagine what it sounded like in that house to have 3 massive turkeys hit their roof at 7:00 in the morning. For days there were 3 big dents in the snow on that roof, made me laugh every time I saw it. The best part??? Not a turkey in sight since that day. Small victory for me? I think so!
This next story has no victory for me at all. For the past few nights, my husband and I have decided to play cards instead of watch tv. Now I have never been good at cards, probably because I grew up Baptist and good Baptists do not play cards. Also, my mind just doesn't wrap around the whole concept of cards. I think I'm good at many things, but cards is most definitely not one of them, I'm the one who nobody wants on their team. So, anyways, we decided to play gin rummy. Pretty easy game, I picked it up well, I thought. I honestly do not ever remember being as frustrated as I was the past 2 nights in a row. I am either the most unlucky person EVER or I'm just an idiot who really can't pick up a very easy game. I would have the best hand, ready to lay it down and Billy would draw just the card he needed to beat me. This happened over and over and over. If you know me, you know I'm pretty cool-headed, I bring a sense of calm to crisis situations and rarely lose control. I was absolutely seething, ready to punch a wall, or Billy or anything in my way at the time. UGH!!! I'm mad just thinking about it. I really am a good sport, people. I know how to lose gracefully, but something about losing when I don't seem to have any control whatsoever over the outcome just about did me in. Not much point to that story, but now you know not to have me over to play cards. Unless, of course, we're playing for money and you want a sure thing.
Now I can't remember what else I wanted to talk about. We're leaving in about 20 minutes for the long drive to my in-laws for Thanksgiving weekend. Looking forward to some real shopping! Oh, and of course, for Thanksgiving...Am I the only one who thinks the actual Thanksgiving dinner is horrid? Everybody else is stuffed and I wish I could get away with just eating pumpkin pie. I love the season of giving thanks, it just seems like every year it goes by and I have a sense of "we MUST do that better next year". I don't know, just my thoughts...
First, a funny story. The day after I posted about the dreaded turkeys they showed up again in our front yard. The boys were getting ready to leave for school and decided to "track" them around the yard a bit. Of course, they were too noisy and had the turkeys heading for the road. One of the neighbor kids saw the turkeys and started chasing them. Now at this point, my hubby went outside and asked her to please stop chasing the turkeys. She did not listen. Here comes the funny part. Those turkeys got so spooked, they started taking flight. I don't know if you've ever seen a turkey take flight, but those 40 pound birds don't get off the ground easily! Three of them didn't quite clear the house across the street and slammed into the roof before making it over the top. I cannot even imagine what it sounded like in that house to have 3 massive turkeys hit their roof at 7:00 in the morning. For days there were 3 big dents in the snow on that roof, made me laugh every time I saw it. The best part??? Not a turkey in sight since that day. Small victory for me? I think so!
This next story has no victory for me at all. For the past few nights, my husband and I have decided to play cards instead of watch tv. Now I have never been good at cards, probably because I grew up Baptist and good Baptists do not play cards. Also, my mind just doesn't wrap around the whole concept of cards. I think I'm good at many things, but cards is most definitely not one of them, I'm the one who nobody wants on their team. So, anyways, we decided to play gin rummy. Pretty easy game, I picked it up well, I thought. I honestly do not ever remember being as frustrated as I was the past 2 nights in a row. I am either the most unlucky person EVER or I'm just an idiot who really can't pick up a very easy game. I would have the best hand, ready to lay it down and Billy would draw just the card he needed to beat me. This happened over and over and over. If you know me, you know I'm pretty cool-headed, I bring a sense of calm to crisis situations and rarely lose control. I was absolutely seething, ready to punch a wall, or Billy or anything in my way at the time. UGH!!! I'm mad just thinking about it. I really am a good sport, people. I know how to lose gracefully, but something about losing when I don't seem to have any control whatsoever over the outcome just about did me in. Not much point to that story, but now you know not to have me over to play cards. Unless, of course, we're playing for money and you want a sure thing.
Now I can't remember what else I wanted to talk about. We're leaving in about 20 minutes for the long drive to my in-laws for Thanksgiving weekend. Looking forward to some real shopping! Oh, and of course, for Thanksgiving...Am I the only one who thinks the actual Thanksgiving dinner is horrid? Everybody else is stuffed and I wish I could get away with just eating pumpkin pie. I love the season of giving thanks, it just seems like every year it goes by and I have a sense of "we MUST do that better next year". I don't know, just my thoughts...
Friday, November 11, 2011
Turkeys
I know what you're thinking. "Another blog about being thankful, blah, blah, blah". Well, I am thankful, I am blessed, but this is not that kind of post. This is a post about blasted turkeys. There's about 20 of them in all their nastiness out my front window right now. If you know me very well, you know I hate, HATE birds. Birds of all shapes and sizes, but especially the very large ones. Their nasty, sharp claws, wrinkly skin, ugly beaks. Ewww, ewww, ewww. Apparently there was an incident at an aviary (I think that's what they're called) when I was young and ever since I have been deathly afraid of birds. I used to have nightmares that a chicken was under my covers flapping around, scratching me and it couldn't get out because I was holding the covers down. Yeah, it's that bad.
So these wild turkeys have been hanging out by our house for the past few days. They're huge and the tracks they're leaving are really freaking me out. Luckily there hasn't been anybody around to see me looking out all the windows to see if they're around and then running for the car in sheer terror. I'm trying to hold it together for my boys so they won't be afraid (and so they won't laugh at me), but it's really, really hard.
The worst part it, Taylor (my 9 year old) will be getting his turkey license and fully intends to shoot a turkey later this year. So, just like the elk meat hanging in my garage, we're going to have turkey hanging in our garage. Seriously, people, I don't think I'm gonna be able to handle it. And, I really don't think I'm going to be able to cook it or eat it. I'm cringing just thinking about it and that's months away.
I once saw a show that had a man who also hated turkey but he was so bad that he wouldn't even eat turkey of any kind. He just couldn't do it. I laughed and thought he was crazy, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm headed that direction. I'm supposed to be a "mental health professional", I really need to get a handle on this...
So these wild turkeys have been hanging out by our house for the past few days. They're huge and the tracks they're leaving are really freaking me out. Luckily there hasn't been anybody around to see me looking out all the windows to see if they're around and then running for the car in sheer terror. I'm trying to hold it together for my boys so they won't be afraid (and so they won't laugh at me), but it's really, really hard.
The worst part it, Taylor (my 9 year old) will be getting his turkey license and fully intends to shoot a turkey later this year. So, just like the elk meat hanging in my garage, we're going to have turkey hanging in our garage. Seriously, people, I don't think I'm gonna be able to handle it. And, I really don't think I'm going to be able to cook it or eat it. I'm cringing just thinking about it and that's months away.
I once saw a show that had a man who also hated turkey but he was so bad that he wouldn't even eat turkey of any kind. He just couldn't do it. I laughed and thought he was crazy, but I'm starting to wonder if I'm headed that direction. I'm supposed to be a "mental health professional", I really need to get a handle on this...
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Meat
First of all, I just discovered there's another blog titled Regular Mom. So much for me being original, I don't even have that going for me! Oh well, I like the name anyways.
Now on to my topic. There's an elk hanging in my garage. Well, actually, there's 4 legs with large amounts of meat attached to them and some unknown parts (except the testicle hanging there, I do recognize that, yuck) hanging in my garage. Not really sure how I feel about this, but I'm avoiding the garage as much as possible until I figure it out. The last time he killed an animal (he shot a buck when we lived in Grand Junction) it went straight to the processor and came home nicely wrapped in clearly labeled packages. This I am okay with. He has asked many times if I'm going to help him "process" this meat. Which means cutting it all up and wrapping it to go into our freezer, into my cooking, and into our mouths. My response to him is "I'm not that kind of wife" and "If you expect me to cook it and eat it, I will not be taking part in the processing of it". He keeps asking... I'm trying to be the supportive, encouraging "helper" wife I know I'm supposed to be, and I'm so happy for him and his successful hunt, but I think the line might need to be drawn. We've also been given different advice from about 10 different people on how the processing of this meat should take place, what seasonings to add, whether or not to add some fat in, what parts to keep and not keep. Ugh. Do we really have to talk about this so much? I just have to say, I'm ready for this to be over so I don't have to talk about meat anymore.
Disclaimer: Now, don't get me wrong, I'm totally impressed with you women who hunt with your husbands, or without, and who involve yourself completely in the process from start to finish. I don't have an issue with hunting, I'm really thankful for the provision God has given us! I just don't really want to be the one doing it. And since it's my blog, I get to share my opinion. Take it or leave it!!
Now on to my topic. There's an elk hanging in my garage. Well, actually, there's 4 legs with large amounts of meat attached to them and some unknown parts (except the testicle hanging there, I do recognize that, yuck) hanging in my garage. Not really sure how I feel about this, but I'm avoiding the garage as much as possible until I figure it out. The last time he killed an animal (he shot a buck when we lived in Grand Junction) it went straight to the processor and came home nicely wrapped in clearly labeled packages. This I am okay with. He has asked many times if I'm going to help him "process" this meat. Which means cutting it all up and wrapping it to go into our freezer, into my cooking, and into our mouths. My response to him is "I'm not that kind of wife" and "If you expect me to cook it and eat it, I will not be taking part in the processing of it". He keeps asking... I'm trying to be the supportive, encouraging "helper" wife I know I'm supposed to be, and I'm so happy for him and his successful hunt, but I think the line might need to be drawn. We've also been given different advice from about 10 different people on how the processing of this meat should take place, what seasonings to add, whether or not to add some fat in, what parts to keep and not keep. Ugh. Do we really have to talk about this so much? I just have to say, I'm ready for this to be over so I don't have to talk about meat anymore.
Disclaimer: Now, don't get me wrong, I'm totally impressed with you women who hunt with your husbands, or without, and who involve yourself completely in the process from start to finish. I don't have an issue with hunting, I'm really thankful for the provision God has given us! I just don't really want to be the one doing it. And since it's my blog, I get to share my opinion. Take it or leave it!!
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