What Did My Daughter's Wedding Teach Me About Christmas?

You are really busy, right? With Thanksgiving in the rearview mirror and Christmas around the corner, I want to offer a suggestion. Necessity birthed my discovery, and here it is:

Invite the Holy Spirit to be your Event Coordinator

Our daughter's engagement brought great joy. She and Matt were in their 30’s, and both wondered if they would ever find each other. Mutual friends attempted for five years to get them together, but human attempts failed.

Finally, and     in     God’s     timing,
They met, fell in love, became engaged, and were ready (!) to get married. 

However,    

The logistics looked like a UPS commercial minus the music. Grace lived in Kansas City, Matt lived in Albuquerque, we lived in Cincinnati, and the wedding would be in Denver. Agree with me - that configuration of geography is enough to send any MOB (mother of the bride) to bed with a headache. 

But I was entirely too happy to have a headache! Even so, I could not erase reality. In the face of this conundrum, our wonderful Lord brought to mind His wonderful wisdom: 

Invite the Holy Spirit to be your Event Coordinator

Yes! What a marvelous idea! Quietly, but deliberately, I invited the Holy Spirit to completely take control, to do what only He could do, to make this the wedding of our daughter’s dreams. Practically, this meant all decisions would go through Him; all dilemmas would be delegated to Him. 

The change was supernatural. 
With that prayer, I relaxed and set about the business of doing everything I could to be a great team player. His succinct guidance replaced my random effort; His wisdom replaced my worry. As I daily donned my headset and interviewed countless vendors thousands of miles away, He guided me, one by one, to His choicest people for our celebration. 

The outcome was supernatural.
Early morning of the wedding, standing in my robe, clutching my mug of coffee, I wept. I could not help myself. Sunshine poured through our small window, and sunshine poured over my soul. Gratitude enveloped my whole being. This was our daughter’s wedding day, and it held promise of being perfect, not because of me, but because of our Event Coordinator.

So there you have it, my suggestion for your December. 

Invite the Holy Spirit to be your Event Coordinator

Colossians 1: 9 pulls this all together: 
Asking God to fill you with the knowledge of His will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding…

Question: What action do you need to take to engage the Holy Spirit as your Event Coordinator for the holidays? 

How Badly Do You Want a Turkey?

Encore of my blog post in 2015. 

“Hold the plucked bird over the gas flame of the stovetop to remove the remaining fuzz on the flesh.” Disgusting. 

Imagine Thanksgiving without a turkey! Our problem loomed larger with every passing day. Keep in mind, the world beyond America feeds and fattens turkeys for December, not November. This challenge called for creativity. 

Determined to avoid a turkey-less Thanksgiving, we bundled up and drove downtown Warsaw to the outdoor Farmers’ Market to negotiate an early turkey. Trudging through the stalls, we located a semi-friendly vendor who cautiously agreed to do business. In rudimentary Polish, we arranged to collect a turkey in time for our Thanksgiving holiday. To guarantee the transaction, we paid in advance and set a date to return.

The week of Thanksgiving, Larry and I returned expectantly to collect our purchase. Dodging puddles, we shoved past shoppers and merchants, and schlepped down the narrow concrete aisle of the make-do shelter where villagers came to sell their wares. Past the pickle barrels, past the potato bins, past the slabs of hanging pork, we eventually reached our vendor near the end of the row of stalls. 

Oh my! Our agreement sat, ready and waiting.  Shabbily wrapped in pieces of old newspaper, our pitiful, scrawny bird waited for us. Oh - it was dead - but barely. Minus the head, “the rest” remained as our homework. What would U.S.D.A. think of this? (Not to mention CDC.)

Reluctantly, we collected our prize, placed him in the trunk of our yellow Fiat, and drove him home to begin the process of making him presentable, and yes…edible. 

Hold the plucked bird over the gas flame of the stovetop to remove the remaining fuzz on the flesh. Somewhere, someone offered this suggestion. Before long, the singed odor permeated every crack and crevice of our small home, and my appetite for our upcoming feast steadily waned. 

When we gathered around the dining room table on Thanksgiving Day, the disgusting ordeal stayed with me. The End Product sat on the platter, but my mind served up pictures of its own. I nearly gagged at the technicolor memory of that nasty bird on the newspaper at the market, riding in the trunk of our car, and hanging over the flame in our kitchen. I choked down my portion and politely refused seconds. I was thankful all right, very thankful, to be done. 

Another year passed, and once again, the Thanksgiving turkey posed a problem. My memories of the previous disgusting ordeal still weighed heavily on my spirit. Yet with no other options, we went through the same drill, and reserved another turkey at the Farmers’ Market. 

In the surge of life, I paid little attention to the upcoming raffle at David’s kindergarten.

...Something being given away? ... a turkey? How nice... Did you say, "An American Butterball from the Embassy’s forbidden-to-outsiders Commissary?" Oh sure, we will buy a couple of tickets. Why not? I’ll even pray, “Lord, please let us win the Butterball. Please.”

And then...

       few days later ...

                 on the street... 

                           outside a Warsaw restaurant...

“Debby, Debby, I am looking for you!” In the din of noisy buses and trams, I barely heard my name over the roar as Sandra (David's teacher) jumped out of the taxi, and frantically came running to greet me. Clutching my children in the confusion and chaos of traffic, I wondered why she was so animated, and why the search for me. Sandra wasted no time in making her point.

“We just finished the drawing, and guess what! You won! Your family won the prize of the American Butterball Turkey!” 

The American Butterball Turkey. Did she say we won? No. No way! In utter amazement, I asked, "How could this possibly be happening?" 

Shock gave way to overwhelming gratitude as it dawned on me that God actually heard my prayer. He genuinely cared about such an insignificant matter as a turkey. 

Holiday preparation differed drastically from the year previous. Rich aromas of this buttery baking beauty wafted in stark contrast to the previous bird's smell of singed flesh. We relished each peek into the tiny communist oven - which was nearly too small to house the trophy. 

Once baked to perfection and sitting on a platter, we took photos standing around our roasted royalty. Carving the mega monster 14-pound turkey was ceremonial. The festive atmosphere continued as second and even third portions were consumed. What a feast!

Yet, amidst the excitement, I experienced an overwhelming sense of gratitude; this turkey was a gift from God. 

The Words of Psalm 34:4 seemed written just for me: “Delight yourself in The Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” On a Thanksgiving Day decades ago, Disgust gave way to Delight. Ironic - God used a turkey to teach me so much. 

Sweet Potato Soufflé Recipe

Much more than a recipe - a memory

Thanksgiving was just around the corner, and so was a proposal. But I did not know that! Desperately in love with a Mississippi State football player two years my junior and 242 miles away, I counted the days until we shared the holiday. It was 1972. He brought a request; I brought a recipe – both have stood the test of time. The recipe follows, with my adaptations.

                                                     Sweet Potato Soufflé 
Ingredients:
2 cups baked and mashed sweet potatoes (I recommend 6 potatoes)
½ stick butter (1 stick)
1 c. white sugar
5 oz. can of Carnation evaporated milk
2 eggs (I suggest 4)
½ t. nutmeg
½ t. cinnamon (I use 1t.)
1 t. vanilla (I prefer 1 T.)
1 t. imitation butter flavoring
¼ t. salt 

Topping:
¾ c. crushed cornflakes
½ c. chopped pecans (3/4 c.)
½ c. light brown sugar
½ stick melted butter

Instructions Part 1:
Bake and mash the sweet potatoes. 
Push through a strainer to remove any lumps. 
Add butter and butter flavoring to warm potatoes.
Stir in canned milk.
Separately, add spices and salt to the sugar. Stir.
Beat eggs and add to sugar mixture. Mix.
Combine all ingredients, and mix well with a mixer. 
Spoon into a greased 9x11 casserole dish.

Instructions Part 2:
Combine topping ingredients of light brown sugar, cornflakes, pecans, and butter. Mix well with a fork. 
Sprinkle topping over sweet potato dish. 
Bake 30 minutes at 350-400 degrees. 
Check and cover with foil if topping is getting too brown. 
Extend cooking, if necessary, until heated through. 

Sideboard: 
Make ahead and freeze without the topping. In this case, add the topping at time of baking.
Your guests just might consider this a dessert.

Credit:
I am grateful to Laurie Lorenzen for making this recipe available to me in 1972, my first year on staff with Campus Crusade for Christ.

Question: Will you please let me know if this recipe sets the stage for a proposal?