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Jason

A birthday letter to you,


It's the perfect time to write you a birthday letter. I know we're into the fourteenth hour of your special day, but there's been little time before now.
It's been a busy weekend getting Hayden set-up to attend Sam Houston in the fall.  We're not ready for that are we? Every time I hear the word college it adds three grays; the word graduate adds wrinkles.
Right now you're driving south on Highway 69 getting us closer to home. You aren't much of a conversationalist from the driver's seat. Your job is to get us where we're going; you're steady and sure.  You have little need for entertainment in the process. So I'll talk to you now without expectation of a response.
I'm going to make your birthday cake today. It'll be yellow cake with chocolate icing. You insist that the yellow/chocolate combo is the only legitimate kind of birthday cake. I disagree, but it's your birthday.
So today,
Have it Your Way..
Apparently that's how you can have it (namely, a hamburger) at Burger King, but I'm smart enough to not have it at Burger King at all.  The cakes I've made you in the past make me wonder why you rejected my idea to stop at Gigi's to pick up some cupcakes guaranteed to please your palate.
My cake is always subpar. I never have the patience to wait until the cake cools. Yellow cake crumbles make their way into the chocolate icing. This happens too when the cake is too moist.  And when my cake turns out dry. My philosophy is,
Trust in the icing.
Anyway, just want to say that you're the icing to my life.
You cover my shortcomings with grace and understanding. Life's crumbles don't matter quite so much with the nearness of you. You make the plain exciting.
You make life sweeter.
Happy 39th.
Much love,
Your Favorite Cake

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I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. Luke 5:32

I yelled at the kids today. That happens sometimes on three day weekends. It happens when the kids have spent a significant stretch of time together. Interacting for too long typically allows room for personalities to clash. "Passive aggressive, bored sibling" antagonizes "she who wants to be alone and has succumbed to pouting". Then there's the sibling who is already distraught by my cleaning orders who goes into melt-down mode after being annoyed by above said passive aggressive sibling. There's sinister laughter, whining, false accusations and gnashing of teeth (the gnashing of teeth would be me). 

So I yelled. 

We'd just got back from Easterfest where we'd served the hordes Easter eggs  with a smile. I'd handed out a stack of church flyers inviting people to join us tomorrow morning for Easter services. I was inspired by bible verses and smiley faces and rainbows drawn on slab with bright-colored chalk. I posted a picture of such blessedness and I hash-tagged it "Jesus Saves". 

And now my kids were acting like they knew nothing about that. 

More sad, I was acting like I'd forgotten too. I began to tabulate my kids' transgressions along with my own (I'm really good at that). Grappling with the thoughts of "where are we going wrong", I began to feel more wretched.  

I live in the knowledge that there are some who question how I can call myself a Christian when I act unkind, or impatient or selfish(selfish is a big one). This is a question I ask myself too.   

....For I know my transgressions and my sin is always before me. Psalm 51:3

I'll go to church tomorrow though. Not because I think I'm holy. On the contrary, I'll go because I haven't a hint of holiness of my own. Not today. Not on my best day either. 

 I'll go because Holy God saw it fit to call me His own through His work on the cross. I go in gratitude. He's never dissuaded from loving me. He's never shocked by my lack of faith or misbehavior.  He never calls it quits. 

 Nobody can produce new evidence of your depravity that will make God change his mind.  For God justified you with (so to speak) his eyes open.  He knew the worst about you at the time when he accepted you for Jesus' sake; and the verdict which he passed then was, and is, final. (JJ Packer, Knowing God). 

Jesus saves. 

I'll post and share on Facebook that which is Jesus-related. Not because I emulate Christ rather well.  But because Jesus is who I aspire to be more like. We ALL need to be more like Jesus. 

I'll wear my "Forgiven" bracelet 

-sometimes forgetting I'm covered in his grace 

-sometimes erring so, that grace seems in vain. 

Still. 

Jesus saves. 

I'll hashtag #jesussaves and #christlivesinme even though I act rather hopeless  sometimes and I sink into despair for the smallest of reasons. Because he does.

Jesus saves. 

I'll cast aside the heaviness in my heart that has weighed me down this week as I've hurt alongside those with those deep hurts. I'll leave the hard questions without answers. Because I know one thing that matters above all things. 

Jesus saves. 

  1. Sing above the battle strife:
  1. Jesus saves! Jesus saves!
  1. By His death and endless life
  1. Jesus saves! Jesus saves!
  1. Shout it brightly through the gloom,
  1. When the heart for mercy craves;
  1. Sing in triumph o’er the tomb:
  1. Jesus saves! Jesus saves!

His grace is greater than my sin. So I'll sing brightly, shout triumphantly. 

Jesus saves. Jesus saves. 

  

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I've been burned by you before.
-Featherduster (Beauty and the Beast 1991)

I type this post with a shiny upper lip. I had to apply triple antibiotic ointment like Chapstick after I scratched underneath my nose.  I'd forgotten I had pepper juice on my finger from deseeding an angry jalapeño pepper. It burns something awful. The offender had dark brown seeds. I knew I was in trouble. I can't take the heat. 

This isn't the first time I've been injured by jalepeno seeds. My first experience was rather unpleasant too. I was pregnant with Hayden. Jason and I had made our first "married friends" at our birthing class. We decided to have a picnic at the local park. I found fresh jalepenos for some ridiculous price; I think maybe 29 cents a pound. The seeds were kind of dark but I thought nothing of it. I stuffed pimiento cheese in each pepper half, proud of my efforts. Everything was fine at first. But I remember shortly after, it began to burn underneath my fingernails. The sting didn't go away for days. Scouts honor...The skin under my wedding ring burned too. I can't even remember if we ate them. 

I've fixed stuffed peppers dozens of times since then; sometimes unscathed by their heat. Other times I've reached up to rub my eye after pepper making. Such a mistake. But I keep making them. 

I'm a glutton for punishment. 

Not only when it comes to peppers. 

I've been burned by my own expectations that haven't been met. 

I'm burned out by my commitments when I've made too many. 

Burned by rejection. 

Burned by those I trust and burned by a false sense of security, just to name a few things. 

We've all been burned. Most likely we return to some of those things that burn us; maybe because we can't avoid those things....maybe because we think that next time will be different. Even if we avoid those things which scathe us, we'd run into other sources of suffering. It's just life. It's not IF we're burned but rather when..

 More important than avoiding injury, is finding the balm that heals. 

I haven't found it for the pepper situation. My shiny upper lip still hurts. Thankfully my soul's afflictions are soothed by "The Great Physician". His words bring me comfort. His spirit brings healing. 

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.  When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.  Isaiah 43:2

If anybody knows how to heal pepper burns, let me know.

.......not everybody at once..........

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So I found out yesterday that it's Pastor's Wife Appreciation Month. Nice time to find out.  There are only a few days left in the month.

My wish would be to meet up with all of the fellow pastor's wives in my life for a sno cone or Mexican food or better yet a weekend getaway. There's something encouraging about spending time with them. But strangely, I rarely get the opportunity to hang out with this group of trusted friends. 

From one minister's wife to another-

Several of us are in different seasons of life. We're scattered in different directions doing whatever our current chapter of life is calling us to do. But one thing is for sure, every season as a pastor's wife is a busy one. Through the years we commit time to our community and/or a profession. Our schedule fluctuates according to the season. But the majority of our time and heart will always be spent on the two families God ordained for us; our husband, with maybe some kiddos......and our church family. 

Of course you're a part of that family. It's just that I take our sisterhood for granted knowing that our breed is strong enough to keep going on our own; remembering there's an unspoken connection between us. 

We wave at each other in passing. Hopefully we remember to send a birthday text or to deliver the picture frame we bought you three months ago that's still wrapped and sitting on our dresser.  Often I forget to tell you when  I've been touched by an offertory you played beautifully. I neglect to tell you about the good things I've been hearing about the Bible study you've been leading.  I don't take the time to mention how happy I am to see all those cars parked at your house on Wednesday nights for community group. And for you friends that serve in other churches? I rarely take the opportunity to listen to how your ministry is going. 

But you should know.......

I call you friend. 

You should know you're one I know I can call on when I need prayer and understanding. 

You should know I love your husband; your family.  

You're like family; a special kind of sister. 

You should know.....

-That I'm glad to be serving alongside someone who understands the irony of being surrounded by a loving church family only to find yourself at times struggling with loneliness. 

Realize that I'm grateful for the work you do. I know much of it is unseen. 

Know that I pray for you without taking the time to tell you when I see you and you look tired. .........or when I know your husband probably hasn't been home before dark several nights in a row because days of ministry rolled over into nights.  

...let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another. Hebrews 10:24

I want you to know that I'm glad to be serving alongside you, but I'd be glad to just talk, or listen, or cry or laugh with you

Or

Maybe go out for sno cones. 

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I love stories. I love sharing them. It runs in my family. We have a knack for making the story longer than the actual event. Take a trip to CVS for example. I can make that into a twenty-something minute story. I'll begin by telling you that on the way to CVS I hit the curb again. It happens on that weird curved part of the road on 27th street right as you're passing the Catholic Church going toward 365. I always feel squinched against the car next to me so I've on many occasions just rode the curb so my car can have breathing room. I'd then probably tell you that I have something I've come to call "Car Claustrophobia". See?  Already all the words before I get to CVS and have the problems picking up my prescription that's supposed to be ready.

Today I had the chance to share my story, my life story, the whole thing; very abridged of course. That meant that last night while writing an outline I kept in mind why my story matters.

That's why I impulsively decided to write a short(ish) life mission statement.  I knew that even having purpose in mind during my life story, I would ramble something awful forgetting that my reason in sharing would be to bring glory to God. I wished to make sure that my words rather than being wasted, would serve to share what I've learned from my life so far and the direction I choose to go because if it.

Underneath my sketched-out notes about my path, I wrote my own mission statement; a plan for my life. I wrote out the person who I'd like to be. And it was incredibly helpful. I hurled my words and wishes like darts and somehow a target formed; a life to shoot for.

At the risk of sounding hokey, I'm suggesting you write one too.

Here's how.......unofficially:

1. Think about what it is that's important to you. What's your mission? Being that I want to live a life pleasing to God, I thought about what things specifically are ingredients in living a fruitful Christian life.

2. Identify which of those characteristics you really stink at. And then write about doing the opposite. One of my failings? It's filling up my schedule before the day begins and then moving about whirl-windishly like Taz in that episode where he wore lipstick.  I end up cranky and anxious; void of life to share with my husband and my kids. Even worse I'm left without energy to spend the time I should in prayer and study. I wake up consumed by the day instead of by God.....So I stink at putting first things first. THAT is addressed in my mission statement.

3. Go to an expert for assistance in formulating your personal goal. Being that I am striving to live a Christian life, I used parts of scripture.

4. Pen your plan. The words don't have to be fancy or even understood by anybody else who might read them. This is your locker room speech to yourself. Say what needs to be said.

5. Read it every day. Pray it every day. Give it to your spouse or a friend and have them pray for those things specifically for your life.

I've included mine here.

My Life Mission Statement:

I commit to grow in my relationship with Christ by studying his word and will look to life with a ceaseless awareness of His presence. I'll not take grace for granted. I'll look for evidence of God and His goodness in leaves on a sidewalk, in the checkout line at the supermarket and in times of loss. I'll choose to talk to Him about everything and will make room for listening for His voice. 

I'll cherish the gift God has given me in my husband.  I'll extravagantly love him and my kids -protecting our time together, giving them the best of me. I'll aim to "bring them good, not harm all the days of my life". 

I'll open my arms to those outside my front door. I won't be anxious as to how my love will be received. I won't be set back when my love doesn't bring about the change I desire to see. I'll remember that His ways are higher than my ways. 

 As I, and those I love encounter difficulties I'll be mindful that "God works for the good of those who love him and have their purpose in Him".  I'll make God the focus of my trust, the reason for my hope and the object of my love. 

 

If you write one, I'd love it if you'd share.  

Send it to me. 

Here's my email. kristiburden@gmail.com

Also, don't forget to subscribe if you'd like to receive these posts by email. 

 

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Be brave and kind. 

That's the message the new Cinderella is sending. It's out in theaters now so I took the girls and a friend to see it. 

Starring Lily James of Downton Abbey, "Ella" finds herself an object of constant punishment at the hands of her stepmother and two stepsisters. Unlike the original Cinderella, this version lets you settle in and grow to love Cinderella's parents before their separate and untimely death. 

Cinderella's mother is gentle and wise and spends time with her daughter. She is stricken ill suddenly and calls Cinderella in during her final moment to remind her that in life she should always be brave and kind. 

Her father loves Cinderella and her mother madly. After his wife's death, he searches for happiness hoping to find it in Lady Tremaine (played by Cate Blanchett). On a business trip he asks Cinderella and the stepdaughters what each of them would like him to bring back. Anastasia and Drizella each ask for something of monetary and cosmetic value while Cinderells asks simply for a branch, the first one he brushes across-so that he'll carry thoughts of her with him along his way. He falls ill and dies during the trip. 

I grew up a Disney kid, excited every Sunday night when the Disney castle and fireworks appeared on my TV screen to the tune of "When You Wish upon a Star". I've never met a Disney film I didn't like. But I think this Cinderella might have captured things that the original Disney neglected or else didn't make plain to young viewers. 

In the film Cinderella is a pretty girl, but she wears little makeup. She's even a bit plain and her hair is need of some serious mama brushing.  She meets up with the prince in the forest one day. They're enamored with each other, she not knowing he's a prince. A bit similar to Sleeping Beauty, the prince meets her as she truly is and that's the girl he falls for. 

I don't want to give the whole movie away. This Cinderella is a bit more sad than the original. Whereas animated Cinderella finds companionship with the mice, particularly Gus-Gus, this Cinderella looks out for them and enjoys their company, in this film her loneliness is a little more evident. She remains brave and kind; big in her small existence. She is made beautiful and fancy by her fairy godmother for the night of the royal ball where she once again captures the heart of the prince. But I feel viewers are aware that her inner beauty holds more magnetism than her shimmery gown. 

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment , such as hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. 1 Peter 3:3-4

Her unfading beauty is much attributed to the teachings and love of her mother and father. Good parents seem to be missing from many Disney films (except for the animal films, Simba and Bambi have awesome parents). This movie reminds us of the importance of leaving a legacy of good character to our children through words and time and deeds.   

I know there are a hundred reviews of the new Cinderella. Why add another? Cinderella speaks words of forgiveness to her stepmother at the end; a pleasant surprise in an eye for an eye world that exists now even in cartoons.  I'm happy to support a movie void of bathroom humor and inappropriate language; full of goodness. This movie makes plain the importance of inner beauty and carrying on the love found in family. I found it refreshing. 

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Maybe I should have been at church last night listening to my husband's message about how God talked to Moses face to face the way he would a friend. Instead, I was at the Heritage Festival with the kids eating fried food and spending money to let Rylie walk around in a large ball, like the ones gerbils walk around in (except it's on water). I do say though, it was a mid-seventies, mild lovely night. 

My job was simple. All I had to do was follow Rylie around until she found something she wanted to ride or climb through. Then I'd find the exit and wait for her. I'd watch her; so easily thrilled on each ride. Some of the rides were easy to watch. Other rides (even as a bystander) made me nauseous and feel rather out of control.  I've broken the attractions down in terms of how I enjoyed them using emojis. (I just learned that my iPad keyboard has smiley faces and I intend to use them.)

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She gave me the once over and then looked straight at me. "You really like to wear those comfy shirts don't you?.......... You wear them all the time."  The words of a third grade choir member rang in my head as I decided what to wear to a doctor's appointment this past Thursday.

"Wear something,....anything besides one of those shirts," I said to myself.

Her observation was keen.

I knew distinctly which shirts she was talking about. I have three of them. I bought them from Target. They're long and soft and comfortable. I originally bought one in black and a heather color, but was overjoyed when I saw that the same comfortable shirt came in white with black stripes.

"And I know," she said. They all have a zipper in the back."

She was right. About all of it. The zipper. The fact that they're comfy. And the fact that I wear them all of the time.

 I like to be comfortable.

I like to wear blue jeans and flip flops.....and comfortable shirts. Plain is pretty to me.

I drink a Dr Pepper and have a Dark Chocolate Chunk Granola Bar.  Every. Single. Morning. I'm all about making life predictable.

I like the fact that four out of the five in our family have phones. We can stay in touch. We even have the stalker apps on three of them. If I hear an ambulance and can't reach Hayden (to make sure he's ok), I can find his geographic location at the touch of a button. Because I like to know we're safe. 

I go crazy when part of us have to travel, forcing our family be split between different counties. I'm anxious when one of my children or even Jason doesn't share my feelings on controversial issues. I like tight boundaries. And I like to be the one who draws the lines. 

But I've been called out. Maybe I'm calling you out too.

As one who's been given the once over, I've been reminded that life isn't always supposed to be comfortable.

Comfortable doesn't produce growth.

And testimonies aren't made in safe bounds.

Following Christ will at times lead us to experience the opposite of comfort.

Whether our discomfort is minor or comes in the form of deep suffering , we do best to remember these things:

Comfort isn't always ours to keep. 

Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 1 Peter 4:12

Purpose comes through suffering. 

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. 1Peter 5:10

Our discomfort may bring comfort to another. 

Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice......Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought.....Be devoted to one another in love....Never be lacking in spiritual fervor......Share with the Lord's people who are in need.....Mourn with those who mourn. Romans 12

As believers our suffering is temporary. The future holds something better. 

.......what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. Romans 8:18

Removed comfort is a reminder to look to Jesus and is opportunity to grow in our faith.  

...... everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.
For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith. 

 We don't suffer alone. 

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. Isaiah 43:2


Our default is set to choose comfort. Comfort isn't always ours. Choosing to trust God outside those bounds brings things far greater. It has been in times of greatest suffering that God's goodness overwhelms me. 



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Jason and I checked out JuJu's Cajun Crawfish in Fannett. He's mostly done the review part while I walk down memory lane. I need to walk. I ate a lot of crawfish.

A word from my guy:

Since Kristi and I started doing these Foodie Reviews we've recieved some great suggestions for out of the way eating places. We're working our way throught the list so if you haven't seen one you've told us about, it's coming.

This morning, we headed out for Ju Ju's. Check them out on Facebook and give them a Like. We heard about them just this past week.

I don't know how we've missed this spot for the past 4 years. This is legitimate South East Texas Cajun food.

Guess what they serve: Crawfish.

You can have it with Corn and Potoatoes or you can have it by itself. You can have it mild or spicy.  You can have it with one of three dipping sauces (I suggest the pink sauce).

When you cook only one thing, you better cook it well.

Ju Ju's delivers the flavor!

We ordered ours spicy. Can you feel the heat coming off of this picture?

Kristi and I always check the Internet to see when a place opens its doors. We like to eat early on Fridays to avoid the lunch rush. We didn't beat anything this morning. The locals were way ahead of us and lined up at the door. We were fortunate enough to be one of the first dozen or so patrons. Beyond that they run out of seating.

If you get there after the rush has already hit, don't go in the door.  They have a system. They'll take your phone number, send you back to your car to wait, and call you to come in when there's space. This isn't McDonald's or Burger King.

The crawfish are plentiful and BIG this year. I've heard from many that this is going to be one of the best seasons for Mud Bugs.

Check them out sometime. You can find them at:

18277 FM 365, Fannett, Tx

On a side note, if you're in Nederland on a Friday night in the Spring of the year, Butcher's Korner is serving up the Mud Bugs hot and fresh. You can dine in or have him fill up your cooler to take home with you. Check out their Facebook page as well.

-Jason

Now here's my memory walk and more about JuJu's:

Today we ate at JuJu's Cajun Crawfish in Fannett, but my thoughts drifted west and back a few years to my dad's filter shop. I worked there several years growing up. His shop is still in business today manufacturing air filters that are much better than the filters you get anywhere else. While the filters are the best in the business, his little shop is a bit on the run down side. If you could see the walls, you'd see taped-up pictures drawn by employees' kids. You'd also see dates marked in permanent black ink with the number of filters made that broke the record of some other prior date. That wouldn't be only place you'd see his handwriting on the wall.

Juju's is much the same. A cardboard flat where soft drink once were stacked now serves as a sign telling customers what kind of dipping sauces are served. Other handwritten signs on copy and notebook paper remind

Keep door closed.

Do not block area.

Do not enter kitchen area.

Do not rush us.

Please. Do not rush us.

There was a window unit whose vent was stuffed underneath with napkins to manipulate the direction of airflow also reminding me of my dad and his philosophy that a permanent marker, hot glue and masking tape can fix just about anything.

You won't find a welcome mat at either place. Just like my dad's establishment has always been focused on filter-making and little else, Juju's is serious about serving good crawfish. And they succeed.

You'll find three card tables and three picnic tables inside. The "porch" has about eight chairs in a circle for those waiting to get in. It's cozy inside; so much that I was able to notice the hands of the couple beside us. I asked them how they kept their hands so clean being that my crawfish eating gets pretty messy. They told me, "Well, we eat here twice a week so I guess we've got it down". I'd say that's a good plan.