“How was Jameson today, Mama?”, Ryan asks most evenings. Five days in a row I reported what an absolute blessing he had been in helpfulness, cheerfulness, and obedience. And so, on Saturday morning, Ryan surprised him with a special outing for pancakes.
I love this kid.
I’ve read quite a few good books in the last 6 (or so) months. I won’t tell you about how much I love Poirot, how my very first Dorothy Sayers novel kept me from household responsibilities (and sleep) until I finished it, or how glad I was for an excuse to read several Dear Diary books. But there are several reads that, I think, are worth mentioning.
This is the first.
Overall, fabulous.
He challenges us to a close look at biblical masculinity, lest we confuse it with current culture’s expectations. This trickles down to what to expect from your young hooligan (and what to allow — outdoors), how to approach education, how to interact with mothers and sisters, and what manners to enforce and why. It also means teaching boys to value wisdom, work and diligence, purity, strength, justice, prudence, and respect. (Those also are all topics well-covered in the book.)
As I read, I was inspired by the call to shape fine, strong arrows — to rise to the task of training young men who will take the world by storm. And of course, inherent in all that I mentioned above is the expectation that parents must first model and show their commitment to godliness in incredibly practical, every-single-day ways.
(One of my favorite tid-bits? The difference between rest and laziness: Rest is preparation for continued work. I like that.)
I was getting ready to start work on a recipe for dinner that I made several months ago, but when I pulled up the bookmarked page, I discovered that the recipe was gone. Ugh! [Paper and ink cookbooks get one point.]
So I’m going to jot it down here, and once again, bookmark it. Feel free to do the same, should you want to.
(for four:)
— four boneless skinless breasts, pounded to even thickness*
— 1/2 cup mayonnaise
— 1 T dijon (or Gulden’s Spicy Brown!) mustard
— 1 T lemon juice
— 1/4 cup parmesan cheese
— 4-6 T bread crumbs
— 1 t Italian herbs (basil, oregano, whatever)
— salt and pepper
Preheat oven to 425.
Lay chicken breasts in a rimmed, greased baking sheet (or an oiled 9×13).
Mix mayo-parmesan cheese. Add salt and pepper to taste. Spread the mixture evenly between the breasts.
Combine bread crumbs, herbs, and salt and pepper to taste. Cover the breasts evenly.
Bake, uncovered, for 20 minutes or until chicken is done.
*At the risk of sounding ridiculously cheap, I usually pound my breasts, decide they look HUGE, and then cut them all in half. People end up eating one half and seldom ask for more. So, you know, your penny goes a bit farther. Or further. Whatever. It lasts longer.
Three years ago, he wasn’t even born. This morning, he’s laying on the couch with a magazine, singing to himself while he pores over the pages.
Really?
Recently:
:: I asked him to do something. He turned with a smirk and said, “Mom, you make me nuts.”
:: Ryan tucked Jameson under his covers, and then, when he climbed in next to him to read a bedtime story, Jameson said, “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.”
:: Sunday morning, while we were taking a walk, Jameson piped up (knowing that we were heading in the general direction of Peet’s), “You wanna yatte, Mom?”
Seriously? Was I just offered a latte by a two year old??
Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? Just as it is written, “For Your sake we are being put to death all day long; We were considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
For I am convinced.
That’s how I want to be.