Jen’s Famous Chocolate Chip Cookies

   

~Jen’s Famous Chocolate Chip Cookies~

1 C. Unsalted butter (melted)

1 egg

1 tsp. vanilla extract

1 1/2 C. Brown sugar

~mix~

Mix 2 1/2 flour with 1 tsp. baking soda, then add to wet ingredients 

1 1/2 C. chocolate chips 

-form into disks—2 in. wide by 1/2-3/4 in. tall.

-preheat oven to 350, bake for 8 mins.

-remove from oven, let cookies cool on pan to set.

Paint With the Color of Pain

This poem is really late. I wrote it early this year and then "let it sit." But I came back to it today and it actually convicted me. So, on that note, here you go--

Paint with the Color of Pain
(Written for Bethany Rose, anyone who needs it, and for myself)

So brittle 

I might break.

What's it like 

not to ache?

Pushed it too far--

my mistake.

This smile

is getting

hard
to fake.

I ask the inevitable, 

dear Lord, why me?

I look down the long road.

I'm so weary.

It's part of Your plan,

but did it have to be?

My pain and confusion 

are all I can see.

So strange

how short my memory.

My wish for change

gets the best of me.

To not feel pain--

how glad I'd be!

But I'd forget that

once I was freed.

The rose is perfect,

the shape of grace

and heavenly peace

upon its face.

But see the color,

the brightest red

like the living blood

our Savior bled.

The color of both

joy and sorrow

--scarlett--

it chases the sunset

and

heralds tomorrow.

The trials are ugly

because you stand too close:

step back,

they're the spiraling petals

that form the rose.

This is meant to make you look

in the right direction,

so that His plan

and your purpose

won't escape your detection.

Do you want your life to be
built on a cloud
 that shifts more than sand,
 is a fast-fading pink?
 That deep, bright, bold red speaks
clear and loud:
 it spells "suffered but saved"
in permanent ink.

So remember the heartbreaking
 beauty
your life will retain
when He chooses
 to paint
with the color 
of pain.

A Poem by a Friend (Revisited)

 The following poem was written by a friend. I hope that you will be blessed by these beautiful words as I have been. Thanks to Mrs. Delich for giving me permission to post this. Please check out her blog at https://traciedelich.wordpress.com!

Poem by Tracie Delich

A valley so deep
I can't see the end.
Where do I go? 
On You I depend.

Storm clouds roll over me.
Where is the sun?
There is one Light now.
You are the One.

Give me the strength I need.
None is left in me.
You say that You love me.
Help me believe.

Humbled, so humbled
By all I can't do.
Blessed, so blessed
By all others do.

Learning to take
One day as it goes,
To count the small blessings
Instead of the woes.

I give You the glory
For getting me through.
 The prayers of so many
Come daily to You.

Playing War to Pass the Time

This is a poem I wrote for a literature class in response to a story by James Joyce using the themes "escape" and "the passing of time." The story is about a boy who reads Detective and Wild West stories and plays Indians wars with his friend but still feels that he is lacking something. He finally decides to play truant from school and explore a nearby city. In case you are wondering how that turned out, he saw the sites, bought sweets,  but then he met a crazy stranger and came away from the encounter rather shaken, having learned his lesson.

Playing War to Pass the Time

He played at war to pass time,
but  time lead him to believe
he heard a call, a distant chime:
“For true excitement, you must leave.”

For he was trapped within routine
and the dulling colors of life;
pretend adventures lost their sheen:
A boy's no warrior! A stick's no knife!

He sits inside a shrinking room
hour after ponderous hour.
Facts and figures, this tedious doom
would crush his dream while still in flower.

To be a traveler-oh what glory-
in his land the sharpest mind,
quick and dangerous like in stories:
there's not one outlaw he can't find.

He thinks that he might risk a scrape.
He quells the thought, but he still finds
he cannot find a real escape
in playing war to pass the time.

24 Reasons Why I'm Actually a Cat

(Some reasons are better than others.)

1.  I prefer to work independently.
2. I literally jump at sudden noises (the more aware I am that they could happen the jumpier I get).
3. I spontaneously dash through the house, occasionally coming close to bowling somebody over (sorry, guys).
4.   I am honest about how I feel about what you're doing. And expressive.
5. I wish I had a high-up place where no one else could go where I could withdraw and people-watch (a treehouse in the living room would be nice).
6. I L-O-V-E the idea of cat naps, though I'm still trying to figure them out.
7. I love warmth.
8. I'm an impeccable groomer (I brush my hair about 10 times a day just because it feels mussed up)
9. Cats recognize me as an equal, which they couldn't do if I was human.
10. "I am the cat who walks by himherself." I like time alone.
11. I need to take social cat naps because being out and about drains me.
12. I scratch my ear with my foot.
13. Just kidding! :)
14. I'm always right (not really, of course). I don't always have an opinion, but, when I do, you know about it.
15. I'm picky about food...sort of. Okay, so I basically just hate peppers. 
16. I have to do it myself: you can't ever help me. Unless you're making me food...in that case, go for it. I'll be reading a book.
17. I love water.
18. Wait a minute...
19. I'm hard to impress. Try to impress a cat. It's hard. I mean, think about it: remaining calm is an excellent way to conserve energy. Unless you give me something I absolutely L-O-V-E, I won't be turning cartwheels. 
20. I can't turn cartwheels.
21. I go easy during the day so that I end up staying awake for hours at night, and for absolutely no reason, which is what makes this so cat-like.
22. I fake sleep, and I'm sure that cats do too just so you don't bother them. But I don't act like I'm sleeping when I'm not trying to actually go to sleep.
23. I collect weird things, and they become my toys.
24. I meow, hiss, and caterwaul fluently--you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between me and the real thing! True story, everyone. I've literally had years of practice at it. It’s kind of embarrassing.

And I know that "everybody wants to be a cat," but, unfortunately, we can't all be!

1. Are you more like your cat or your dog? Why?

This is the Real World

This is the real world

where thunder reels the world.

The wild wind steals the world.

The huge sky fits the world.

The lightning splits the world.

The ocean tips the world.

The earthquake rips the world.

The mountains top the world

And wartime rocks the world.

But they can't burn the world

'cause God's hand turns the world.

And it won't end 'till he wants it to.

Even so...come, Lord Jesus, come.

As beautiful as earth can be,

the better world needs not the sun.

Only the Son.

Homesick Heidi

I cannot see the mountains

I've looked through every window:

rooftops block the horizon-

I can't shut my hope in, though.

It seems I want for nothing,

but something's eating up my soul;

Lock a free thing in a prison

and time will surely take its toll.

My feet wear shoes I don't need;

I walk on heartless cobblestone.

I've never seen so many people,

nor have I felt so alone.

I've looked for things I know about

but everything here's strange.

The swirling crowds are driven on-

I cannot bear this change.

Where is green rocky freedom?

And where the wild rains?

They stare like I'm a heathen,

but they're the ones in chains.

I ran to climb the tower,

but nothing of it came:

my mountains, they were nowhere.

The city looked the same.

Live colors fade from mem'ry

Saphire, gold, and indigo.

The mountains seem worlds away.

I can't shut my hope in though.