Not quite an ode to the crock pot

Jackson is doing so much better. He never ran a fever yesterday and he was able to go in the church nursery this morning. PTL! I had been a little concerned since I already missed church last week. I really needed to be there to get to know our new college students. We are 15 minutes down the road from a Christian college and because of that we have the great blessing of getting to serve a small crowd of amazing young adults. This morning as they made their way to the altar and prayed for whatever was on their hearts, I was so overwhelmed at the privilege of getting to see them grow into adults and journey toward their dreams and goals. It can a time of struggle and testing - I know they wrestle with God when the desires of their hearts are nowhere in sight. When His voice is silent. When their spirits are willing but their flesh is weak. But He never fails to show His faithfulness and open doors in His time. It's a sacred thing to, over time, see Him work in their lives.

Well, I have finally done something that I should have done long ago. I'll start with a little confession. Hold onto your seats - it may shock you. Along the way, I've fought the process of becoming domestic. I know you're just stunned. I know that the root of this is sin, namely prideful vanity. But I have just dreaded and avoided certain tools, symbols if you will, of domesticity. For one, the crock pot. I'm not exactly sure where my negative association with the crock pot came from. The thought of having a crock pot has always conjured this strange feeling in me. It is the same feeling I get at Hobby Lobby sometimes. But I really do like Hobby Lobby, so I can't exactly explain it. All I know is that my whole life I have resisted the next stage of womanhood. I used to pray to God that I'd never have to wear a bra, I hated carrying purses, and I never longed for the day I'd be a mother. What is that? I suppose the tomboy in me who was the victim of a nursing bra for a year, who now carries a huge purse, who is now (happily) a mother, just didn't want a crock pot. It was too much to ask. I'm grinning as I write this because it is so ridiculous!

On Friday night we went to the splendiferous Super Target a couple towns away and I bought my first crock pot. It was as momentous as buying my first non-sports-bra or my first non-mini-backpack purse. By the way, it's red. If I was going to buy one, I could at least choose a cute one, right? My great-grandmother used to say "Marriage is a long time. You wells to marry a cute one as a ugly one." See, I tune my ear to the wisdom of my elders.

I know there are a million places I can go to look for crock pot recipes, but I have always preferred recipes from people I know. Not only does it give me someone to talk to when things go right or wrong, but it's like I'm sitting down to dinner with them when I make their food. (Thank you, Uncle Wayne, Nancy, and Faylinn!) So do you have a wonderful crock pot recipe that you would care to share? Janelle and I are turning over a new leaf in the area of cooking - God bless us - and we would covet your tried and true recipes. Janelle, do you even have a crock pot yet? Do you need me to counsel you about it? Sister, come just as you are. Hear the spirit's call. Walk down the aisle - aisle 13. Small appliances are waiting for you with open arms.