Exciting news here, my transfer from a WordPress blog to my newly created site is just about complete. A few things to still add, but functional to welcome in the new year. Please go to www.christasterken.com to visit me there.
Make sure to bookmark the new location as I won’t be working out of this spot any longer. Thanks for being interested readers, interactive readers…enough sothat I am encouraged to push on even further in this writing adventure.
See you on the new site…
Here they are. Homemade cinnamon rolls. Don’t they look easy and delicious?
I printed off the recipe from Allrecipes.com , click the link if you’d like to try them. I started just after 10 am, and finished just around 10 pm. They are delectable, and really easy. Just follow my instructions of what not to do:
– Don’t start cinnamon rolls and get all the way to putting in the filling, and then realize you are out of cinnamon. It isn’t the same substituting every other fall spice you own. Trust me on this.
– Don’t accidentally push the dough setting on the bread machine AND the bake setting, thereby having to dump the whole thing after it is in the machine for 4 hours.
-And above all, don’t put yourself in a position of having to go to Walmart on a snowy Saturday afternoon during the holiday season to get more cinnamon because you are too stubborn to let these rolls beat you.
Try the recipe, correctly. It is worth it!
“I’m down with the MB, showing off my PT…”
As in Meyers Briggs Personality Traits, um, what were you thinking? Geez.
According to http://www.personality-power-for-everyday-living.com/INFP.html INFPs ( typically display the following characteristics:
Are they saying we INFPs are classless as in class-less? Or non classy? Unassigning class? 🙂 Whichever, this looks pretty good.
Oohhh, under stress we also are known for :
My favorite summary was on Personality Page. Bizarrely accurate. Made sense why we make each other nuts when we don’t understand the core of who someone is created to be.
Curious about your character traits that might describe you? Check out Personality Pathways.com for a free inventory. There seem to be 16 combinations, and it was fun to see how close the results were.
I was relieved to find out that INFPs make good writers. At least I am not passionate about the wrong field!
What is your opinion about these tests, take a quiz and come back here to share the results.
The sweet stress of procrastination. Mmm. Does it make you feel warm and peaceful inside?
No?
Okay, I admit that might be a stretch. But is it all bad? Putting off until tomorrow what can be done today?
This is my first adult memory of biting off more than I could chew creatively. With zero cross stitch experience, I confidently purchased this counted kit to make for my husband. Oh, not just zero experience in that, but mostly zero in all handiwork arts.
I made it through all of one row or so. Then, like any self-respecting quitter would do, I called Grandma. And passed it on. Then, she passed it on, until eventually my aunt saved Christ-a-mas.
The years have passed and I have become proficient at taking on countless more projects that I have zero experience in. Only now, I don’t quit. I may never finish, but I am okay with that. Process is a pleasing, albiet sometimes frustrating, place to sit.
Why you ask? (I asked myself the same question)
I love to learn, to experience, to create. I am not afraid, generally, of trying new things. I also am not afraid of dumping what doesn’t fulfill me. I used to wonder if that made me quitter supreme. In some instances, yes.
Mostly? No. It makes me creative, delightfully so.
That procrastination often drives me nuts, but only me. I don’t leave others hanging. I don’t promise things and not deliver to commitments. For my eyes only though, procrastination abounds. And I am learning to look at the positives.
My kind of delay involves careful thought, consideration of many angles, all potential possibilities. I am a deep thinker and that can take a while. Putting off until tomorrow… if the creativity isn’t ready to display itself, then tomorrow it is.
I’ll be frank, sometimes this can be frustrating, the inability to focus and produce. I seldom have one thing going, in any area. 7 books reading at the same time. 4 projects all clamoring for space and attention. You get the picture. But…
When it comes? It will be worth the wait. I know this now, and I appreciate the surprise my own deferment can bring.
How does your brain flow?
Not all of the details of life are pretty.
Certainly we know people whose lives fray with messy edges. Sometimes, we are those people. (Tweet that)
With time and perspective we notice things that we were unaware of at the time. Details are impossible to see all at once.
I know that sometimes I want to cut out the stuff that isn’t pretty, flattering, or seemingly useful. But I risk cutting out things that make up a vivid life upon closer inspection.
I’ll share an example: I came across this photo from a long ago family Christmas. Just an average snapshot of life for a regular family.
Certainly life was not all rosy for them.
And yet…yet, there is so much beauty that was certainly missed the first time this picture was viewed.
This picture hides many layers that seem to make an average shot, but there is more…
-I notice my grandma’s beauty. Shes about my current age here, all festive in red
-I see my aunt Kathy, only 11 years older than me. Just my daughter’s current age and I wonder how that could be! I remember how much care she gave to me as a child. Responsibility for me
-My grandparent’s three-legged Siamese cat Sammy lounges under the table, and I recall how I would rub that silky fur
-The tree in the corner, placed on a tiered stand my carpenter grandpa built
-Shiny little girl hair, once mine crowns a happy child’s head
-A high chair in the back would have held my younger cousins. I smile as I remember our antics and adventures
-Grandpa leans back in his chair, always the same chair…head of the table. In his everyday white t-shirt. He loved to watch the festivities on holidays
–Unseen? I know the layout of this house, though I haven’t seen it in a few decades. I see the black doorknobs and remember how the paint gathered near the old locks. The craftsman style built-in behind Grandpa. There was a pantry behind that wall. I remember the feel of the huge vent on the floor just to the left out of sight. How I would stand over it and watch it blow my clothing with delight. Behind us there would be a coffee table with delights only out at Christmas. A bowl of nuts, walnuts were my favorite. Ribbon candy.
There is so much unseen. An average home, a regular family. All playing parts in the fabric of my family tapestry.
There were frayed threads. Ugly spills.
Oh, but the final product. What beauty, what texture!
Don’t crop out the small things. They are building upon each other to capture something that isn’t finished yet.
Share this article with a friend. Let’s look closer, together.
My final guest Advent post by my friend, Pilar Arsenec. Merry Christmas
Dancing with Angels
Now that the Christmas season is upon us, I begin to reflect upon what it means to me.
Christmas has held different meanings through various stages of my life. As I’m getting older and have young children of my own, it holds yet another meaning.
I think my perspective began to change while I was pregnant with my first son. I remember going through old photos from my childhood and mourning the days of old.
The days when I would hear my maternal grandmother singing along to her favorite Christmas songs. All the while working diligently to prepare for her guests arrival.
Everything my grandmother did had a touch of class. She was a great hostess and an amazing chef. Read the rest of this entry
The first step in blogging is not writing them but reading them. — Jeff Jarvis
I am sucker for old things, retro items that made it through decades in one piece despite their fragility.
I love to wonder who used them. What the story is behind them. Of course, the story.
Chatting with my daughter today, I remarked it was odd a radio announcer was listing off things about the early 1970’s as if that was “that” old.
She looked at me, in the way that only a 17 year can muster, “Mom, that was like FORTY years ago.”
And….?
These ornaments remind me of a parallel. To my daughter I am becoming somewhat of a faded cardboard box. Sure, there are beautiful shiny things inside. But, they are still housed in something somewhat old.
The irony is that like these bulbs the memories become brighter, the story more interesting as the box ages. I am becoming retro. Imagine when I become vintage! Thankfully retro is the new hip. I wonder if my teens know that?
Mom, the cutting edge of modern…
James Prescott got me thinking about encouragement today.
This summer I participated in a life changing class by Brave Girls. It was about restoration to the deepest parts of ourselves through art mediums. Something became starkly apparent to me whilst dirtying my hands with paints and adhesives.
To realize that you believe this about yourself is quite a shock. I was sure I thought I was indeed good enough, well, almost. Certainly working on it.
And why? I had to ask myself that. You don’t discover something this profound and just shove it away. Unless, you want to stay with this rotting sentiment. It is an ugly place to be. A difficult place to hide. Are you familiar with it?
Sometimes as adults, we have to come to terms with the fact that encouragement doesn’t always come from the places we hope for. People let us down, or worse, tear us down. (You can tweet that here) Not an easy place to climb up from. And the ironic thing is that we don’t even know that we are mired down with this weight.
I worked and painfully dug my way out. The first step starts with understanding what you believe. It wasn’t that my life lacked fulfillment or joy. Far from it. There was one space however, that mucky recess where I kept my secret shames. The cavern of self-hatred.
Sounds harsh. I almost didn’t write it. Maybe then it wouldn’t be true.
Part of me, and I am guessing part of you, knows this place. The part of us that didn’t receive the encouragement we needed, longed for. I have been climbing out into the light of Christ for years. He tenderly wipes off the ooze of self contempt. I wanted to be perfect and fell painfully short. My eyes have become clear.
Encouragement comes from unforseen places. Here is mine for you… don’t hold out for the words you desire from one particular source.
We are worth so much more than the value the world assigns to us. So much more.
I am surrounded by people who love me, who root for me, who believe in me powerfully. And that love has taken me so far, soothed me in my hurt. Sheltered me from life’s storms.
You can’t fix people, but keep giving the words anyway. Don’t give up because YOUR words, MY words have power. They might be just the impetus for someone almost there to keep on. The tongue of the wise brings healing (Prov. 12:18)
Today I know who I am, and if I am not good enough? That is okay by me. In fact, I’ll just set this out for the world now. I am not good enough, but I am loved by the only one who is.
I don’t need to be perfect. I won’t meet everyone’s needs. People will hurt me, and unintentionally I might hurt others. Life will be full of joy and disappointment. It is all part of the journey. Without encouragement of others, I might not be sharing this with you. It is a risky thing to put things like this out in public. Risky.
But I ask you, what is the point of learning on the journey if not to reach out and encourage someone else? I have no shame in my learning process, neither should you.
I am here to share my words with you. I pray they will encourage you today.
You are enough. Not good enough, but just enough. (Tweet that)
Why do you think people are resistant to sharing the less than pretty parts of life?
Please share this, join in the movement to encourage.
Christa Sterken 