My Second Gift

Ten years ago today we were in a panic to start a quick unexpected move from Nicholasville, KY to Atlanta, Georgia.  Just a few weeks before we felt led by the Lord for Mike to finally submit his resume to a company in Atlanta.  They had been inquiring about his interest in a job with them for the past year, but we were just not interested in moving further south.  Then God suddenly and simultaneously changed our hearts on the matter.  It only took a few weeks for him to apply be interviewed and granted the job.  Suddenly I was uprooting my Pampered Chef business again and trying to find a home and a teaching job in the suburbs of Atlanta.

In the previous few months God has also been working on changing our hearts on another matter:  children.  Lainey had unexpectedly come along just a year into a our marriage.  I had worried before marriage that it would not be easy for me to have children, just as it had been for my mother.  God proved me wrong by blessing us with pregnancy just three months later.  We were surprised, but thrilled.  About six months after her birth we talked about trying to have another child.  Mike really wanted to have a boy since he is the only male Pfister in about four or five generations.  We had decided to let the number of children be up to God, so we were not exactly not trying anyway.  Unfortunately, that decision was tested when we could not seem to get pregnant.  After a couple of years we investigated using fertility treatments, but God woke us up when the McCaughey septuplets were born.  They were using the same treatment that our doctor had recommended.  We decided to be happy with one child.   Well, that is what we decided and said, but it was not what was in our hearts.  We both pined for another child.  It took four more years for God to truly convince us to let it be up to Him. 

In the spring of 2000 I finally gave it up.  To symbolize my surrender, I held a garage sale.  I sold everything, but a few mementos.  I made about $350.  I gave a few things away also.  I thought Mike was there with me, but it took him a few more months.  In the mean time we moved to Suwanee, Georgia a suburb of Atlanta.  Lainey was in first grade at a Christian school where I taught in the afternoons.  I also taught at a preschool three days a week in the mornings.  I had taken a sabbatical with Pampered Chef, but my time was almost up.  I was so busy that I could not bear the thought of adding one more thing, so we decided to not restart the business.  It was about that time that Mike told me of his struggle with our not being able to have more children.  God had been dealing with him on the issue and he had finally given it over in to the Lord's hands with his heart.


I have finally reached my point.  Just a few weeks later, while trying to get ready for work, I felt nauseous.  I remembered the feeling, but was sure that it could not be.  Oh, but it was.  The week of Thanksgiving we found out that we were to have a child.  We were astonished.  God had chosen to bless us again.  Moriah Elise Pfister arrived into our arms nine years ago today, July 29, 2001.  We could not imagine the joy she has brought into our lives. 

We chose to name her Moriah after my mother Mary and after the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.  It means the Lord is my teacher and the Lord is my provider.  We chose Elise because it is my sister's middle name and means dedicated to God.  A few years ago we discovered that according to the Hebrew calendar Moriah was born on the 9th of Av which is a very significant day.  Both the First Temple and the Second Temple were destroyed on that day (a few hundred years apart).  God planned this a bit of significance into her birth, because only He could do it, just like only He could bless us with her life. 

Happy 9th Birthday, Moriah!

The 4th

Growing up we had some traditions about the Fourth of July.  It always involved family or friends, lots of food and fireworks.  Usually we went to Rice Field to see the fireworks display followed by a long traffic jam to get home.  I guess most Americans have some sort of similar traditions. 

Since marriage we have moved so much that we have rarely seen a fireworks display at the same location on two consecutive years.  Even though we have now been in the same house in Alabama for five years, we have yet to watch the fireworks at the same location as any of the other five years.  Our first year we drove to Dublin Park in the City of Madison (Huntsville's "St. Paul") along with Mike's family who had come to visit.  In 2007, just the four of us, drove all the way (30+ miles) to Point Mallard in Decatur, AL.  The next year we decided to stay a little closer, so we attended the display at the Bridge Street shopping complex.  We ran into several friends there. 

Last year in 2009 we drove the farthest (to not see any fireworks at all).  We went on our first and only family vacation (that did not consist of only visiting relatives).  We spent the 1st and 2nd of July in our country's capital, Washington, D. C. and the 3rd and 4th touring Gettysburg, PA, in a search for the place where Mike's great great grandfather fought.  Because the 4th fell on a Saturday, and we and our hosts (who live in a suburb of Baltimore) wanted to attend church in the morning before we headed back to Alabama, we decided not to travel into Baltimore or D.C. for the fireworks.  Our host wisely informed us that because of the traffic we would probably not arrive home until three o'clock in the morning.  Part of me regrets not going, but I would probably make the same decision again.  We barely made it home that Sunday night as it was.  It was an exhausting trip.

This year we had to make a decision as to where to go.  With Lainey being gone on a mission trip to NYC, there were just the three of us.  On Friday I bought a rack of spare ribs for my first try at cooking them, but as of Sunday after lunch, we still had not made a decision as to where to go.  As I was preparing to get them in the oven, we got a call from friends to join them.  So we packed up around 5:00pm and headed to Scottsboro, AL.  We met our friends, three of their five daughters, and two other girls who were friends of the two older daughters (their youngest is a friend of Moriah's) at a place called Goose Pond Colony.   While the name sounds scary, the place was actually a very nice marina/recreational complex on a peninsula into Lake Guntersville, a huge lake created by the TVA on the Tennessee River.

We do not usually pay any attention to the musical acts at the venues we attend, unless they have a big band or choir presenting patriotic tunes.  Neither of us care for secular rock or country music acts.  My main concern is finding the best place to take photos.  This turned out to be at the top of a cement amphitheater in full view of the bands who were setting up.  I was concerned about this, so I made sure we were in the far corner and not in direct line with the speakers.  Mike and Moriah are very sensitive to really loud noises.  It all turned out very well though.  The first band played folk music which we enjoyed.  The second was far enough away that it did not assault our ears too much.  We could not understand most of what they said because of poor sound quality.  The best part was when the band (from England) played Sweet Home Alabama.  I never thought I would hear that song done with an English accent.

An interesting thing happened.  When we chose our location, there was no one at all on the far corner of the amphitheater, but soon after we set up our five camping chairs, two large coolers and two large blankets for the girls, a large group of immigrants showed up trying to crowd in the corner behind us.  Mind you there wasn't any room for chairs and there was little room to stand.  There was plenty of other open spaces in the stands and on the grassy areas around the area.  I did my best to not listen to their conversations, so as not to ease drop and soon left to take photos of the two youngest girls down by the shore.  While I was gone, Mike stayed to keep an eye on things.  With nothing else to do he overheard several rude comments being made in their language, but did not react to it.  As I was returning, I had to ask some of the group to allow me to pass.  I made sure to do so very politely, but in their language, using my best pronuciation (I have been mistaken for a native speaker in the past).  Moments after I returned, the group disappeared for the rest of the evening.  Moral of the story:  NEVER assume that those around you cannot understand what you are saying.  Our words should always be carefully considered in all situations.

Our location did prove to be an excellent location for taking photos.  The amphitheater faced west over the lake.  A large flotilla of pleasure boats congregated on the waters between us and the mountain range beyond the lake.  The sight was simply gorgeous.  A family sat in front of us that included a father who was among the very first marines deployed on 9/11.  He is currently a national asset forest fire fighter.  We expressed our appreciation for his service to our country.  I was able to included their family in some of my fireworks photos.  He is wearing the cowboy hat.

To wrap this up, we thoroughly enjoyed our evening, even the one and a half hour wait for the line of the cars to even start moving after the fireworks (the folk band played more music, so we just stayed and listened until the cars started moving).  We did not get home until after midnight, but it was worth the trip.  I do not know how much longer any of us will be celebrating our freedom, but I was grateful to do it one more time.

What I'm Learning

I'm kind of reeling at the moment.  I found out today about a marriage in severe trouble.  I've known for years that their marriage had some major problems, so I have often prayed for them, but not nearly as much as I should.  I have so admired how he has endured a bad marriage through thick and thin.  I guess I thought that his determination to maintain their marriage would be enough.  He did everything for his wife.  He sacrificed his wants, his needs, even his career for her.  He has lived their marriage like her servant treating her like a queen.  

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it?  We women are born wanting to be treated like a queen.  We want our men to worship at our feet, to meet our every need, to provide us with a decent home, keep us safe, meet our every emotional need, to do all this in a romantic manner and to do all of this while looking good.  Yet isn't this what Jesus has done for us, and promised to do for us.

A thought stuck me today as I pondered all of this.  Isn't that how we as a Church also treat God nowadays.  We expect to pray our little prayer of salvation, and then just rest in His arms, while He provides for our every want and desire.  While God wants to take care of us, I think He is getting tired of our selfishness.  We cannot expect to have a healthy relationship with God, if we don't give back to Him. We need to work at showing our love for Him also. 


I found something else out today that also disturbed me and opened my eyes in another way.  They don't talk to each other.  I knew he wasn't the type to really talk about things.  He doesn't like conflict.  He would rather ignore the elephant in the room than figure out how to remove it.  No wonder their marriage is failing, if they didn't talk to each other.  

I cannot expect to have a relationship with God, if I do not talk to Him, any more than I can have a relationship to my husband, if I do not talk to him.  In the same manner, my relationship with God or my husband will not thrive, if I do not listen.  I also have a husband who doesn't really like to talk, especially about thoughts and feelings, but I have learned that I, as his wife, need to draw him out and then really listen to him.  I fail miserably at this way too often.  We women (at least in my family) love to hear ourselves talk, but truly listening is another thing entirely.  That is also true with my relationship with God.  It is so much easier to talk to God in prayer than it is to listen to Him.  I am great at asking Him for things.  I am not so good at asking Him about things, and then listening to His answer.


I cannot do anything to save their marriage, except pray for them, but prayer is a powerful thing.  It is powerful in so many ways, yet the one way that we seem to ignore the most, is that it changes the person doing the praying.  God never changes, but when I pray and listen to Him, I get to know Him, and that changes me.  God is willing to tell me what He wants me to do, to tell me how to love Him back.  I have to listen.  The same is true with my marriage, with everyone's marriage.


I will pray for them.  I would love to talk to them also, if I get the opportunity.  For now though, I also hope this makes me more determined to work for my husband, to show my love for him in what I do for him, to draw him out in conversation, to really listen to him.  I also hope that this will help me to do the same for my Heavenly Husband.

Sloppy Spaghetti Casserole

8oz (1/2 of a 1 pound box) thin (or regular) spaghetti (I prefer Barilla brand)
3 Tbsp melted margarine (or butter, if you prefer)
1/2 cup grated Romano or Parmesan cheese (I prefer to grate my own Romano)
5 eggs (3 beaten for spaghetti crust and 2 for cornbread)
2 boxes Jiffy cornbread mix
2/3 cup milk (I used soy milk for Moriah)
2 Tbsp sugar
2 Tbsp canola oil
2 lbs ground round - browned and drained
2 - 15.5oz cans Manwich sauce (or 1 family size can)
    (or 1- 15.5 oz can Manwich
      1 regular can of Italian diced tomatoes
      1-6oz can tomato paste
      1/4-1/2 cup water (until it looks like sloppy joes)
      1-2 Tbsp more balsamic vinegar)
2-3 Tbsp of balsamic vinegar
2-3 cups frozen corn

Cook spaghetti according to package directions, drain and mix immediately with grated cheese, melted margarine, and three beaten eggs.  Press mixture into the bottom of a 9x13 ceramic or glass baking dish that has been sprayed with a cooking spray.  Mix ground round, Manwich, and balsamic vinegar in a large skillet or sauce pan until heated through lightly (not necessarily hot).  Meanwhile layer frozen corn on top of spaghetti crust.  Spread meat mixture on top of corn.  Mix cornbread mix, two remaining eggs, milk, sugar, and oil in a bowl (I do a quick mix with a wire whip).  Spread cornbread on top of meat mixture.  Bake uncovered for 45-60 minutes at 375 degrees Fahrenheit. 

This time it took 55 minutes in a stoneware baker, but I think my stove runs a little on the cool side.  It is definitely cooler than my mom's oven.  A standard brownie mix for a 9x13 pan calls for 28-30 minutes.  It takes exactly 30 minutes in my oven.  They burned royally in the same pan in 30 minutes in my Mom's oven.  Lainey learned the hard way that all ovens do not bake the same.

The family loved this the first time I made it.  It was a little different.  I used too much spaghetti (the whole box) and I forgot the eggs in the spaghetti crust, so it did not set up right.  (In my defense, I had not made a spaghetti crust in many years, since traditional spaghetti pie contains a lot of cheese.  Moriah cannot have cow's milk cheese because of her allergy - the Romano that I buy is made from sheep's milk.  This time I looked up the proportions in a recipe book from the church where I grew up.)  Also, I only had one can of Manwich, so I used one can of Italian diced tomatoes, one small can of tomato paste, some more balsamic vinegar and about a quarter to half cup of water instead of the second can of Manwich.  This time I decided to try two cans of Manwich instead of all that other stuff.  I still used the balsamic vinegar, because it adds a wonderful tangy flavor.  Either way it is delicious.  I think the diced tomatoes added something though.  By the way, I never actually measure the balsamic vinegar.  I just add until it seems right.  Sorry.  I also use the cheap WalMart brand (Great Value) aged balsamic vinegar.  It tastes good to me and is very affordable.

Feeling Better

Things have been either very busy or I just have not felt up to writing for a while.  I guess both are true. 

This past week Mike went on his first business trip in about ten years.  The last time he was away, it was to interview for a job in Atlanta in the summer of 2000.  I take that back.  He did spend two weeks working here in Huntsville before we were able to join him in July of 2005.  I guess that counts too.  I have to admit that I am grateful that he does not have a "traveling" job in general.  Many of my friends have husbands who must travel a great deal.  It is not fun being a "single" parent for anyone, so I have to admire those who must do it often. 

I came down with some sort of virus on Saturday before he left.  I assumed I would feel better after a couple of days, but that did not happen.  It was actually a good thing that we got "snowed in" on Monday and Tuesday.  I really did not feel well enough to venture out to take Lainey to all of her activities.  Finally on Wednesday I dropped the girls off with a dear friend whose children had to be at the same places and I went to the doctor.  He gave me two prescriptions and some samples.  Finally this afternoon I am feeling much better (Thank you, Z-Pack!).  Until now, it was all I could do just to get through school with the girls.  Mike is due home in a half an hour, so I guess it is good timing.  :-)

Tomorrow is going to be hectic.  I have to be at a missions program with the girls at 8:15am.  We will be working/attending until 2:00pm, only to then hightail it to Kid's Market to work for another three hours.  Kid's Market is a biannual consignment sale.  Lainey, Mike and I work 28 hours combined during the sale, so that Lainey and I can shop the worker's sale.  The full time workers get to shop first, so we get the best deals.  It has saved me hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars in the past four years on children's clothing enabling my children to actually have something decent to wear on most days.  Without it, I am not sure how I could have clothed them at all.  I guarantee those hundreds (or thousands) of dollars were not available for my use.  All I can say about tomorrow is, it is a good thing that I am feeling better.

I have been wanting to post a new recipe on here since I made it up a few weeks ago, but every time I have thought of it, I have just not had the energy to do it.  I am going to make the recipe again for supper to try to perfect it.  If it works, I hope to post it.  We are calling it Sloppy Spaghetti Casserole.  I might even take a photo.  For now though, I have to brown some ground round.  :-)

Tornado

A tornado threaded the needle between us and downtown Huntsville about an hour ago.  We are fine.  I knew there was a tornado watch out, so I had been monitoring the weather radar during the afternoon, but I had decided that the threat was over around 4:00pm.  Then the weather radio started blaring, and the tornado siren went off.  I high tailed it down the hall to the radio and flipped the TV station to watch Dan Satterfield on channel 19, but the channel was black.  I then switched to the Weather Channel and saw words on the bottom of the screen that indicated that it really might be headed our way.  I yelled to the girls to get in the bathroom.  After running to the windows to see if there really seemed to be an imminent threat (all the clouds were in the distance and the sun was perfectly visible here), I then tried channel 19 again to find that it was indeed back on the air.  I then saw an incredible sight:  A tornado hanging above Huntsville, live on the Saturn V Rocket Cam.  It looked white compared to the black clouds behind it.  Those black clouds proved to be between our house and the tornado.  Since I had determined from Dan's excellent coverage that we were not going to be hit by this storm, I then called the girls in to watch the spectacle.  As of now the news is reporting that it might have been an F1 or F2.  Damage reports are coming in, but there are no reports of serious injury at this time.  A January tornado on live TV, wow!  I hope and pray that no one has been hurt.

Bible College

It is Monday night and I am in my usual place:  Whitesburg Heritage Bible College.  Lainey is taking classes toward a Biblical Studies Certificate.  Since she does not have her license that means she has to take the mommy taxi.  For that reason I am here for three hours every week of the school year. 

It can be a lot of fun.  We took Greek together last year for one of the classes.  Having taken it in college many years ago, I was surprised at how much I had forgotton. 

On some nights I work in the office to help out the dean and his wife the registrar.  She has to be gone a lot because their youngest daughter is under treatment for leukemia.  I sit in the office when she is not here, to try to help out the students with books and payments.  I'm not much use for other questions, but I do know how to leave notes for Ginger to answer when she returns.

Other nights I have been known to bring along school work to catch up on.  I write lesson plans, grade papers, etc, if I can find a quiet place.  I have even been know to cram in some last minute work for Tuesday morning ladies Bible studies. 

When either of the above options fail me, I might run errands to the store, loiter around the office talking Ginger's head off (or someone else), or just hang out in the computer lab.  The store thing can be tricky.  One night I couldn't make it back because of a flat tire.  Some dear friends saved me on that one.

Tonight I have spent time having long conversations with at least three friends.  We have discussed computer and cell phone issues, missions, the state of churches in the US, and our children's musical instruments.  Now that Lainey's classes are almost done, I am finally down to wasting time in the computer lab writing this blog. 

Have I bored you yet?  I hope to one day have more inspiration, but for now, this is what you will get.  I can wax somewhat elequent when I am well rested and feel up to great heights.  Lately, though, between my back problems, acid reflux, asthma, and busy schedule, I just haven't been getting enough sleep.  On top of that I think that my insulin/sugar issues may be getting worse, though my blood test do not indicate an issue.  Some days I am doing well if we can just get through school.  It was a real struggle today.  All I felt like doing all day was finding a nice cozy dark quiet spot to sleep.  Somehow we got all the lessons done, but mommy was more the problem than the help, I'm thinking.  It is funny that we often do better at school when we are not at home.  I think the adrenaline of being "out" helps me to function better.  Maybe...

Time to go!  Class is over.