Laughing, Loving and Learning at the Table: A Recipe for Hospitality

 

Hugging, softening, measuring, mixing, talking, baking, laughing, eating, sharing, then hugging again. On a Tuesday in November, a group of lively cousins in rural Clinton, South Carolina (home to most of the King women), make a space for butter, sugar, flour, eggs, flavoring, nuts, fruit, and a little bit of Jack Daniels to become a family fruitcake and share an unforgettable day at the table.

 

After their parents had passed away, King first cousins (Sheila, Linda, Maria, Beth, Sylvia, and Martha)  who are more like sisters wanted another reason to get together and laugh, so they picked a holiday tradition using their aunt Ann's fruitcake recipe. They met at Linda's in Clinton for hours of softening butter  and mixing batter by hand while laughing and retelling family memories.  The King cousins have a system and successfully bake dozens of fruitcakes to keep and to share.

A few years ago when our mom, Sheila, couldn't drive, Susi, my sister, drove her to Clinton for the baking, and they welcome anyone with a sense of humor. One group of loud and zany, an inherited King trait, women apparently wasn't enough, so they decided to share the fruitcake tradition with their daughters.  Nothing stands in our way. We request a day off from work and join the organized chaos.
 

We spent a few years watching, mixing, and learning, not only about baking fruitcakes but also about the King first cousins' younger days in Clinton. While learning that aunt Ann and Mamma King wouldn't approve of an electric mixer, Susi, Susan, Harriett, Hope, and I also learn about King holidays, family "disagreements," and other stories our grandparents didn't bother sharing (for good reason).  
 

The King first cousins slowly transitioned from workers to supervisors, interrupting a story about one of Mamma King's eleven children to remind us to mix the soda in water or flavoring first.  A few minutes later, an explanation of how someone might possibly be related by marriage is on hold for a toothpick check of the first recipe. We hear about the King traits they see in their grandchildren while Maria checks the time for the 1st recipe.  Maybe because Susan lost an earring in the mixture one year, I don't know, but they supervised a few more years until we gained their confidence.   

 

In 2013, the first cousins abandoned their supervisor positions and went straight to sitting and story -telling.  Give Maria credit, though.  She buys and separates the fruit.  Now at Harriett's house, the daughters, along with a wife of a first cousin, make the coffee, add the eggs, mix the fruit with the flour, write down when recipes 1,2, 3,..etc. enter the oven, take the cakes out, and wrap them in wax paper and foil without one minute of supervision.  We have conversations about work, family, movies, and books while the King first cousins discuss who they dated 50 years ago, what another cousin is doing now, or who is the oldest, which actually required paper, pencil and MATH.  I'm not kidding.

It's a King "women only" day of loud laughter. We make an exception for Steven, Linda's son, to bring the chicken salad from Whiteford's family restaurant and take a group picture. And of course, Al, Maria's husband, is required to show up for my annual motorcycle ride. But, that's it.  We need to return to our  "you won't believe this" and "have you heard about?" chatter and obviously decide who is the craziest King.  That's a tough one.     

We look forward to and are grateful for fruitcake day every year.  However, it's actually not about the fruitcakes.  If it was, the festivities would end after lunch. Time is not important. We don't hurry.  Perfection nor productivity matter.  It's all good.  As delicious as the lunch (chicken salad sandwiches and Harriett's chicken potato soup) always is, and as fun and thoughtful as the first Christmas gifts of the year are, we gather for a bigger reason.

 

We ought therefore to show hospitality to such people so that we may work together for the truth. 3 John 1:8

In her book, Bread & Wine: A Love Letter to Life Around the Table, with Recipes, Shauna Niequest describes our fruitcake day perfectly, “The heart of hospitality is about creating space for someone to feel seen and heard and loved. It's about declaring your table a safe zone, a place of warmth and nourishment.”  “So this is the dance, it seems to me: to be the kind of host who honors the needs of the people who gather around his or her table, and to be the kind of guest who comes to the table to learn, not to demand.”

At a recent an Allume conference (www.allume.com), I was lucky enough to hear Shauna speak further about hospitality.  "It's giving people a place to be when they'd rather be alone, creating sacred space to allow for His presence, and creating an experience where people leave feeling better about themselves."

Our table is a counter where we mix and talk, a stove where we bake and laugh, and a room where we eat, listen, share, and learn.  We learn of family, especially each other. We might jokingly boss each other around, but we feel safe and leave nourished.  More than an old recipe, our  November fruitcake day is about feeling better about ourselves and being loved by women with the same great grandparents, the same history, and the same zaniness.



Martha, Jenna & Katy
working on a Thanksgiving table decoration

The hospitality of our grandparents continues in our hearts, and we'll share it with a new group of King cousins and their daughters, starting with Jenna, who suggested to her mom, "get me out of school next year for fruitcake day."

May your Thanksgiving table be a place to be heard. May you learn and love,

Katy

 

 

 

 

 

Meet The Moorites



Cindy, Julia, Connie, Monica
Kelly, LuCindy, Mary, Sarah

Remember learning (or sleeping through the verses) about the Levites, Moabites, Ammonites.,etc: the people from the land or tribe of Levi, Moab, Amman, etc? Except for the Levites, I neither recall nor plan to learn their significance. I have my own tribe to write about.  Let me introduce you to my dear friends, The Moorites.

After years of making ourselves comfortable studying the Bible with Beth Moore, Sarah decided we deserved a fitting name for our morning tribe of studiers.  We don't worship Beth, but we're drawn to her tireless research, humor, big Texas personality, ideas, stories, and her passion, for women and most importantly Jesus the One and Only.

After buying the books but never attending a session or actually opening a book, I made my first attempt at Breaking Free and Making Liberty in Christ a Reality on a Tuesday in September of 2001. Twenty minutes into the session, we were interrupted by our church's secretary and advised to watch the news.  As the twin towers fell, we spent the session on our knees.  I'll always remember that day not only as the end of what I thought I knew about scripture and my distorted view of God, but also the beginning of my longing for clarity and understanding and need for a special bond found only with the Moorites.

15 years of study
and so much more to learn

Unfortunately, instead of breaking free from strongholds, I made certain every blank was filled even if it meant sitting in my car in the church parking lot and writing SOMETHING/ANYTHING to impress my fellow Moorites.  That stronghold slowly faded after the fall of 2002. American troops moved in and out of Middle Eastern caves as we witnessed David and Saul doing the same, and Beth challenged us to Seek a Heart Like His. Either no one informed me of or I wasn't listening to, the most likely scenario, the fact that the very same giant slayer, shepherd, psalmist, and king was an adulterer, liar, and murderer for a season of his intriguing life. How can that be? David's sorrows, praises, and honest quest for God's heart was life changing. 



My tabernacle
please be impressed

More than once, we joined fellow stiff necked dysfunctional descendants of The Patriarchs and traveled through the desert, longed for our old idols, and complained about our boring manna while memorizing and drawing the tabernacle to discover A Woman's Heart certainly is God Dwelling Place. Wait, you mean He doesn't dwell in the steeple?

We followed the life and ministry of John, the Beloved Disciple and through Paul's pen realized To Live is Christ.  We enjoyed Exploring the Fruit of the Spirit three times. When Beth titled this study Living Beyond Yourself, she wasn't kidding. Why three times? Life's seasons change, and since we're not getting any younger, we Moorites might need a fresh pick of self-control and patience. Moorite Cindy says, "maybe the fourth time is the charm."  

We considered other writers; in fact, we've set Beth aside twice.  However, we're Moorites glued to a lady who let Esther teach us, and we agreed wholeheartedly, It's Tough Being a Woman, so even though Beth LOOKS SO YOUNG, we need an old friend, a friend who would understand when we didn't finish our homework or honestly admit, "I didn't like this day."

The Moorite families have grown up with the Moore family.  God's Word hasn't changed, but we have. The Moorites have new sons and daughters-in-law and new grand and great grandchildren, empty nests and college tuition payments, different ministers and church families, and a new set of ailments and co-workers.  Along with Beth, the Moorites have new stories, heartbreaks, and challenges, which means we have more areas for James to assure us Mercy still Triumphs.

If we don't repeat a Beth Moore study, we miss relating to her as a friend, wife, mother, sister, grandmother and of course, dog lover. One of the most valuable lessons we learned as Moorites is that God, through His Word, reveals something new to us with every new Beth hairstyle and jacket.  It's not unusual for a Moorite to say, "I've never seen this before." "Has this always been in the Bible?" "Listen to what this version says."

Mary & Sarah

Another reason to repeat? We are not nor ever will be experts. You can't expect us to remember everything we learn, except for our wonderful Mary, the earliest Moorite to arrive so we'll have fresh coffee while Experiencing a Fresh Explosion of Faith. Not only does she love and pray for us, Mary remembers all 5 statements of faith from Believing God.  1. God is who He says He is.  2. God can do what He says He can do. 3. I am who God says I am. 4. I can do all things through Christ.  5. God's word is alive and active in me. Being completely impressed and speechless, we quickly forgave her for refusing to redraw AGAIN the tabernacle for homework.



Chrissy

Since 2001, several Moorites have moved away or can no longer join the morning studiers, but other Moorites join with different childhood experiences, marriages, traditions, and wisdom ("Mamma summed up this verse like this..."), so a repeat becomes a brand new study.  A few years ago while home visiting family, Chrissy, a missionary presently serving in Romania, offered input from an entirely different world.

"As iron sharpens iron, so a friend sharpens a friend." Proverbs 27:17

The Believer's Bible Commentary states, "the interchange of ideas among people (Moorites) makes them more acute (and aren't we cute?) in their thinking. Sharing each other's opinions gives a helpful breadth of view.  Asking questions sharpens wits.  Friendly intercommunication hones the personality." Not that we need any more wits or personality. Julia, our appointed leader no matter what she says, does her best to reign us in and stay on topic. "I'll lead as long as LuCindy," her daughter, "operates the DVD."

"When we get together, I want to encourage you in your faith, but I also want to be encouraged by yours." Romans 1:12

As much as we like to dig deep, we know Godly People Do Ungodly Things. We need Moorite advice, laughter, and encouragement to live Lives of Integrity like Daniel.  We communicate and make sure we're Stepping Up and finding and sharing new meaning from a favorite Psalm as we pray for family, friends, and each other. 

I didn't know what Children of the Day meant, but through 1 & 2 Thessalonians, we recently discovered we're to live in the light, be clearheaded and protected by the armor of faith, wearing as our helmet the confidence of our salvation. For me, this would be impossible without my fellow Moorites. 

One of our last questions from Children of the Day was What are some of the things going through your head on this final day? Some sadness and loneliness.

 "there's something about staying the course and together pouring over every word of a book of the Bible for weeks that demands a different discipline and forms a unique bond. I will miss it so much."- Beth Moore.

But also gratitude, for Concord Baptist Church where we meet, and each other and the ability to communicate and continue to pray for each other, and excitement for the next Beth Moore repeat study.

These Moorites are my comfort and strength, and I cannot wait to restudy and gain something new from what we've already learned AGAIN,

Katy

 

Trickery

Where are them candy sticks? "Timmy, you better not of got you some of my candy sticks without me approvin' cause them Halloween beggars will be here tomorrow night wantin' a treat."

Beggin' at Grandma's

Last year, they turned over my favorite flower pot and took three jars of pickles from my back porch cause I didn't have no treat to give.  Three Halloweens ago, them tricksters painted all sorts of red and black stripes on Lucy, my best friend Molly's pig. Them tricksters is serious about this silliness. And I know for a fact from preacher Massey's cousin's wife who lives next door to that Grant clan who are covered with the devil's spots  that them heathern Scottish people brung this nonsense to this Christian nation. They called it guising on account of them being disguised, and it's just a pretty darn shame they couldn't leave that blessed beggin' custom over there with their own heathern kinfolk.  

I got flour and sugar. "Timmy, walk down to Molly's farm and fetch mama six eggs, will ya?"

I'll bake a cake for them beggars even though I'm mighty tired from this here sickness, from which the good Lord is takin' his sweet time in healin' me.  

Becca & Hope

Back to tomorrow's beggar's night.  I could tell you a few things you wouldn't believe like two years ago what commenced at Doc Robinson's place. When he was out deliverin' Helen's twins on Halloween night, some tricksters set fire to his office.  Lord help us all for your people have done gone mad and headed straight to the devil.  Smashing pumpkins, turning over wagons, and rearranging the scarecrows is right annoyin', yes, and not real Christian-like, but settin' fire to the good doctor's business is taking things a bit too far. 

It ain't right to gossip, but I'm goin' to tell you all about Molly and then of course what I done for her, bless her heart, when them beggars painted Lucy. This was back when I was kinda healthy and could walk two miles, so me and Timmy walked all the way to her farm with the good book, cause Lord knows Molly and Chester don't got one.  While Timmy was awashing up Lucy, I give Molly a lesson on doin' proper things for the good Lord if she wanted a bundle of easier life.  And by a bundle of easier, I mean Chester comin' home sober every night.  The verses I used come straight outta the book the good Lord used, the King James, the English King James, naturally.

It tickles me to death to tell y'all that all cause of me, Molly comes to church every Sunday, although I wished she'd dress a little more godly. And Chester has quit his drinkin' and carousin' all but Saturday night.  I told Molly to make sure that sorry ole Chester picks up some sweets for them silly tricksters every year cause Lord knows these tired legs can't walk no two miles no more. And Franklin, my husband who isn't the president even though our house is white but pitiful small and he ain't nearly as smart, done gone and sold our car and won't tell me why.
He had to ride a train home after he drove up to Chicago and sold it.I didn't kick him out because I'm a Christian woman.

Tricksters cousins Luke,
Hope, & Justin Glymph

Back to my special sickess which is more important than Molly and her no-count husband.  I don't know what I done to deserve this.  The onliest thing I can consider is that I ain't always real sweet to Franklin.  But, he ain't always real lovin' and sweet to me neither.  "An eye for an eye," and if he expects a treat of a sweet, lovin' wife, he best be a bit nicer husband. I'm guessin' that's why the good Lord give me this here sickness.  I been remindin' him of all my good deeds and been doin' more and more of them good deeds, too. 

I bet my house, don't tell Franklin, that the good Lord will heal me real soon on account of how I been gettin' His attention with my prayin'. If the good Lord wants me to keep on servin' Him and doin' all those good deeds like takin' soup to Mr. Owen after he went and catched a cold from fishin' and giving the widow Lewis grocery money cause her no count son won't, He'll heal me from my sickness.  I'll be a prayin' that same prayer til He hurries up and heals me.  If he don't heal his good servant, Mae, let's see who he gets to cook Sunday dinner for preacher Massey and those eight misbehaving youngins and that sickly wife of his. And what a treat my healin' will be for all the good folks in town I help. I just know the good Lord wants treats from me, and He sure knows what kindly tricks I'm pretty darn capable of doin'.

Tricksters Hope, Luke, Grace
& Daddy Luke

Unlike Mae, I'm glad Trick or Treating made its way to the United States; in fact, I miss sending my goblins out for Hershey and Snickers candy bars, treats that somehow disappeared from their bags by morning.  

Too bad I haven't always reserved Trick or Treating for Halloween night. I've Trick or Treated with God and prayed like Mae, with better grammar, of course. If He'll answer with a "yes," I'll definitely serve and pray more.  If He doesn't give me my desires, I may decide to disobey or threaten to stop serving or believing.  I've actually asked God to prove His love by making something good happen, like perhaps giving me a treat. I do like treats, and I'll admit I've actually expected a few from God. 

^"Remember that the Lord will give you an inheritance as your reward, and that the Master you are serving is Christ.^"Colossians 3:24

What is this inheritance? Maybe attention, financial gain, or good health.  What about happiness and an easy life?  That sounds fair enough.  Those earthly rewards are what I deserve, right?

"And it is impossible to please God without faith. Anyone who wants to come to him must believe that God exists and that he rewards those who sincerely seek him." Hebrews 11:6

You know what's mysterious about serving God? God rewards us when we sincerely, diligently, earnestly, honestly, genuinely seek him.  And what happens when we seek him with all of our hearts? Rewards, treats, are no longer a concern. Our prayers are no longer "if you don't give me...." or "if you give me....." No more bargaining. Even when we don't feel rewarded by the world's standards, and sometimes feel tricked, our inheritance is a treat the world cannot give. It's an abundant, fully sufficient and satisfying, life.

I don't need to Trick or Treat with God.  An abundant life, with an occasional Snicker's bar, is treat enough.

Katy

Fear and Demons

The Scratching Monster

My first demon, the Scratching Monster, appeared at my Grandmother Brown's window screen when my sister, Susi, and I spent the night.  The Scratching Monster didn't appreciate two little girls, ages four and five, sleeping in his room while he slept on the sofa. Decades before post traumatic stress disorder showed up in a psychological journal, my grandparents went along with it, laughed, and nodded when our fourteen year old Uncle Jimmy asked, "Did you girls hear the scratching monster last night?" Identifying him as the Scratching Monster made it slightly less scary, but when he scratched again, we were frightened.

Another childhood demon was our National "Guardian" daddy walking into our dark bedroom wearing a gas mask. Although mom stood next to him laughing, we were terrified.  Then there was the completely inept babysitter who gathered me, Susi, and our four cousins into the den until our parents returned because "someone was in the kitchen." No one was in the kitchen, so needless to say, she never babysat for us again.

Something sinister at the Anderson County Fair haunted house snatched my plastic headband right off my head, so other than Disney's humorous Haunted Mansion, I never visited another haunted house until my senior year of high school.  Persuaded by my church youth group, I walked through the Anderson Mall haunted house but couldn't tell you what it was like since I was led through it, eyes closed, squeezing tightly the arms of friends.

Due West, S.C.

Main Street, Due West, S.C.

And since I don't learn lessons easily, my childhood best friend, Allyson, and I sat through the first hour of Friday the 13th with our eyes closed before running out of the theater.  And months later, at the end of Halloween, my date vowed to never take me to another scary movie.  That's ok, I didn't need him.  I saw Halloween II with college friends. A few nights later, I walked from the Erskine library back to my dorm in the middle of the street.  Due West, with its old homes and tree lined sidewalks, looked eerily like the fictional Haddonfield. 

Obviously, I'm easily frightened, so I married a horror movie buff who thought it would be funny to play the Halloween movie theme on our piano at night or on the church organ in the dark chapel when I went back to look for my bible one Sunday night. Now that I'm a tough grown up, though, I don't mind an occasional scary movie on the sofa with my eyes closed.

Also as a tough grown up, I'm not afraid to be alone at night, except for the time the scratching monster tried to open my dining room window screen. I knew my Uncle Jimmy wasn't in town, and my vicious Labrador Hershey was absolutely no help, so I called 911 with the house phone. With my cell phone, I called Clay, my neighbor who probably regrets giving me his number after shining his flashlight under a tree. "Is that what you heard?"  My new scratching monster was a cat.    

As a child, I was afraid of cemeteries and mortuaries and had to sleep with my mom after a scary movie.  "Katy, it isn't the people under the ground or the monsters in the movies you should be afraid of.  It's the live ones." How true, Mom, how true.  

It is a few of the live ones we need to fear, especially the live one in the mirror. One of my favorite songs is "Demons" by Imagine Dragons. They sing, "look into my eyes, it's where my demons hide."

We don't see many people possessed by evil spirits today.  We now refer to demons as life's fears not caused by haunted houses or the scratching monster. They're caused by us and live inside. Why did or didn't I do that? What will happen and how will I live with it? Why did this sin happen again and why can't I forget? What kind of parent am I and what will happen to my children? How do I solve problems I've created?

Other demons, more frightening and dangerous than the ones on television or the scratching monster, are often handed to us at a young age from people we love and trust, intentionally or unintentionally.  These insecurities and fears are the most difficult, and as much as we try to erase them with busyness, alcohol, drugs, food, money, relationships, or STUFF, they hide for decades, waiting to destroy us until we realize who they actually fear.

"Once when he was in the synagogue, a man possessed by a demon - an evil spirit - began shouting at Jesus, "Go away! Why are you interfering with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are - the Holy One of God!" Luke 4:33-34

This is Good News for us and bad news for those demons.  Yes, He did come to destroy them. Yes, they fear him.  I love Jesus' response.

"Jesus cut him short. 'Be quiet! Come out of the man.' Luke 4:35

The Message says, Jesus shut him up.  And he will.  

"I cried to Him, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears." Psalm 34:4

Fears and demons sometimes make us cry.  He'll calm our fears and dry our tears, but when they return to destroy us, because we're human, He'll pull them out from behind our eyes and command them to leave again. His Holiness cuts them short.  Fear and demons leave with His presence.

Katy

Fanatic

 

Football season is an appropriate time to discuss fanatics, or as we refer to ourselves, fans. And boy do we like to talk not only about football, but about ourselves and our dedication.  We're not fair weather fans but love our school and follow the players and coaches no matter what. Even though we're upset when our team loses, we support their efforts and the program and proudly sport their colors. Rain or shine, if we can possibly afford it, we show up early and tailgate.  If we can't afford it, we're happy to watch the game on television.  We're the "real" fans.

Sometimes, we're not sure about fans from other teams; they're obnoxious and delusional. We don't know how in the world they could possibly cheer for that particular school or wear those colors; however, don't let the fact that we have an opinion fool you because we honestly don't care about their "lucky, not such a big deal, opposing team was terrible anyway" wins or their "THANK GOODNESS!! YAY, serves them right for talking trash to me" losses.  Apparently, that's all part of being a real fan.

Everybody likes the WIN, but some sports enthusiasts take the LOSS a bit too far.  They start a FIRE THE COACH or BENCH THE QB campaign, Tweet derogatory comments to players and coaches, pen lengthy e-mails which include their coaching expertise, make plans to withhold all money presently being sent to the program, and sadly .. send death threats to the kicker? Yep. It's nothing new and happens at EVERY school.  Maybe not the kicker, but there's usually a death threat to someone after a loss.  This is when we stand up for our team and exclaim they're not "real" fans.  I tend to agree; however, according to the dictionary, they are, indeed, "real" fans.

 Definition of FAN

1- an enthusiastic devotee, follower, or admirer of a sport, pastime, celebrity, etc. usually as a spectator. Shortened from FANATIC.

They're definitely enthusiastic, and even though they don't act devoted, they usually don't stop following the team.  They may not admire the coach or the quarterback after a loss but quickly change their tone after a big WIN.  So, if they're "real," maybe we can label them as "bad" fans.  For a writer, bad is too weak. Here's my opinion. Remember, every team has one. They're self-centered and childish.  Every game, win or lose, is about them and their pride and desires.  If they can't have their way, they take their toys and go home.  Others don't matter.

Being a "real" fanatically enthusiastic devoted follower of football takes effort, but we believe it's worth it.

What about being a "real" fanatically enthusiastic devoted follower of Christ?  What does that look like? I talk and write about my devotion to Christ.  I'm willing to make an effort to live by his Word.  I support my local church and its enthusiastic followers and even own a few t-shirts. So, I must be a "real" fan of Christ, right?

Then Jesus said to the crowd, "If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross daily, and follow me." Luke 9:23

Take up my cross?  Yes, I believe I'm devoted to Christ. Turn from selfish ways? Do I actually have to think of someone other than Katy?

 

FANATIC -a person whose enthusiasm or zeal for something is extreme or beyond normal limits  

Leave it to Jesus to remind me it goes beyond talking, writing, fellowshipping, and supporting.  Apparently, when I follow Christ, I'm to be enthusiastically devoted not only to him, but to people, his creation. And in Matthew 5 and Luke 6, Jesus' instructions to me are reminders that if I want to fanatically follow Him, my zeal should go beyond the normal limits.

People will know I follow Christ if I love them. Whatever I do for them, I do for Him. I'm supposed to do good and pray for those who hate, curse, and hurt me. When others are rude, I don't need to retaliate; instead, I should treat them exactly as I want to be treated. How am I different if I only love those who love me. What good is it? I must be compassionate and forgiving, not condemning.  People will know if, in my heart, I'm their fan by the words that flow from my mouth or from my pen. Just because I call him Lord doesn't mean I  will inherit his kingdom. Why do I call him Lord if I don't do what he says?

Blessing and cursing come pouring out of the same mouth. Surely, my brothers and sisters, this is not right! James 3:9-10

No matter how much I admire Christ or write and teach about Him, it's impossible to daily take up His cross and show my devotion with selfish ways and pride.  My actions and words to and about others tell whether I'm a "real" follower of Christ.

Win or lose, it's not about me. It's about how fanatic I am about them, even if they're fans of another team,

Katy