A Sour Milk Kind of Week

"Don't cry over spilled milk."
I'm pretty sure that old adage didn't mean that I couldn't cry over the two gallons of spoiled milk that flew out of my warm refrigerator and covered me and half my kitchen in a fatty, drippy mess Saturday morning.

It had been one of "those" weeks, really.
Monday started out a bit rocky, then Daddy volunteered to take the three-year-old to the market while the baby was napping and the older two were schooling.  It helped get us back on track, and I was looking forward to the rest of the week. Daddy headed out to buy fresh milk Tuesday morning. I knew I'd have to process it and cool it as best I could, because our electricity was due to be off most of the day, but if the lights came back on at 6 p.m., I didn't think we'd have too much trouble. The milk arrived about noon, but it was more than I'd planned on. I processed it and cooled it as best I could, and put the mostly cooled milk into my mostly cool refrigerator. We have a tropicalized refrigerator, which means that they are built to retain the cold longer, and as long as the electric company kept there end of the bargain, all would be well.
They didn't.
The magical hour of six o'clock came and went, and nothing happened.
I pasted a smile on my face and went about finishing supper in the semi-darkness. At 6:41 p.m. the lights came back on..............not that I was paying attention to the clock or anything. At 7:05 p.m. they went off again. Back on a few hours later, and then back off again a few more times all through the night.
Thus proceeded the rest of my week.
Lights on, lights off.
Lights on, lights off.
Lights on, lights off.
And every time the electricity went off, all I could think of was that milk in the refrigerator.

*I will add here, that when you live in a place with unstable electricity, all those warnings I heard growing up about food spoilage absolutely get thrown out the window, because if you followed those?
Well, you'd be pitching everything at least once or twice a week!
Those warnings? We like to think of them more as suggestions :)
And trust me, we have lots of practice when knowing if something is really bad enough to be thrown out!
I will also add here that our milk comes straight from the cow, is vat pasteurized by me, and does not go rancid very easily. If we ever have any that lasts more than seven days, I just make it into cottage cheese.

When I went to make hubby and me a cup of hot chocolate with the milk on Thursday night, I realized my milk was in trouble. As I heated it in the pan, it started separating into curds and whey.... We skipped the cocoa. Our lights had been so bad at this point that I just knew that we'd have electricity on Friday. I'd make my huge pot of milk into several tons of cottage cheese then. Bad choice. Friday's electricity was worse than the rest of week's put together and it just carried right into Saturday morning. At this point I figured out that we'd not had electricity about 20 of the last 24 hours.....not that I was counting or anything. Saturday morning I walked into my kitchen hoping to at least be able to salvage a few things out of my thoroughly warm refrigerator. I knew the milk would not be one of those things. I pulled the door open.......................
Well, you read the first paragraph.
Milk ~ spoiled, rotten, clumpy, warm, slimy, smelly flew out of the refrigerator and landed all over everything, me included.
I spent a lot of time scrubbing my kitchen Saturday morning.
You probably could have guessed that!

I also spent a lot of time thinking about my attitude.
A bit spoiled, a bit rotten, and probably a bit smelly this week, just like my milk.
An attitude that swung between entitlement ~ How dare they keep taking MY lights!
and false humility ~ Look how much I'm suffering as a missionary!
and rage ~ What is wrong with these people!?!
An attitude that was controlled by my circumstances and not by truth.
An attitude whose words were directed at people and things, but whose heart was pointing an accusing finger at God.
Every time I "raged against The Machine", I was really raging against the One who allowed The Machine to break.
I wasn't really just angry at the electric company, in the end I was really angry at God for allowing me to go through a hard week.
And that, my friends, is sin.

So with the scrubbing of the floors, and the walls, and the cabinets, and the refrigerator, and the freezer, and the mop, and my shoes, I made sure to do a bit of scrubbing of myself.
A good soul-scrubbing, washing away every bit of that sour attitude right along with the sour milk.


* I share this not to glory in my infirmities or pat myself on the back, but to simply share how Jesus keeps teaching me what I need to learn again and again. And if you find yourself in a sour milk kind of week? Maybe this story will be a blessing to you, too!

Pressure Cooker, Slow Cooker, and the Explosion

I had never used a pressure cooker until I came here.  It's pretty simple, though. I just put the lid on tight, make sure there is a good seal, and then turn on the stove. Pressure builds up in the pot and cooks the food fast at very high temperatures. Every few minutes the pressure cooker releases pressure in a noisy parade of steam. It's a pretty handy little thing! It saves time and cooking gas. Bonus: When there is a tough cut of meat, the pressure cooker can really help make it tender and delicious.

But I must admit, I miss my slow cooker. Just throw everything in the pot, put the lid on, turn it on, and hours later there is a delicious complete meal ready and waiting. The slow cooker sure makes some tender meat, too! But it does is with a lot less noise.

****************************************

Right now, the heat is on and I am feeling it.

Everyone is screaming for my time and energy.

What I've learned from Sofia*

About a year ago, Sofia started attending our church.  Sofia has a very troubled life.  Her husband is an alcoholic and drinks every bit of money he makes.  Sofia works hard at her job to keep the bills paid and food on the table.  She lives with her husband and three teenage children in a small, one-bedroom apartment.  She has been directly affected (in her immediate family) by teenage pregnancy, abortion, abuse, drunkenness, drugs, and suicide.

When Sofia first started coming to church, she was very unhappy.  She never smiled and would sit in her chair with her head down, and not talk to anyone.  She has spent many hours in Chris’s office with Chris and I sobbing about her life.  Several weeks after she had started coming to church, we began to notice a change in Sofia.  No longer would she enter church quietly and sit dejected and depressed in her chair, but she would smile upon being greeted and she would stay around to fellowship after the service.

 “…for the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10)

Now she enters church with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.  She greets everyone with a smile and enjoys singing the hymns during church.  Did her circumstances change?  NO!  However, Sofia has found the Joy of the LORD!  Sofia told us that she can’t believe the peace in her heart since she “met God’s Son.”  Her circumstances are still the same.  She still works hard cleaning to provide for her family.  Her husband still drinks.  Her daughter is still in an abusive relationship, etc… Her life is still heartbreaking.  She still has times where she is crying in Chris’s office, but instead of despair over her life, she is now praying for the rest of her family to find the Lord as she has.  No longer do we see a sad, dejected woman; instead we see a joyful, hopeful Christian!

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith…” (Galatians 5:22)

Sofia has been a lesson to me.  I can’t imagine living the life she lives, and yet the Joy of the Lord shines through her.  Despite her circumstances, she is Joyful.  Happiness is a reflection of your circumstances, while Joy is a reflection of your heart.  How do we who have the Truth portray ourselves and our Savior to those around us?  When people look upon our countenance, what do they see?  Do they see an expression based on our circumstances, or do they see the Joy of the Lord?

“Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost.”
(Romans 15:13)

*(not her real name)