Confidence

A Fathertale Adventure.

Delight yourself in the LORD, and he will give you

the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4

 

MY FIRST FIGHT AS A NEW BRIDE:

14 years ago I could NOT cook.  Truly, I was just dreadful.  This was further compounded by the fact that my husband’s family is to Ohio what “Bon Appétit” is to America.  My mother-in-law’s kitchen is a little piece of heaven.  You want to buy a pie at the church bake-sale?  Get there early, because Debbie Yoder’s will sell-out first and to the highest bidder.

As a gift, my sister-in-law bought me a beautiful recipe box and filled it with the family’s tried and true.  She hand wrote each card, fully aware of her audience, with things like, “This will get thick – DON’T GET SCARED!”

To this day, when I pull those recipes from their now well-worn container, I smile to myself, knowing these are the “classes” I took on my road to becoming a wife who can hold her own in this family.  But meal ONE was for the record books…

We got married and D.C. immediately became my new home.  Our lives as Mr. & Mrs. officially began.  But “Mr.” had a job AND a night law school program.  My current job? … Make a dinner.  I decided on Steve’s favorite soup, Chicken Corn Chowder.

I didn’t know this new town yet and was completely terrified to drive in it.  The only grocery store I was aware of sat about 25 minutes away (of course, there were about 10 options in between that I couldn’t see on that main road, but you know…).  Having now done the heart-pounding drive and ingredients purchased, I got home and began reading my step by step cooking instructions.

BUT PEOPLE – I forgot to buy the CHICKEN!  So back into the car I went.  After the 2.5 hours invested in grocery shopping, I could finally nail this soup thing out.

My assumption was that all soups taste better the longer they simmer.  I wanted this to be one rocking meal, so I made it at lunch and let it slow cook all day long.  (probably not the best approach with a cream based soup, but that’s hindsight)  The recipe said to STIR REGULARLY.  And regularly I did!  I probably stirred that soup 300 times that day.

Late that night when Steve finally came home, THIS meal was my accomplishment.  He’d worked all day as a patent agent in Georgetown and then went to Law School, but never mind that, I flipping made it to a grocery store on my own (twice!).

He sat at our beautifully set dining table and waited.  I scooped out my masterpiece, scooping from the bottom, as that’s where all the chicken goodness lies… scooping from the BOTTOM… In all of my stirring, I never made contact with THE BOTTOM.  And now this white soup had an infusion of the charred layer that’d cooked for hours.  Black specks popped up everywhere – like lava ash.

I said nothing.

“He won’t notice, Heather.  Don’t panic.”

I placed our bowls in front of us, we prayed over our first dinner in our new home and, with spoons raised, the FIRST words out of his mouth were, “what is this dark stuff?” (He was new at this marriage thing, too…).  And that was all he needed to say.

I started crying and left the room.  Well, I tried to leave the room.  It was a one-bedroom apartment and basically everything was in THAT room, so I closed myself in our walk-in closet, sat under my dresses and ugly-cried.

He tried everything to get me to come back.

“No, Honey, it’s good!  See, we can still eat it.”

(Whatever. I knew that was a lie) I was not leaving my hiding corner.

At a genuine loss for how else to fix things, he brought in our bowls, sat on the floor in front of me, apologized again and we ate my first home cooked meal, burnt bits and all, in a closet.

Why in the world would this matter to you?

Because we need a reminder that we are a work in progress.

Our society is a land of instant gratification.  We want what we want and we want it now, preferably in a handmade gift box.  But people are not designable.  Marriages are not mail order.  Who you decide to spend your life with can’t possibly tick every box on your list of “must haves”.  It’s a trap I see a lot of young mate-searching people falling into today.  Frankly, it’s a trap many already married people are suffering through, as well.

Waiting for your “Prince to Come”, well that’s a lovely idea, but, as much as I like the idea of being a princess, fairytales are written by fairies.  When it comes to your happily ever after, wouldn’t you rather have a “Fathertale” written by a God who loves you, made you, and made your mate?

Being perfectly honest, Steve is NOT the person I thought I would marry…

Not long ago I found myself going through an old box my parents had been storing for me.  It was filled with special memories I’d saved since middle school.  You know the kind… old Eat N’ Park sugar packets I’d kept because the boy I liked was there too (at someone else’s table, but that’s beside the point).

It was only when I stumbled across a letter I’d given to Steve one month before our wedding date (a letter I don’t even remember having written) that this plastic bin gave me its real hidden treasure.  I finally realized how misguided my approach to finding a husband had been.  My words began here:

When I was a little girl I used to picture myself as a traveling worship leader, married to a famous traveling preacher.  I just knew I’d be dressed to the nine’s and rock the house with my amazing voice, while my husband preached gospel-style for hours.  Ten years ago if you would have asked me if I’d marry a lawyer and move far away from home, I would have said ‘Not a chance’. Funny how things change.

As I read the rest of this love letter I’d written 14 years ago, I was completely overcome.  What I saw glaring back at me is a document proving that God KNEW my heart, and He knew how to give me my great desires – in His time.  He could even weed out the ones I desperately wanted, but had been wrong in contemplating.  AND give me the ones I would have NEVER asked for (like moving me 3,500 miles away to a land of Lederhosen).

My man may not be a traveling preacher and I may not be a famous worship leader (there’s the small matter of my voice being about a 7 on a good day).  TODAY, Steve’s not just capable of being a pastor, but he could preach on Sunday and lead a company on Monday.  Parts of him are different because he’s taken on me.  Parts of me are different because I’ve taken on him.  Our 22 year-old selves could never have ticked off all those boxes on that carefully crafted list I’d held in my heart.

I’m still a mess of work-in-progress road signs.  So is Steve.  But hindsight has taught me that society is wrong.  We don’t ever settle when we follow God’s voice.

Throw your list away, my sweet friends.  Talk to God about what you desire and then let Him give you something better.  The packaging may look different than your McDreamy Must-See TV version.  You might even feel a compromise or two (or ten) in the making.  TRUST your Father.  In the meantime, what you SHOULD work on is having a Holy Spirit ability to “Know that you know that you know” when he (or she! Guys are figuring things out too!) arrives.

And I’d be willing to bet my treasured recipe box on the fact when your “Prince” does finally come, he’ll do the needed equivalent of sitting in a closet to eat your nasty burnt soup.

To be fair, this really is a wonderful meal … WHEN STIRRED FROM THE BOTTOM.  Guten Appetit!:

Mexican Chicken Corn Chowder –  from Stephanie Streit (aka sister-in-law extraordinaire)

  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless skinless chicken breasts
  • 1/2 cup chopped onion
  • 1-2 cloves garlic, minced
  • 3 Tbs butter
  • 2 Chicken bouillon cubes
  • 1 cup hot water
  • 1/2 – 1 tsp ground cumin
  • 2 cups half & half cream
  • 2 cups (8 ounces) shredded Montery Jack Cheese
  • 1 can cream style corn (16 ounces)
  • 1 can (4 ounces) chopped green chilies, undrained
  • 1/4 to 1 tsp hot pepper sauce
  • 1 medium tomato, chopped

Cut chicken into bite sized pieces.  In a soup pot or Dutch oven, brown chicken, onion, and garlic in butter until chicken is no longer pink.  Dissolve the bouillon in hot water.  Add to pan along with cumin, bring to a boil.  Reduce heat; cover and simmer for 5 minutes.   Add cream, cheese, corn, chilies, and hot peppers sauce.  Cook and stir over low heat until the cheese is melted [this will not take 8 hours 😉 ].  Stir in tomato.  Serve immediately.  Great with a fresh load of bread.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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  • sharlacrm September 30, 2014 at 12:03 am

    Heather…you have an ability to “hook” us in with your storytelling! I thoroughly enjoyed this one! Will send to some of my “single” friends!

    • Heather Yoder October 5, 2014 at 9:56 pm

      Well, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. =) It feels good to get these things off my heart and out that there to others who can laugh and cry with me. We all have similar stories, don’t we? It’s wonderful to find a way to relate and encourage (and thank YOU for being my encourager today!).

  • Grace Marquez October 3, 2014 at 5:51 pm

    Hi Heather…. wow… that beautiful sharing of your life brought tears to my eyes… that was right from your heart but you include your light
    hearted personality in it as well. It is true, we think we know what we want in life, we jot it all down and then pray that it all happens
    but what do we know….. if we don’t know the Lord and know that HE is in control and definitely knows what is best for us.
    i have my best friend from high school that I am going to share this with… she is a strong Christian and I know she will
    enjoy this as I have often teased her about her first dinner for her husband that was hot dogs and peaches…..she didn’t have any
    family recipes.
    Thank you for sharing your family recipe, I am definitely going to try it… P.S. Steve sounds like a real hero when he
    brought the bowls to the closet door so you could both eat together… I love it and definitely look forward to our meeting in God’s
    timing.

    • Heather Yoder October 5, 2014 at 9:55 pm

      Dear Grace,
      I’m so grateful for you. It’s strange to say it, as we’ve never actually met, but your family is a family to me also. The way that the Father takes a random girl from Pgh and plants her in a tiny town in Spain to meet with a couple who builds her a house and forms a lasting friendship… And now, YOU and your wonderful husband. It’s ALL a privilege. And thank you for sharing this blog with your friend. It means a lot to me, and helps me further a cause that God’s put on my heart. You are a gift! – Heather