Dilapidated Place of Refuge

I began playing high school basketball in Iowa standing at  4’11” with disproportionately large size 8 feet. Such numbers further complicated my general lack of coordination. My Sophomore year our family moved to Pennsylvania during the basketball season. I was ineligible to play. In my Junior year, with wavering confidence, I joined the Varsity team.  My height had finally caught up to my feet and I was thrilled with learning the game and its quick pace. Between my Junior and Senior year of high school, I had struggled with changes as a result of the move. However, I discovered a dilapidated basketball court about a block from my house. The asphalt was sloped and broken. The metal net was barely hanging on. Nevertheless, this court became my place of refuge. It was there, that I could forget about all the little struggles of being an awkward teen in a new town.

My sanctuary became my passion and my Senior year resulted with much success on the court. I was honored with many scholarship offers to play basketball at the collegiate level.  I verbally committed to play for a small college not too far from home.

One Sunday in early spring of my Senior year, a group of leaders from church and my parents collectively expressed their concern regarding my choice of where to attend college. They feared it was short-sighted.  I left this arranged meeting quickly, in complete silence and utter outrage at the lack of support from the people I trusted most.

I drove towards home and stopped by “my court” as I thought about my own plan for the future. It was a good plan. I had worked plenty hard to be successful. I believed in myself and I knew without a doubt that I was strong enough to thrive in the nearby town, playing the game I loved. I also knew that my loving Heavenly Father was there to help me.

It was time to acquire a second opinion about my future- this time- from God. After arriving home knowing the family would be quite a while behind me I went straight upstairs to my room. As my knees hit the hard wooden floor by my bed, tears were already streaming down my cheeks as I uttered a prayer to my Father in Heaven pleading with Him to tell me I was good enough to do what I had worked so hard for.

I felt an undeniable love from my Heavenly Father. This had become a feeling I was familiar with. I knew He knew my struggle, my pain, and also my correct choice. Without a doubt, I felt like I needed to change course. I knew I needed to exercise greater faith and trust in Him and follow Christ’s example by accepting God’s will. I also knew that He would be there to help me every step along the way.

-JC

As I reflect on this experience today, I ask myself:
Do I realize conversion to be an ongoing process instead of a one-time event?
Do I plead in prayer to my Heavenly Father in heartfelt prayers to understand Christ’s work more fully?
Do I pray to know my role in His work?

Soft and Chewy Molasses Cookies

1/2 cup soft butter
1/2 cup butter flavored Crisco
1 cup sugar
1 1/4 cups brown sugar
1/2 cup molasses
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 XL eggs
4 cups flour
2 teaspoons baking soda
1/2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons ground ginger
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1 teaspoon nutmeg

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Cream butter, Crisco, and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until fluffy.

Hand stir in eggs and vanilla; don’t overmix.

Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2-3 Tablespoons more flour for high elevation.

Scoop out approximately 20 + 2” balls of dough.  Roll into balls. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls and refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.  

Bake at 375 degrees for 12-14 min. Let cool. Sprinkle with mixture of ¼ cup powdered sugar mixed with 1 Tablespoon cinnamon.  

Share!