Cookies and Christ
Stories of Faith And Recipes
Mrs. Wing’s Super Powers
By the time my oldest son was in third grade, he had attended three elementary schools. For the foreseeable future, our family would be less transient and I think we all felt like we could relax a bit and settle in. The newly built elementary school just down the street from our home was testing a new program called “looping”. Students would have the same teacher for two consecutive grades. There was NOTHING bad about this plan if your child was assigned to Mrs. Wing. Some say she was a great teacher. In my home, she was spoken of as one with super-powers. I would often hear of her kindness, humor and general grandeur in the eyes of Brennen.
Therefore, the following year, when Bryson was assigned to loop with Mrs. Wing, the news seemed to come to him with a host of angels singing along. He was excited and counted down the summer days until it was his turn to go to Mrs. Wing’s classroom and begin to understand for himself the hero and the legend.
Bry began third grade as an authentic soul. He always wore jerseys; mostly NBA, sometimes NFL…always from the clearance rack. He had an unfathomably vast amount of player statistics memorized. So if a professional athlete’s jersey was sold, Bry knew his significance and contribution through numbers. As we watched games on TV, he would keep running totals of all stats for all significant players in his head and be able to discuss them at will. It was perhaps odd… possibly remarkable…. depending on your level of interest…
Each morning as he dressed for school, he picked out a jersey to wear. Whether it was clean or unclean was not of importance to him. His shorts always “matched”. And then he enhanced his look with an obscene amount of wristbands. His frame was stick-skinny. He placed wristbands on his ankles, biceps, and a few token ones on his wrists. He always completed his look with a headband, grabbed his basketball and jetted out the door for school. I often ran after him with his backpack and sack lunch that had mistakenly been left behind.
Emerging home from school I was given a complete and thorough accounting of recess…only recess…
I knew from his second-grade marks and the stack of “already read it-twice” Harry Potter books that he was reading above grade level. His math skills seemed to be ahead of par as well. However, paper after paper in his backpack had an empty line where he was supposed to write his name. Every time I inquired about it I received the same response… “I forgot…”
As parent-teacher conferences neared, I became nervous about attending. I wondered if (actually- anticipated that) I would be advised about how I should be parenting him differently for him to conform to the simple classroom etiquette of identifying his work with his name printed clearly at the top of each paper. As I nervously sat in the conference I listened patiently as Mrs. Wing reviewed with me his test scores – all well above average. I listened to her delight in his daily self-selected clothing and “accessories”. The conference neared the close and I braced myself hard for the “However….”
And then she neatly stacked his file in the “conference complete” pile and turned in her chair to get up and walk us out. I couldn’t handle the pressure in my head and I began to blurt…”What about him forgetting to bring his homework back to school?… What about him never writing his name on the top of his paper?…”
She looked at me noting my obvious concern. She paused and calmed me with her eyes. “That isn’t as important as you think. He will figure it out. He’s a very intelligent, happy kid. You’re doing a great job as parents, but don’t worry about it.”
I’m not sure if I doubted her assessment aloud or if I just screamed such in my head. Gratefully, I worked harder to heed her advice. The last thing I wanted to do was squelch my son’s confidence or brilliance by too much focus on what Mrs. Wing articulated as unimportant. After all, she had superpowers…
I look back on Bry’s development and I am extremely grateful for those two years of looping with Mrs. Wing, a master educator with super powers I now understood even as an adult… The opportunity enabled Bry to develop a base of confidence and provided a parameter of perspective for me as a parent.
Expecting my children to “fit-in” became a thought of the past. I realized that if they choose to follow and live the gospel of Jesus Christ, they would always be different than the moral and social expectations that surrounded them. Teaching them to embrace the idea of being authentic and finding confidence and peace in doing so became a primary goal in my parenting. Therefore, each of Bry’s subsequent birthdays included a pack of wristbands… a favorite gift of his… and a reminder for me.
-JC
Gingerdoodles
Make a batch of Gingersnaps:
½ cup oil
½ cup soft butter
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
½ cup molasses
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 ½ cups flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons cinnamon
2 teaspoons ginger
½ teaspoon cloves
½ teaspoon nutmeg
Cream oil, butter, sugars, and molasses 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 40 -1 1/4” balls of dough.
Make a batch of Snickerdoodles:
1 cup soft butter
½ cup vegetable oil
2 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Cream butter, oil and sugar 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 40 -1 1/4” balls of dough.
Mix together Cinnamon Sugar Mixture:
¼ cup granulated sugar
3 Tablespoons cinnamon
Place one of each, Gingersnap and Snickerdoodle, cookie dough ball on top of the other.
Next, break the dough disc in half and stack. You now have four layers of dough in alternating flavors.
Break in half and stack again. Now, roll into a ball. You will see the marble effect.
Gently Roll dough balls into Cinnamon-Sugar Mixture.
For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly, 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 min. Share!
-JC
The Ballet Recital
The boys felt utterly tortured… on an exceptionally warm day in May. As I arrived early at the outdoor amphitheater having agreed to help my friend, an instructor for the dance studio, with her young children I was excited to experience my first recital as a “Dance Mom.” The boys were less enthusiastic. Jess quickly and excitedly gathered together with her class. As the youngest ballet students, they would perform first and then be able to go sit with their families for the remainder of the recital.
Jess loved to go to her ballet class. Potentially it was the thrill of getting to wear the over-priced butterfly tutu, or perhaps it was getting to spend more time with her sweet friend Tallie. Nevertheless, she loved ballet. I felt like a good mom for enrolling my daughter in something other than soccer and basketball like her brothers had done.
Following an enthusiastic welcome and introduction by the studio director, the music blared from the sound system and Jessie entered the stage with her class in a straight (ish) line. Jessie was tall, like Tallie, and they both knew the entire routine- well. They were positioned in the very center. Their dance began, and we rolled the video camera to save the memory of her first recital for all who would ever care to watch it. I smiled at Jess and gave her a little ‘mom wave’, even though her concentration and eyes on instructor prohibited her from seeing me.
She watched her teacher for a moment and then her stressful gaze turned to her classmates. She seemed concerned that there were several who were doing the wrong choreography. She broke form and would assist a fellow classmate in helping her with the right movement and then quickly and seemingly effortlessly return to her position on stage and step in rhythm.
At first, it stressed me out. I heard giggles from the audience and worried that other parents would be offended, or that her teacher would think she was distracting from the performance. But as the dance moved on and she continued to assist her classmates, I realized I was seeing a five-year-old who was more concerned about helping someone else, than being in the spotlight herself.
Six years earlier, when we found out I was pregnant with a girl, I was a little excited but mostly worried. I felt like I barely understood how to be a mom to boys. The weight of raising a girl to be strong and fearless in serving Christ felt like a monumental task that I was completely unqualified for. I felt like I wasn’t the best role model and feared her eyes would look to me too often for guidance and direction.
Throughout the years, I’ve tried to step-up or figure out what that even meant, but it was hard for me. It wasn’t long before I realized how much spiritual strength Jessie was blessed with. I realized I need not worry about setting a perfect example on how to live a Christ-centered life, but rather just humbly keep trying and work to not impede progress as she showed me…
My assessment of five-year-old Jessie continues to be true today. She prefers to work in the trenches. She prefers to lift where she stands. She isn’t interested in glory or awards; only in being true to the responsibilities God has entrusted her with. Seems as though I’m the one blessed with a role model.
-JC
Reese’s Peanut Butter Brookie Cookies
Make a batch of Peanut Butter Cookies:
¼ cup soft butter
¼ cup butter flavored Crisco
½ cup peanut butter
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup packed brown sugar
1 XL egg
½ teaspoon vanilla
1 ¼ cups all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter, Crisco, peanut butter and sugars with an electric mixer on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy.. Hand stir in egg and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add an additional 2 Tablespoons flour for high elevation. Scoop out approximately 18 1 ¼” balls of dough. Roll into a ball. Flatten slightly.
Make a batch of Brownie Cookies:
1 -18 oz. brownie mix
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ cup vegetable oil
2 eggs
Mix together brownie mix, flour, oil and eggs until thoroughly combined. Scoop out 18 1 ¼” balls of dough. Roll into a ball. Flatten slightly.
Place a disc of Peanut Butter Cookie directly onto a disc of Brownie Cookie. Bake at 375 degrees for 12+minutes. Remove from oven and immediately gently press an unwrapped Reese’s Peanut Butter Thin cup on the center of each cookie. Garnish as desired with melted chocolate and peanut butter.
Let set. Share!
-JC
Dinner With the In-Laws
Every Sunday when the boys were young it was much the same: -Church worship and service
-Make a simple dish to share
-Dinner at the in-laws
-Relish in how lucky I felt…
The weeks felt long in this stage of life. Everything I accomplished seemed to get undone; clean laundry and dishes became dirty again, floors and bathrooms needed re-scrubbed, groceries purchased were eaten and full children became hungry again. My life seemed to be a consequential replay of the days, hours and even minutes past.
However, Sunday was my reprieve. Spiritual nourishment and church, was followed by physical nourishment at my in-laws. My mother-in-law always made the most delicious comfort food. My sister-in-law and I each contributed an inconsequential side dish or dessert. The conversation was light and entertaining. The food was amazing. And truly the company I kept left me feeling super blessed that I was lucky to be where I was, with the people I was blessed to call family.
My in-laws were always quietly supportive; never judgemental. Through their Christlike example, they taught me how to treat others. We had somewhat different backgrounds and beliefs. But as we gathered, our common goals of humanity and family expanded my understanding of Christlike love.
One Sunday I was attempting a new recipe from a friend of Apple Pie Bars. The prep work of peeling and thinly slicing apples and making a flaky crust with precision and care took me hours. Gratefully my husband entertained the boys as I worked uninterrupted. I placed the large jelly roll size dessert in the oven. In 40 minutes we would need to be loaded up and en route up the road to my in-laws’ home. I checked on my dessert often and began to worry as the sugary apple mixture boiled up over the edges and fell onto the bottom of my oven and heating element. My oven would be a mess, but the apple pie bars were beginning to look and smell nearly done.
I helped to gather shoes and jackets and ready the boys for Grandma’s house. Grandpa owned it too, but it was always referred to as Grandma’s house. Certainly, she was the heart of the home and all who entered felt her unconditional love. My last-minute preparations were interrupted by billowing smoke from my oven. I opened the door to flames. I quickly tried to remember my childhood 4-H lesson on kitchen fires and grabbed some salt to try and extinguish the flames. I scattered a handful of salt on the bottom of the oven where the sugary spillover had caused quite a mess. Thermodynamic airflow sent salt throughout the oven and covered the top of my potentially delicious Apple Pie Bars that I had spent all afternoon making!
I gasped in horror! They were ruined. My oven was a mess and my home- foggy with smoke. I turned around to my motionless family. “Get in the car!” I snapped. “We don’t want to be late.” I grabbed a brownie mix on my way out of the door and we headed to the In-Laws for dinner.
Gathered around the table, we all had a good laugh as I recounted the dessert sitting on my back patio sticky and salty… No one complained at the brownie mix dessert. Sunday dinner with the In-Laws was most certainly the highlight of my week. These were good people; Christlike people. Even in my adulthood, I was still learning to emulate His ways… His love… His steps in humanity to all as I witnessed others around me doing the same. I was surrounded by brightness, hope, and unconditional love… Enough to give me wings for a time as I tried a little harder to be a little better as a mom, wife, and friend to all I encountered in my week.
-JC
Red Velvet Sugar Cookies
1 cup soft butter
1 ⅔ cups granulated sugar
2 XL eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
¾ cup sour cream
2 teaspoons red gel food dye
3 Tablespoons cocoa
3 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
¾ teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in eggs, vanilla and sour cream. Stir in cocoa and red dye. Don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 5+ Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Refrigerate dough for 3 hours. Scoop out 36 2” balls of dough. Roll slightly. Flatten to 3/8 inch high. Bake at 350 degrees for 14-16 minutes depending on size. Cool. Frost. Let set. Share!
Cream Cheese Frosting
8 ounces softened cream cheese
½ cup soft butter
1 Tablespoon vanilla
4 cups powdered sugar
Dash of salt
Mix cream cheese and butter until smooth. Add vanilla, powdered sugar and salt. Mix until fluffy. Spoon into freezer strength Ziploc until ready to use.
-JC
Chasing Birds
In 1993 Whit and I had a toddler and were expecting our second son. We had made a simple decision that seemed dramatic to the world’s typical views. Whit went to work at an entry-level position he was over-qualified for and I stayed at home with the kids despite the salary with Whit’s position being technically below the poverty line. We crunched the numbers and knew we could (barely) make them work with a few creative maneuvers and a lot of sacrifices. There was no budget for date nights or babysitters, but occasionally we would splurge with gas money by going to the park by the river together as a family with a picnic lunch. Whit and I would sit on a denim quilt handmade by his Grandma and watch Brennen as he tirelessly chased birds. It was strangely one of his favorite pastimes at the park. He would swing for a minute, zoom down the slide a time or two and then chase seagulls until we had to bribe him with a treat to get back in his car seat and head home. Here’s the deal… he never caught a bird… Not too surprising given the nature and resources of seagulls. Nevertheless, Brennen giggled with delight in the chase and recounted his adventures all the way home about the time he almost caught one… As I watch Brennen 25 years later well into his own adulthood- he still chases “birds” and I love to watch him and become inspired just as much. The “birds” he chases aren’t literal- well not most of the time… But rather seemingly unattainable dreams. He’s never been shy about setting his dreams, hopes, and visions at an impressive mark and then working with God to align his will with His Creator’s.
Here’s what I know about God’s will for each of us as the very individual beings we are… It changes. It’s His very plan that I progress. Thus it makes perfect sense that God’s will for me is not a one-time destination but rather a seemingly invisible line of upward progression. As I work toward understanding His will for me, aligning my desires with His, working my hardest as if the attainment of such goals is accomplished by my own merit- and then accepting God’s grace and magnitude to watch in humble disbelief at what we create together… Indeed chasing “birds” is a beautiful way to live life. As I stumble in the chase, Christ is there. When I allow Him to dust the dirt off of my chin and help me to my feet, I realize I’m not alone.
God wants Brennen to continue to chase “birds”. He wants me to believe- and chase them also. He wants me to trust in Him, follow my son’s lead with faith in the knowledge that in and through God, nothing is impossible. As I allow my Father in Heaven to help navigate my goals dreams and ambitions, I see His work unfolding and myself just playing a simple part, delighting in the chase. -JC
Cookie Dough Bites
½ cup soft butter
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup packed brown sugar
½ teaspoon vanilla
2 Tablespoons milk or cream
1 cup flour
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup mini chocolate chips
Cream butter, sugars, vanilla and milk with an electric mixer on medium-high for 30 seconds or until well incorporated. Stir in flour and salt. Mix well. Stir in chocolate chips. Scoop out 20 1 ¼” balls of dough and gently roll. Refrigerate for 30 minutes.
Melt:
¾ cup semi-sweet chocolate chips,
¾ cup milk chocolate chips
1 Tablespoon coconut oi
Stir until smooth.
Dip each Cookie Dough Bite into melted chocolate. Garnish with additional chocolate drizzle if desired. Chill. Let set. Enjoy!
-JC
The Fight
Everything I was feeling seemed wrong…like I was broken…
I had read books and magazine articles and gone to all of my prenatal appointments.
Nevertheless, I was completely ill-prepared for the inevitable. His beautiful blue eyes stared back at me as I tried through tears to understand him, his needs, and how I could possibly attempt to meet them.
I felt insignificant and completely insufficient in the skill set required to be a good mom. I was exhausted and overwhelmed. My emotions were out of check and I felt lost.
I couldn’t understand why I didn’t feel more natural and capable in my role as his mother.
Why did my world with an amazing husband and perfect beautiful baby boy feel clouded?
Long before this time, I believe I was in a pre-mortal existence. I believe I fought for the opportunity to come to earth and get a body. I believe I promised I would tirelessly fight off the adversary and fight for truth in utilizing my agency to work to return to my Heavenly home and help others to do the same.
And now with seemingly inconsolable cries coming from a beautifully crafted wood bassinet, I needed to fight through the postpartum depression that had grasped hold of the person I used to be and was nearly suffocating her. I had read about hormonal changes causing mood and depression problems, but I never thought it would happen to me this intensely. I believed happiness was a choice and available to any who chose to cast their burdens at Christ’s feet and claim it. But for me- at this time, it seemed relentlessly out of reach.
Somehow, I scraped enough strength to change and feed my baby and fall in debilitating fatigue-back in bed. Morning brought the light of day and in sincere prayer, I pleaded for my own light to return. I wondered if it’s dimness could be seen by others; I concluded it must…
Months later…Slowly… Like the rising sun, my energy reasserted, my strength returned, and my resolve renewed…
I wasn’t sure how to fight- only I knew that I needed to be all in -in doing so. I now held the divine mantle of mother and my fight was no longer just my own. The sweet innocence that returned my stare and reached for me needed me to fight for him too.
In my brokenness came my ability to be taught by God. I was not alone. In my exhaustion, angels- seen and unseen fought alongside me…
Their strength became my strength. Eventually, enough Christ-centered faith to take one step replaced my fear.
I promised I’d keep fighting, utilizing strength made possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ…
Perhaps a similar promise that I made long, long ago.
-JC
Raspberry Cheesecake Cookies
Graham Cookies
1/2 cup soft butter
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 XL egg
1 teaspoons vanilla
1 cup + 2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup graham cracker crumbs
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter and sugars with an electric mixer on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in egg and vanilla; don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 1 Tablespoon more flour for high elevation. Scoop out approximately 16 -1 1/4″ balls of dough. Gently roll. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly, 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 min. Let cool. Frost cookie with Cheesecake Filling. Refrigerate until ready to serve. Just before serving, garnish with fresh raspberries drizzled with Raspberry Syrup. Add a zest of fresh lemon if desired! Share!
Cheesecake Filling
1/2 cup heavy whipping cream
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
¾ cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon lemon juice
¼ cup sour cream
Beat heavy whipping cream until stiff peaks form. In a separate bowl, beat together cream cheese, powdered sugar, vanilla and lemon juice until smooth. Stir in sour cream. Fold in whipping cream. Spoon into freezer strength Ziploc and refrigerate until ready to use.
Raspberry Sauce
¾ cup fresh raspberries
1 teaspoon cornstarch
1 ½ Tablespoons sugar
3 Tablespoons water
Whisk together cornstarch, sugar and water. Stir in the raspberries. Cook and stir on medium heat until mixture begins to boil. Continue cooking for 1 minute. Remove from heat. Let cool. Refrigerate until ready to use.
-JC
Patience In My Obstinance
The wintery weather of 1991 was rough in the mountain valley town we lived in. Perhaps it was a typical winter as per the almanac… perhaps it was only seemingly especially rough because our car had a hitch in it’s ‘giddy-up’.
Every morning, mid-day or evening as we left our rented apartment, we would be hopeful, even prayerful that the car would start.
It never did… at least not with a simple turn of a key.
There were two people needed each with distinct jobs required in starting the car. One person needed to sit in the driver’s seat, and as momentum built, pop the clutch in the perfect moment and turn the key, then skillfully respond to the momentum built from the car descending down a snowy icy residential hilly street.
The other person had the job of pushing the car with enough strength and speed to allow it to gain momentum to coast down the hilly street, all while digging their feet into the snowy icy hilly street as to not lose one’s footing and end up face down.
I took the pushing job. It was in my wheelhouse of knowing what to do. Navigating my footing on snow and ice was perfected as I attempted to sprint on my paper route as a kid in southwest Iowa- no matter what the weather. So I claimed my job and ignored Whit’s attempts to convince me otherwise.
Nevertheless, Whit tirelessly attempted to convince me each day for months I could do the “driver’s seat” job. I refused to try. The liability of his parents’ car sailing down the city street and my fear of not timing the engine start correctly was too risky in my mind. And as two full-time students trying to make ends meet on my waitressing tips, we needed a car to get to school and work. Thus it was obvious to me we take fewer risks and go with what we knew.
Whit adamantly disagreed. Perhaps it had everything to do with me being six months pregnant with our first child…
Nevertheless, I am obstinate and patient in my obstinance.
Every departure from our apartment began with the same conversation and ended with the same result. Whit would try and convince me to sit in the driver’s seat… Without a word, I took my rightful position at the trunk of the car and wouldn’t budge. I waited out his lame attempt to convince me to do something other than push the car down the hill.
The truth is, we made it through! Each departure had me pushing the car down the hill and sprinting to catch up and jump in the passenger side.
I remember never feeling anything but grateful that we had a loaner car from his parents. And-I remember feeling an inner competition to see if I could jump in the passenger seat a little quicker and a bit more “Dukes of Hazard -ish” each time.
I often flashback to this season of my life where I tried to acquire an attitude of gratitude. Perhaps sometimes God intervenes and brings it to my remembrance, and perhaps sometimes my own conscience works to not forget…
I’m grateful I remember. Sometimes I let self-pity fill my thoughts as I ponder the blessings I wish I had. And then I remember:
Who I am…
Who I want to be…
What I want to represent…
Even- Who I want to represent…
Focusing on my invisible problems is a life void of discipleship of Christ. So my perspective shifts and my actions follow. I fail…And I try again. Some days, I remember my red cold nose staring back at me in the visor mirror, mascara smeared from cold watery eyes- and the girl- dressed in her waitress uniform offering up a silent prayer of gratitude for the safe, warm, transportation and a plea that restaurant patrons will be generous enough with tips to cover the rent payment…
-JC
Black & White Sugar Cookies
Make a batch of Vanilla Sugar Cookies
1 cup soft butter
½ cup vegetable oil
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
1 ¼ cups powdered sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon clear vanilla
3 ⅔ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Cream butter, oil and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until well blended. 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 36 -1 1/4” balls of dough.
Make a batch of Chocolate Sugar Cookies
1 cup soft butter
½ cup vegetable oil
1 ¼ cups granulated sugar
1 ¼ cups powdered sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup dark cocoa
2 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
Cream butter, oil and sugars with an electric mixer on medium-high for 1 minute or until well blended. 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 36 -1 1/4” balls of dough.
Marble cookies by placing a disc of Vanilla Sugar Cookie on top of a disc of Chocolate Sugar Cookie. Break into half, length-wise and place one half on top of the other. Flatten slightly. You now have four layers of alternating flavors. Break and stack again. Roll into balls. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly and refrigerate or freeze until ready to bake. Place on greased or parchment paper on an aluminum cookie sheet.
Bake at 350 degrees for 12+ min. Cool. Drizzle with Chocolate Ganache, or melted Dark Chocolate Hershey bar. Let set. Share!
Chocolate Ganache
2/3 cups whipping cream
1 cup chocolate chips
Heat on low whisking constantly. Cool slightly until ready to use.
-JC
Working Hands
The morning of my August wedding found me in an unfamiliar place, however, surrounded by my family.
We were staying with a distant relative near Washington DC.
I didn’t have enough money for hair nor makeup appointments but I was blessed with a sister who was willing to help me do my best.
We finished hair and makeup and I told her there was one last task to do… I had six ugly black stitches in my ring finger… And I wanted them out…
My summer job search had landed me at a roadside farm near our small town in rural northwestern Pennsylvania. I had worked my way up from harvesting strawberries for 25 cents a quart to assistant farm-hand making $3.25/hour. The best thing about my promotion was that I got to ride an ATV to and from the different fields to check on crews and harvest crops to sell at the road-side stand.
My hands looked like farm hands… Dry, rough, calloused, and stained with green from the plants and weeds.
A week before my wedding, I decided to begin wearing rubber gloves in an effort to try and reverse the effects of the long summer’s work from my hands.
One morning I was doing the routine field checks and preparing to harvest some broccoli and cauliflower to sell at the stand that day.
My quick work took a wrong turn when I carelessly sliced my finger as I cut the broccoli spears.
I drove back to the stand, wrapped my finger tightly with a few bandaids, doubled the rubber gloves, and finished my chores for the day.
The throbbing was intense and my bloodied bandages began to show through my gloves.
The boss man said I should get it looked at and I reluctantly told my mom what I’d done. I went to a nearby medical clinic where a doctor looked at my messy bloodied finger.
He cleaned out the debris and pieces of a rubber glove and told me I was lucky I cut it without damaging any tendons.
He quickly and seemingly carelessly stitched up the cut with thick black synthetic sutures and told me to schedule an appointment for 10 days later to recheck the healing and remove the stitches…
Six days later, I was in Washington DC, on my wedding day, begging my sister to cut off my stitches.
She refused; citing doctor’s orders.
I rummaged through my make-up bag for a solution. With seemingly no viable alternative, I used nail clippers and tweezers to complete the job myself…
I looked at my hands…
They weren’t pretty… at all…
The stains had faded, but the swelling on my ring finger remained and the callouses and dryness were only temporarily soothed with inexpensive lotion…
Hours later as I exchanged rings with Whit- the swelling prohibited my wedding band from sliding past my second knuckle. We had a nice little laugh…
I couldn’t hide it: My hands were working hands.
Little did I know then how important those hands would be as I decided to dedicate my life in trying to use them to be an instrument in God’s hands.
Turns out… working hands are the best kind…
The lessons I learned over the next several decades regarding what God needed me to do for Him and what He still asks of me today are humbling.
He doesn’t need me to have all the answers or know exactly where my journey leads.
He just needs me to take one simple step today in faith in continuing to seek His will, follow Him, and use my working hands to further His work.
-JC
Lemon Blueberry Cookies
½ cup soft butter
½ cup sour cream
1 ⅓ cups granulated sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon lemon extract
Zest of 1 lemon
2 cups + 2 Tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup fresh (washed and dried) blueberries
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Cream butter and sugar with an electric mixer on medium high for 1 minute or until fluffy. Hand stir in sour cream, egg, vanilla, lemon extract and lemon zest. Don’t overmix. Add dry ingredients all at once and mix until fully incorporated. Add 2+ Tablespoons more flour for high elevation. Gently fold in blueberries. Refrigerate dough for 2 hours.
Scoop 15 -2” balls of dough onto parchment lined baking sheet. Bake at 350 degrees for 14+ minutes. Immediately drizzle warm cookie with Lemon Glaze. Let set. Share!
Lemon Glaze
2 Tablespoons lemon juice
1 cup powdered sugar
Zest of 1 lemon.
Use food processor to thoroughly mix all ingredients. Spoon glaze into freezer strength Ziploc until ready to use.
-JC
A Birthday Without Cake
I was leaving Chicago on my 18th birthday. The sun seemed to rise unusually slowly. I’d been waiting for it to light the sky and my surroundings all night.
As the sun crested over the flat Midwest landscape I finally felt like I could rest.
I was on a series of Greyhound buses from Pennsylvania to Utah en route to begin my freshman year at Brigham Young University.
My first bus had arrived in Chicago in the early morning hours. It was a point of exchange where I unloaded from the bus that had brought me thus far on my journey and awaited the departure of the next bus at 5:00 am. For several hours I sat eyes wide open in a filthy, poorly lit bus terminal in Chicago, Illinois. Most people sat quietly and dozed off. My heart raced every time someone spoke- whether to me or to someone else. I had a few snacks and sandwiches I packed from home but my stomach churned from nerves and fear. I couldn’t eat. I sat motionless.
The night passed slowly. I kept watch on everyone who came and left and rested my legs atop my suitcases. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of my hopes and anticipations for college life. But mostly I just silently prayed non-stop that I would arrive safely.
Eventually, I loaded my suitcases and settled in on the bus departing Chicago that would take me to my final destination.
For hours, I watched out the window as a somewhat familiar Midwest landscape seemingly unchanged- rolled by my window. I was grateful for a window seat on this leg of the journey to lean against. I sighed relief as we crossed the Mississippi River into Iowa.
I finally drifted off to sleep. My exhausted mind told me I was “home” and I could rest for a bit.
36 hours later I arrived in Utah. A second sleepless night took me through Wyoming before arriving in Provo, Utah late morning.
At the time, it seemed strange to me that I was the only rider who got off in Provo.
I sat on my suitcases waiting for a ride my parents had arranged to take me to my college apartment. I had barely spoken to anyone in three days.
I felt a level of emotional and physical exhaustion I had never known was possible, but I was safe, and anxious to begin this new chapter.
As I look back now on this experience I wonder if when things got tough at school- Did I remember praying for three straight days that I would get there safely?
Did the peace I felt remind me that God is there? That he is mindful of me?
The transition to college had fun days mixed with hard days.
One hard day I wrote a letter to Mom.
I felt terrible for being a difficult child to raise and causing her so much grief the previous 18 years. The pangs of missing her and my family were intense at times. I felt overwhelming gratitude for her tireless efforts on my behalf. I needed to let her know in whatever way I could use words to convey the love I felt in my heart.
I better understood God’s plan to send us to earth with families, and truly the important divine role of mother…
And… I vowed to myself there would NEVER be another birthday without cake!
-JC
Salted Caramel Shortbread Cookies
1 cup cold butter, cut into small pieces
1 cup powdered sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt
Add all ingredients at once to food processor. Mix on high for approximately 1-2 minutes or until dough forms a ball. Add 2 Tablespoons additional flour for high elevation. Roll into a log and chill for one hour. Cut into 20 ¼ inch slices and bake at 350 degrees for 12-14 minutes. Let cool for 10 minutes. Add a dollop of Caramel Cream onto the center of each cookie. Sprinkle with sea salt. Garnish with melted milk chocolate.
Let set. Share!
Caramel Cream
6 oz. unwrapped caramels
2 Tablespoons whipping cream
Dash of salt
Heat caramels, cream and salt in microwave for 30 second intervals until melted. Stir until smooth. Let cool to room temperature.
-JC
Friday Night’s Campout
My senior year of high school began with multiple goals and a change in outlook. I had decided to make better decisions regarding what I did with my free time and the places I frequented. I was blessed to be welcomed into a group that spent their weekends shooting hoops and having good clean teenage fun with a standard of high morals and meaningful values.
One Friday morning at school, I asked one of my guy friends what our group was doing for fun that weekend. He told me I was on my own because the boys were all going camping- no girls allowed! While pretending to not to, I listened in on their conversation at lunch outlining the details of their campout including a specific description of where the site was located.
I cannot explain the compromised thought process that resulted in me dragging along a girlfriend and heading out of town on an unfamiliar course to crash their “man” camp-out. We left a bit late into the evening and I certainly wasn’t prepared for any problems finding their campsite. Nevertheless, I took a wrong turn on a darkened road in Allegheny National Forest. What I thought was the road to find my friends, was actually just a few car lengths long. It was a short paved easement from the county road to a farmer’s road. Without realizing my mistake until it was too late, my turn left us stuck in a muddy field.
My friend and I immediately jumped out and assessed how stuck we truly were. “Think…think..think…” I impatiently told myself. I tried turning the wheels to the left and to the right. I had watched my mom drive in snowy southwest Iowa, noting she was pretty good at getting herself free from deep snow. I tried to use similar skill sets in my current pickle, but with no success. We were clearly stuck -and with every unsuccessful attempt in getting free, I feared we were only getting ourselves into a deeper problem.
I had thought about praying for help several times during my crisis. I had failed to gather enough faith to even try- knowing my troubles were due to my own mistakes and a slew of rules I had broken. Looking around at the increasingly darkening skies and at my friend whom I felt bad for leading astray, I decided I had no choice. I starred off into the horizon and said a silent prayer asking for help.
An idea immediately came to my mind to take the floor mats from the backseat and wedge them underneath my back tires. The mud was thick. I was filthy. My friend was equally filthy. We got in the car. I said another quick silent prayer and slowly and carefully stepped on the gas. The car climbed out of the deep ruts and I slowly turned it around and back onto the asphalt easement. My friend and I looked at each other in disbelief. We were free! We got out to slosh back through the mud to get the back seat floor mats. It was pitch dark. We did not have flashlights and despite tireless efforts, we only ever found one. I feared the punishment momentarily but relished in greater gratitude instead.
My friend and I stopped at a gas station, cashed in our dollars for quarters and spent a long time at the nearby car wash trying to erase any proof of my evening antics from my family’s car. After a second trip back inside for more quarters, and a second round of soap and water, we deemed our work pretty impressive including a soaking wet, but perfectly clean back seat floor mat.
It was a long drive home from my friend’s house and well past curfew. I retraced the evening’s events in my head. It all began with a terrible idea, proceeding quickly to a poorly thought out plan. However, I had been rescued. My desperate prayer was quickly answered and I was freed from the stress, anguish and inner turmoil of my poor choices. I remember connecting a few dots of thoughts on my drive home. My evening had played out similar to an analogy in a repentance lesson from church.
Mistakes lead to the desire for change. Humility and prayer brought in God’s help. (His perfect love provided us a Savior to literally rescue us from our wrongdoings, and the filth of sin.) The relief I felt when I was safely driving home in a clean car continued to deepen the analogy of being cleansed from sin.
I arrived home. Mom hardly woke when I came in saying nothing about the early morning hour. I took a long hot bath and threw my clothes in the washing machine.
The car was clean.
My clothes were clean.
I was clean.
With the exception of a missing floor mat, there was no evidence of any wrong-doing. However, there was a standard of measurement secured. I knew the importance of repentance and now I knew through a personal analogy exactly what steps to take to be clean and feel peace. For the remainder of my senior year until I left for college, an occasionally mentioned missing floor mat by a backseat passenger reminded me of my experience and the ensuing lessons. Not a bad trade off….To better understand Christ’s willingness to rescue me…
-JC
Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies
1 cup soft butter
1 cup peanut butter
1 cup granulated sugar
1 cup packed brown sugar
2 XL eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ cup dark cocoa
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 ½ cups combination of peanut butter chips, chocolate chips and/or Reese’s Pieces
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter, peanut butter 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 an additional 2 Tablespoons flour for high elevation. Stir in chips/ Reese’s Pieces. Scoop out approximately 24 2” balls of dough. Gently roll. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly, 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 min. Let set! Share!
-JC
Twig Like Arms
Volleyball season my senior year was met with much anticipation. Most of us were returning starters with goals of progressing extensively through post-season play. My teammate and fellow setter and I were named co-captains. We were excited to pick up where we left off in our offense with 4 hitters and 2 setters. It was a bit old-school for the emerging faster-paced changes the sport was embracing, but we were a well-oiled machine in our rotations.
The first day included many familiar drills and fun. Coach Firth taught us that discipline and hard work resulted in fun and success. Practice was always just that! However, when we broke into our offense work portion of practice he informed us of some changes. He worked to teach us an offense where only one setter was on the court at a time. My mind raced. My teammate and I, both setters, had just been named co-captains and now he was putting one of us out of a job. Undoubtedly my face turned red with embarrassment mixed with anger as Coach told the team my co-captain would be our setter and I was moving to outside hitter.
Coach told me to stay late after practice and he would help me learn my new position. I felt defeated. 5’8” was not tall “enough” to be a hitter. My arms were most similar to a storybook snowman’s: weak insignificant sticks. Unfortunately, I didn’t spend much time in the weight room due to the smells that emerged from that dingey corner of the school…Therefore, my legs nearly equaled the girth of my arms. My vertical jump was unfathomably insignificant. There was NO WAY I could succeed at hitting.
I was angry at my coach for ruining my senior volleyball season and stewed over it for the rest of practice. Afterward, he reminded me to stay late and take a few extra reps at hitting. He invited the rest of the hitters as well and worked with me to get the footwork and approach down. Before too long, my hits would clear the net, but never go down with the force of my teammates’. I watched our hitters pound the ball hard and forcefully across the net. I knew they were good. I had played alongside them as their setter the previous year.
Coach watched me watch them. My teammate, our setter, was good too. He must have seen the defeat in my eyes as he approached me on the sidelines where I had taken myself out of turn. I told him I didn’t think there was any way I could ever hit the ball like them.
He took one look at me and laughed as he rebutted “Of course you can’t!!! You are too short, you can’t jump, and (lifting my arms up) you have no muscles….”
My throat ached and I fought off tears as I quickly looked away using all my emotional and physical strength to avoid crying right there on the sidelines. Coach positioned himself right in front of me and told me he never expected me to hit like them. He told me I would be equally successful and important to my team when I simply learned to place the ball where the other team’s defense had holes.
“I know how to do that already!” I blurted realizing that was the best part of my game as a setter- basically sending the ball over the net to a hole in the defensive coverage.
The next day at practice, with renewed confidence I took my new place in our offense’s rotation with confidence. Coach needed me to be my best self as a hitter with my strengths, not imitate the strengths of others.
The concept was no different than coming to know myself as God sees me. Our Creator made each of us different- sizes, desires, talents, strengths and weaknesses. My opportunity on earth is to magnify my gifts and triumph over my weakness while I work to become an authentic version of a child of God. My Father in Heaven knows me perfectly and sees my potential for success. He knows as I work with others and the greatest teammate, my Savior: Brother, Friend, Advocate, that I can overcome all that is hard, wrong and unfair about our experience on earth. In making efforts to work together, I began to realize how my different strengths and weaknesses weave together to accomplish more than I ever could do on my own. In trying to do just that, I could eventually learn to appreciate my own differences- including twig-like arms…
-JC
Snickerdoodles
1 cup soft butter
½ cup vegetable oil
2 cups granulated sugar
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 ½ cups all-purpose flour
1 ½ teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
Cinnamon-Sugar Mixture
¼ cup granulated sugar
3 Tablespoons cinnamon
Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
Cream butter, oil and sugar 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 24+ 2” balls of dough. Gently roll into Cinnamon-Sugar Mixture. For a richer flavor and smoother texture, form cookie dough balls, flatten slightly 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+ min. Let set. Share!
-JC
Cookies and Christ 