Thanksgiving…in June!

Sam and I love to make turkey dinners, mostly because we like to eat them, but also because we like to cook and such dinners involve a lot of that. We realized we hadn't made one in awhile, and decided to rectify that. Last night we got to reap the rewards of our labor. The best part about all of this is that our refrigerator is now stuffed with leftovers!

Fresh out of the oven, waiting to be unstuffed and sliced.

Yorkshire Pudding. The. Best. Food. Ever.

Close up of a pudding. Just looking at this picture
makes me want to go eat another one!

The secret to mashed potatoes is cream cheese…and thanks to the
Pioneer Woman's cookbook, I know that :-)

Me explaining to Andrew how to carve a turkey. Whenever we make a turkey we always
make the guys present carve it, because that's a man's job. I had my dad show
me once how to do it, and so I've passed that knowledge along to several people now! 

Once Andrew got the electric tool in his hands, his hesitancy to carve the bird vanished!

Ready to be served. We should have a med student carve our turkeys all the time!

Surveying the finished product. Turkey, potatoes, dressing, peas, corn, yorkshire pudding, 

(pickles and olives Christy and I snuck on the table), gravy (I made it with no lumps! I was pumped :-)…

 …and an incredible peach and raspberry pie for desert. It's more summery than pies 

traditionally served with turkey dinners, and it was amazing!

It was, overall, a really good evening. I can't wait to do it again! Thanksgiving in July, anyone?

Mosby

For the months following my college graduation, I talked often about wanting to get a cat. I never actually looked for one, though, until Courtney called me one day and asked if I still wanted one. The animal rescue center had given three cats to Asbury to be barn cats, but everyone out there thought this one cat was too sweet to live at a barn.

I drove there with Courtney the evening before they planned to let the cats out, and met the cat they called Charlie (having rejected the name Rhino, which the rescue center had given him). He had a nicked ear, and we noted it looked fresh and wondered if it was from the cage he was living in. The next evening on my way home from work, I ran by PetSmart and bought a liter box and food bowl. The cat was mine.

Weeks later, after trying to track down paperwork for what shots he had been given, we got the whole story on Mosby. He has no paperwork, because he was a feral cat, picked up by the rescue center and deemed too crazy to ever be a house cat. He was given shots and neutered, and, like they do to all feral cats, his ear was nicked and he was sent away to be a barn cat.

His story got me thinking how it is an incredible picture of God's grace in our lives. Mosby was born wild, just as we are born into sin. The world grabbed him, marked and scarred him permanently, and wrote him off as worthless. But just as our value is found only in God, so Mosby's true value was discovered only with a true owner, who agreed to take him, love him, and care for him. He was picked not because of something he had done, nor can he ever repay the expenses I incur necessary for his upkeep. He is loved not because of what he can give me. I love him because he is mine.

Just as he was seen by the world as having lesser value than other cats, so also was his identity hidden. His true identity did not surface until he was adopted, when he was given a permanent name and the opportunity to be a house cat. He will always be permanently marked with the scar from his past, but he has been redeemed from that life and can now live in the security and peace a life of love and belonging brings.