Don’t Be Your Own Worst Roadblock: Trust in Yourself and Others (plus recipe: Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies with Red Chile)

For years, I offered to make cookies for all of the Mormon missionaries I met, as long as they wrote me a letter. The only requirements I have are that the letter has to be handwritten (not an email that is carbon copied to everyone in their mailing list), and it has to be about something good that they’ve learned or experienced on their missions. A moment when something difficult led to blessings, or an “Aha!” moment when they saw or heard something that gave them greater understanding into a concept they hadn’t understood before. Then, they just had to tell me what kind of cookie they wanted. Any kind at all. (A favorite cookie that Mom used to make, something new that they wanted to try, or even a brand-new custom flavor invented entirely for them.) But none of the missionaries thought I was really serious, and so no one took me up on the offer.

And I guess I get it. We live in a cynical world, where it’s easy to filter everything through the “what’s in it for me?” test. So why would someone offer to bake homemade cookies for people she barely knows?

Then, one day about three years ago, Elder Robert Calkins, a Mormon missionary in Albuquerque, New Mexico was at our house for dinner. I gave him my cookie promise, and my kids encouraged him to take me up on the offer. (If I’m making cookies for someone, after all, the kids get to eat some of the fresh-out-of-the-oven goodness.) He laughed. I’m pretty sure he didn’t think it would actually lead to anything. But he had a cool experience to share that he was excited about. So he pulled out a piece of paper, and right then and there, wrote a letter about something he had experienced a few days earlier.

“I don’t know what kind of cookies to ask for, though,” he said as he finished the letter. So my son suggested his favorite: one of my relatively new recipes, which I had created at the request of my good friend, Brenda Drake. Oatmeal Chocolate Chip with Red Chile.

When I gave him my reply letter and a batch of freshly-baked cookies a few days later, the other missionaries noticed.

“How did you get those cookies?”

*shrug* “I wrote a letter.”

“Wait. That works?!?” And suddenly, other missionaries were writing me letters about the amazing experiences and life-changing moments they had on their missions.

I’ve shared this recipe before, but since I’m dedicating this month to highlighting the good and wonderful things I see in the world, and the good and wonderful people who populate my little corner of it, I have to share again. Because this recipe is tied to so many of my favorite people that it never fails to make me smile when I make the cookies.

I think of Brenda, an amazing author, the creator of Pitch Wars, an inspiration and mentor to countless writers, and one of the all-around best people I know. These cookies wouldn’t even exist without her, because she was the one who challenged me to make the New Mexico version of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies in the first place.

I think of Robert Calkins, an amazing young man who trusted my word enough to try my promise, and reminded me (and several other missionaries who took me up on my promise because of his success) that sometimes we’re our own biggest roadblock in life. It’s so easy to talk ourselves out of things that we want, simply because we don’t trust that the blessings will be waiting for us at the end of our challenges. And while it’s a wise thing to remember that, when something seems too good to be true, it usually is … It’s also important to have faith in the goodness and promises of people we associate with. Sometimes, a little effort can bring very sweet rewards.

I think of my son, Ben, who is one of the most inspiring and amazing people I know. Ben has a talent for truly seeing people. He can pinpoint, often within minutes of meeting someone, the strengths and weaknesses of that person. And he generally uses this super power for good, reflecting back to each person their best qualities, and finding little ways to lift and help them through their weak moments. He’s one of my heroes, a true example of the unconditional, Christ-like love we all want in our lives, and I strive to emulate this behavior as much as I can. These are Ben’s favorite cookies, so they don’t stick around long at our house, when I make them. But I love making them, because they always make him smile.

And I think of another Mormon missionary I’ve come to know and love: Savanna Sanborn, who came into our lives and became something of a big sister for my daughters. When she totally cheated my system and cleverly requested not one but four original cookie recipes by asking me to create a representation of the various Harry Potter houses in cookie form, I had to cheat right back and repurpose one of my already-created recipes. These sweet, but a little bit spicy, cookies felt perfect for the challenge.

These are my Gryffindor cookies. A representation of the Harry Potter house that even people who have never read the books will recognize. The familiar flavors of the oatmeal chocolate chip are like the old friends you know and love, who you can count on to always be there for you when life gets you down. And the unexpected kick of the red chile represents the bravery and adventurousness of the house of Gryffindor. It takes a little bit of daring to bite into a cookie that might be spicier than you’re used to, but they are so worth the risk!

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies with Red Chile

You will need:
2 c. butter, softened
2 c. dark brown sugar
1 c. granulated sugar
4 eggs
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. salt
2 tsp. vanilla
4 c. oats
4 c. whole wheat flour (you can also use all-purpose, but whole wheat tastes better)
1/2 - 2/3 c. diced dried red chiles (these can be as mild or as spicy as you like)
1 pkg. mini chocolate chips
2 c. raisins (opt.)

In a large mixing bowl, cream together butter and sugars.

Add eggs, baking soda, salt and vanilla, and beat until creamy.

Stir in oats.

Add the flour, 1 cup at a time, beating well after each addition.

Mix in chiles, chocolate chips and raisins, if desired.

Chill dough for 30 minutes to 2 hours. (This step isn’t strictly necessary, but chilling the dough allows the butter to solidify slightly and gives the cookies a fluffier texture. If you’re too impatient and choose not to chill the dough, your cookies might come out fairly flat. They will also spread more as they bake, so make sure to leave extra room on the tray between cookies, so they won’t run together while baking.)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.

Using a 1-inch cookie scoop, portion the dough onto an ungreased cookie sheet (I like to line my cookie sheets with parchment paper for easy clean-up, but you shouldn’t need it for a non-stick cookie sheet). 

Bake for 8-10 minutes, until bottom edges are slightly golden brown. Remove from cookie sheet and cool on a wire rack.

Adventures in a Real-Life Hallmark Movie

You know that scene in all those Hallmark Channel movies, when the whole town comes together to save the main character from whatever drama she's facing? Yeah, I feel like I've been living in that scene for the past several months, as we struggle to get our home fixed. I've been living on the verge of a total meltdown every day, yet every time I hit that place where I simply can't do it anymore on my own, someone steps forward to carry my burden for me. Between the overwhelming auctions put together by so many amazing publishing people and the donations on our gofundme page, I spent a lot of this summer crying happy tears. I still can't believe how much support we're getting from all of you wonderful folks!

We've officially moved back to Maryland now, but we're still waiting for work to begin in restoring our house. We're facing what I think will be the last hurdle before we can get a loan to pay for the renovations, and I'm trying to stay positive, even though the silence is killing me with every day we wait. (We have to get an official appraisal saying what the house will be worth after repairs ... but so far we've had two appraisals scheduled, and though both were warned about the damage, they didn't take the warnings seriously. Both appraisers backed out as soon as they saw the true extent of the mold damage. If you're the praying type, please send up a prayer for us, as we have a third appraiser scheduled to go in today. If the appraisal comes back with a value high enough to justify the loan we need, we'll be able to get work started!)

Still, I'm a firm believer that every trial brings great blessings. And every challenge, no matter how devastating it may seem, is just another building block in the foundation of greatness.

This belief has certainly been strengthened since we arrived in Maryland.

We arrived with cheerful thoughts and high hopes a little over a week ago. We didn't know where we were going to live while waiting for our home to be fixed or how we were going to get through the next few weeks or months, but we were confident that it would all work out somehow. (I'd hoped, when I discovered the damage in May, that we'd be able to get the work completed over the summer and be ready to move in by the time we arrived. Sadly, that was not the case. Instead, we spent all summer trying to find a way to pay for the repairs.)

Turns out, finding affordable (or even super-expensive) temporary housing (a place that doesn't require a long-term lease) for six people and two cats isn't as easy as you might think. We found several apartments that offered short-term leases and welcomed our two cats ... but they had a four person limit. Then, we found one place that would allow all six of us, but only one of our cats. And one place that had room for all of us (cats included), but wouldn't be available until mid-October! Each possibility we explored started with a surge of hopefulness, leading to total despair when my hopes were crushed. When we reached the end of the list (after calling or visiting every apartment complex we could find in the area, and even begging a local realtor for leads) with no results, I sat in my car and cried. My only options were to give up one or more of my family members in exchange for a place to live ... or to remain homeless for a couple of months. None of those options were acceptable, but I didn't know what else to do.

So I went online and sent out a call for help to all of my friends in the area. Minutes later, a friend of a friend saw my plea. And she had a friend who was getting ready to put her home up for rent at the beginning of September. A friend who was willing to speed up the process so we could move in right away. A friend who had room for our whole family AND our cats. ... And her friend has become, in only a few short days, not only my landlord but someone I can truly call a friend as well.

I'm still hovering on the edge of tears every single day, and I feel like I'm walking an unmarked path through woods so dark I can't see farther than my next step at any given moment. But I will keep walking, keep moving forward. Because though the journey is difficult and sometimes truly terrifying, there are so many wonderful blessings to be found along the way. And I have discovered the best traveling companions to get me through. Thank you all for being a part of my journey! I love and appreciate you more than words can possibly express.

Anniversary Art Challenge: Picture #9 - Sparky McDuff, the Leprechaun

To celebrate our anniversary, my amazing artist husband, Phil, decided that he would do a 19-day art challenge, drawing one new picture every day for 19 days. And I thought it sounded like fun, so I jumped right on the band wagon and declared that I would write a silly, one-page story to go with each picture he creates during this challenge. Of course, I have to wait for him to finish each day's picture before I can write the story, so I should be one day behind him ... but I'm actually more than a few days behind. (Today, I'm once again trying to play catch-up! There will be multiple stories & pictures posted throughout the day, and eventually, all of the pictures & my stories will be posted on my website.)

The picture from Day #9 was a leprechaun, complete with a rainbow and a bubble pipe. (I kind of love this, because when we were in college, I used to keep a bottle of soap bubbles in my pocket, and I would blow bubbles while I walked across campus between classes.) It took me a few days to find the leprechaun's story, but here it is, only two days late for St. Patrick's Day. :)

Sparky McDuff tucked his pot of gold beneath the sprawling roots of a giant ash tree and leaned against the trunk to wait. He filled his pipe with the finest bubble solution and blew a long puff of air, sending iridescent bubbles shimmering through the air. Now, he only needed a rainbow to seal a lucky charm into his gold. This would protect it from any would-be thieves and bandits. 

He smiled at the clear blue sky and closed puffed away happily at his pipe. At least he had picked a nice day for it. When his older brother and sister had charmed their pots of gold, they hadn't chosen as wisely. Goldie had sat for three hours in a miserable, gray drizzle before the rainbow appeared for her. And Colin had endured a torrential downpour for forty-five minutes in order to find his rainbow. They had both been soaked and miserable by the time their gold had cured. 

But Sparky was smart. He checked the weather every day for a week until he'd found the perfect day. Blue skies and sunshine were much better for rainbow-watching than overcast, drizzly skies. There wasn't even a single cloud to ruin his wait.

He waited all day, happily puffing on his pipe, but the lazy rainbow didn't appear. And when night fell, Sparky had no choice but to remain with the tree and his gold. Without the rainbow charm, any random passerby could easily snag his treasure as their own.

For days, Sparky sat under the ash tree, but although birds sang merrily in the treetops and the sun shone brightly in the clear, blue sky, not a single rainbow appeared. Finally, on the ninth day, dark clouds rolled in and covered the sun. Sparky frowned and shivered inside his coat as fat raindrops splashed on his head. All of his careful planning had been for nothing. 

Tired, cold and hungry after more than a week of waiting for a rainbow that never came, Sparky now had to endure a rainstorm as well. But just as he was about to give up and go home, the clouds parted and a brilliant ray of sun burst forth, reflecting off the lingering raindrops. And suddenly, the brightest rainbow he'd ever seen arched through the sky and settled on Sparky's pot of gold.

Facing Fears Head-On

A while back, I wrote about Living with an Expiration Date  and my determination not to let those daily "what ifs" of living with a brain tumor stop me from living my life. Usually, I'm pretty good at remembering all of the great advice I gave myself in that blog post. Usually, I can brush off the weird symptoms and ignore the strange side effects of living with a brain tumor. And most days, I'm genuinely grateful for the little daily trials that help me to remember all the major blessings that get me through.

But for the past couple of months, I've been struggling. I'm not sleeping well, my dizzy spells have increased, I'm having more muscle spasms than usual, and I've lost count of the times I've simply stopped breathing because I wasn't consciously thinking about inhaling and exhaling. These are all "red flag" symptoms that could easily be nothing (might be stress or exhaustion or even a common virus) but this particular group of symptoms was also the exact combination that finally led to the discovery of my brain tumor in the first place.

And two years after my radiation, this combination of symptoms was the reason my doctors and I decided to run another set of MRI and CT scans to see if the tumor was growing again. It was. (That's when I had my surgery.)

So even though I know it could be nothing, and even though I've dealt with each of these symptoms in a myriad of different configurations over the years, facing them all together like this sends the "what if" monster into a frenzy. Unfortunately, this time around a series of scans won't help us to see if the tumor is growing again. Because the remaining tumor is invisible to scans, so there's no way to know for sure.

I've been reminding myself daily that it's probably nothing. And I'm trying to believe that. Because it's probably the truth. And I've been hiding my fears from everyone, because I didn't want to worry anyone. And I've had so many people tell me that my optimistic outlook is an inspiration ... so it feels like I'm letting the whole world down if I'm not always "on."

So I've plastered on a happy smile and painted rainbows and bubbles across the sky. And I've tried to be the most positive, upbeat, cheerful person ever. Because that's who I am. And that's who I want to be.

Meanwhile, I've been operating in panic mode for the past three months, battling the strongest what if monsters I've ever encountered. "I need to knit enough hats and scarves and mittens to last my family throughout the rest of all eternity, because what if I'm not here next winter to make more?" "I must organize all of our family photos and kids' artwork and random bits of memorabilia into scrapbooks, because what if no one remembers that this group of fast food receipts was from the anniversary when we were too poor to go out for a nice dinner, so we bought one thing at each of six different fast food chains instead?" "I must write ALL THE BOOKS, and sell them to publishers NOW, because what if I die before I get the chance, and NO ONE REMEMBERS ME EVER???"

I even joined an anonymous online brain tumor support group, so I could talk about my fears with total strangers, carefully hiding any identifying details that might let people in my real life know that I'm worried. But I haven't been hiding the crazy as well as I thought I was, so there's been an added layer of tension in all of my relationships for the past few months, as I push people away "Because what if they start to rely on me, and then I die and leave them without that support? I need to pull away ... to make them find other people to lean on instead." (On some levels, this has totally worked. My friends and family members are turning more and more to each other for help, and they're less likely to come to me with their problems. I'm much more isolated these days than I used to be... which may not be an actual good thing.)

And yesterday, all of the fears and what-ifs and craziness came crashing down on me all at once when I had a major meltdown over something that, honestly, wasn't even worth shedding a tear about. Because in all of my crazy what-ifs, I'd made a secret deal with myself: If this one thing that I was hoping for (that actually looked like it was pretty likely) came out the way I was hoping it would, I'd have proof that God loved me enough to hold off all the scary what-ifs I keep imagining. I set this private ultimatum on something I was 98% sure would happen, because I knew it would be an easy way for me to prove to myself that all the fears and worries were baseless. All I had to do was get past this one easy hurdle, and then I could rest assured that I'm not dying and my family will be okay, and people won't forget my name by tomorrow.

But that 98% sure thing? Yeah, turns out it wasn't as certain as I thought. It didn't happen, and the whole fragile system of hope I'd built on this flimsy premise crashed all around me. And my poor friend who got caught in the middle of my meltdown had no idea how this really very tiny, almost insignificant, thing (which was actually, ironically, good news ... just not the picture of events I'd determined to be my "you're not dying" signal) set me spinning into such a severe spiral. And the more she tried to comfort me, the more those fragile barricades I'd built for myself exploded, until I was hyperventilating and she was wondering what the heck just happened.

Today is Tuesday, the day I set aside each week to worship in the Temple, to refresh my spirit and gain the strength I need to face all of the fears and worries of another week. But I had reached such an all-time low that I couldn't even make myself go inside. I sat in the parking lot, staring at the Temple through my windshield, wondering if I shouldn't just skip this week. Because I feel closer to the Holy Spirit inside the Temple than anywhere else, and that's where I always get the tough answers to my most difficult prayers. What if I asked, and He told me that yes, I am dying?

But I was already there, so I decided I might as well go inside. I took a deep breath and opened the car door ... and my phone trilled with an email from my friend, who was checking up on me after my meltdown yesterday.

So of course I had another, even bigger, meltdown.

We emailed back and forth for over an hour as I sat in the parking lot, afraid to go inside and face the Lord. And I'm pretty sure I hurt my friend's feelings many times over in the course of my meltdown ... But I couldn't rationally explain myself. Because fears like this aren't rational. And even though I knew I'd regret it later, I only wanted to lash out - to push her away, so that if I die, she won't have to be hurt.

So, in an attempt to salvage my friendship before I completely destroyed it, I stopped answering her emails. And I called my husband to let him know I was going to skip going to the Temple today and meet him for lunch instead.

He told me to go inside, and he'd see me for a late lunch afterward, whenever I was finished conversing with the Lord.

Have I mentioned that my husband is very wise?

I sat in the quiet peace of the Temple, opened a Bible to 2 Timothy and began to read. In chapter one, verse seven, it says, "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."

As I felt the love of the Savior wrapping around me, I realized something profound.

I don't know if I'm dying. I don't know if I have five minutes left on the earth or five days or five decades. But if I did die today, it would be okay. My children are amazing and well-prepared for just about anything life throws at them. My friends won't forget me. And my husband and I have a bond that will last throughout all eternity, and not just until death do us part. And if I can feel that safe and loved in the Lord's presence, I don't have anything to fear on the other side.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I don't have any plans to die today. I intend to live fully each day that I'm blessed to remain on this earth. But I don't need to be afraid of the possibility. And if I die today, before I get a chance to go skydiving or to meet my favorite celebrities or finish another book or any of the other things I've been worried that I might not get to before it's too late ... well, it doesn't really matter, does it? Because that's not what life is about anyway. And death isn't really the end.

Getting my Priorities in Order (Update!)

I suffer from "As You Wish" syndrome.

When someone I love needs or wants something from me, it's very difficult to say no. I love seeing you smile and knowing that I played a part in putting that smile on your face. But sometimes (often), I say yes to so many people that I end up with far too many commitments and not nearly enough time to accomplish them all. And then I end up disappointing the very people I'm trying to help.

I've blogged about this issue here, here, here, and here (as well as a few - okay, many - other times). And let's be honest, I'll be blogging about it again before long. For someone with "As You Wish" syndrome, learning to say "no" is an ongoing, life-long process.

And I knew I was approaching my breaking point again a few weeks ago, when I talked about Juggling All the Things. But this weekend, I realized that I've actually long-since passed that point. As I sat down to schedule my Saturday, trying to fit in DD#1's band competition, DD#2's volleyball game, DD#3's church youth group mother/daughter activity, DS's bass guitar lessons, movie night for my oldest two daughters and their youth group, a church dance for my son, Pitch Wars critique, writing critiques for my CPs, blog posts, responding to emails about TWELVE STEPS school visits, and trying to fit in a little time to write my own WIP ... Something had to give. At any given time, I had at least three different places to be simultaneously. And since scientists haven't yet perfected cloning, I just couldn't do it all. But I'd promised everyone, and I couldn't let them down! So I worked out a schedule where I could do a little bit of everything, as long as I didn't stop moving for even a moment. It meant being on the move from 6am until 11:30pm or later, but I would do it all. And then, when the craziness was all over, I promised myself I'd learn to say "no."

As I prepared to leave my youngest daughter's mother/daughter activity (where we made these adorable Princess headbands for the little girls at church)

 the leader gave me a hug and said "I know you're extremely busy, but thank you for taking some time to come today." I smiled and nodded, but I was already running late for my next commitment, so I didn't really have time to let her words sink in.

That night, when I met my older daughters' youth group at the movie theater (where they were going to see the new Meet the Mormons movie), their youth leader invited me to stay and watch the movie with them. My daughters and their friends agreed. It would be so fun!!

"Oh, no," I replied. "I can't. I have work to do. I'm going to take my laptop and find someplace to write."

I watched the faces of my two daughters fall as they nodded and accepted the fact that Mom was too busy to simply hang out with them and their friends. - So I scrapped the rest of my To-Do list for the night and spent the next 90 minutes or so sharing a giant bucket of popcorn with the girls.

I'm really good at reminding other people that they shouldn't try to do everything at once. In a recent guest post about social media on the SCBWI MD/DE/WV blog, I wrote: "Don’t try to do it all at once! You know that old adage about eating an elephant one bite at a time? The same applies to building your online presence. If you try to do everything at once, you’ll burn yourself out before you even get started." And it's time I started taking my own advice. So once again, I'm making the commitment to streamline my life.

For the rest of October, I'll be playing catch-up. I'll be completing a web re-design to make my author website and blog more streamlined and easier to navigate, and I'll be setting a posting schedule for myself that will (hopefully) be easier to follow - including letting some of the less-important things go. When I come back in November, I hope to be much more consistent.

And I need your help! I want to return the main focus of this blog to it's original purpose: Finding the blessings within life's daily trials. I'll need to let go of some of the "extras" that have taken over recently, but I don't want to lose them all. So please vote in my poll below to let me know which blog features you love and which you really could do without. (Vote for as many items as you'd like. I'll take all of your input into consideration.)

Thank you so much! I love you all!!

Update: As votes trickled in for my poll, both officially and through comments on my other social media outlets, I realized two things:

#1 - The results were incredibly inconclusive. Every vote I got for discontinuing a feature was offset with a vote from someone else for keeping it. 

#2 - I was sorely tempted to "cheat" by asking friends and family members to come cast their votes for the things that I wanted to win. Which means I already know, in my heart, what needs to stay and what needs to go. So I've closed the poll early, and over the next week or so, I'll be working out a schedule. At the end of October, I will post my new schedule, along with the reasons why I'm keeping (or letting go) the features I've decided upon.

*Giant Squish Hugs* to you all!!