You might be glad to know that I listened to the Body of Christ, who was telling me to take something nice to my neighbor after our unfortunate introduction at the hands of the beast. So last night I made a batch of butterscotch haystacks and I hope to distribute them to that family and to my other neighbors this evening. I will be leaving Beckham at home when I go. This is normally a treat I make at Christmas. But hay is a fall thing, right?

Here is the recipe I used in case anyone wants to give them a try.

Butterscotch Haystacks

1 cup of butterscotch chips
1/2 cup of peanut butter
1/2 cup of Spanish peanuts
2 cups of La Choy chow mein noodles

Heat the peanut butter and butterscotch chips on 50% power for 3-5 minutes. Stir, then add noodles and peanuts. Drop by teaspoonfuls onto wax paper. Let them harden and then eat ’em all up!

*I like to go lighter on the peanut butter and heavier on the noodles, but that’s just me. The peanut butter definitely makes it easier to work with. I was so happy that I ended up buying way more chow mein noodles than I needed because I really like to eat them plain. They are tasty!

Here’s what they look like. The recipe makes a lot more than this. I didn’t keep track of the exact amount because I made it a few times over. Eek!

If you have a favorite fall treat, share the love!

Also, let’s remember to pray for our Bible study leaders today. Many of them are in the home stretch as we all reach the half-way point or final weeks of our Bible studies. The Esther group in Houston only has two more sessions after tonight. (Although Beth still has tons of writing left to do.) I’m sure our Bible study leaders could use our encouragement and our prayers as they aim to end strong in the Lord Jesus! Way to go, leaders!

I am not one to love Mondays, but I am fully embracing this one. (Monday – Attitude! Right Wising Up girls?) Last week was possibly the longest week of my life and I am happy to say hello to a new one. Curtis, Jackson and I all came down with the stomach bug. Not a blessing. On top of that, for the first time in my life I baked a loaf of bread. A loaf of bread that my dog grabbed off the counter and ate like it was a common Meaty Bone. This is a dog who eats athletic socks. He doesn’t exactly have fine taste and my hot loaf of homemade bread was wasted on him in every way. At least I had two pieces before he got to it. Curtis didn’t even get to see my loaf of bread, much less taste it. And believe me, I wanted him to tell me how great it was!

I just got an email from Jessica B. from North Carolina. Take a look at what she had to say:

After almost completing the Daniel Study I was led by the Spirit to “clean-up” my iPod playlists and remove the songs that were pure Babylon. Now I have an empty iPod and need suggestions of songs to add from my fellow siestas. I live where there is not a Christian radio station and I need help. I am trying to lose the last of my baby weight and need suggestions to help keep me moving.

Can you help a siesta out? What is one song you could suggest to Jessica? If your favorite has already been said, go with your next favorite!

Beth’s suggestion is “Hallelujah Praise” (Hallelujah is the Highest Praise) by CeCe Winans. Mine is “Let God Arise” by Chris Tomlin. I might have to make an “Anything But A Siesta” playlist on my iPod!

You are not going to believe that I was just in the main Living Proof suite (my office is in a different part of the building) and noticed one by one that each of my coworkers had something white in the left corner of their mouths. When I saw the first one, I honestly – and blondely – thought to myself, “Well, now Kimberly has spittle. I am going to have to go whisper in Sabrina’s ear and tell her to go look at it. It must be easier to develop than I thought. I wonder if she has post nasal drip this morning. She sounded a little clogged earlier on the phone.”

Then by the time I saw a few others, I knew. THEN, they all gathered around me in full spittle with the funniest looking expressions I’ve ever seen in my life. I nearly did what women nearly do when they’re that tickled. They were willingly fellowshipping in my humiliation. How could you not love a group like that??? It put me totally over the edge to see Linda, our accountant, fully spittled. Not only is she decidedly less sanguine than several of us and lovingly thinks we’re mostly certifiable, she also is in the middle of our annual voluntary audit with CPAs crawling all over the office. I’ve never loved her more. I’ve never loved any of them more. They simply said, “We go through what you go through.”

Turns out it was white cake icing. They keep licking the sides of their mouths now. I wish I’d thought to do that.

Last night at Bible study, I was in the throes of teaching a very involved lesson when I could not help but notice one of the camera men waving wildly to get my attention. Then, with great emphasis he pointed to his face with both index fingers. OK. I get it. Something was clearly wrong with my face but what, I asked myself. And what that hasn’t been wrong with it for the last 5 decades? I did first what you would have done. I checked my nose. “Oh, please Lord, not the nose.” Thank God, I didn’t feel any kind of foreign object (praise You, Lord, for manifold mercies!) and for a moment I felt relieved. Then the camera man waved and pointed again. Aerobically. I hoped against hope that he was having a breakdown of sorts. Was he caught in a loop perhaps? It happens. I tried to go on teaching. More waving. More pointing. Just the one guy. Every one else acted like all was well. No one stopped me to fix anything so I thought to myself, “What could be bad enough to keep waving at me about, but not bad enough to stop me?” Lipstick on my teeth, I decided, so I did the tongue over the teeth thing. Meanwhile I was trying to teach my class a very difficult literary structure in Esther. More waving.

It looked this time as if he were pointing to his cheeks, so I had my class look at a Scripture and I swept both sides of my face subtly with my hands. I thought maybe my lip plumper had shifted and caused swelling in my cheeks. More waving. Pointing. At least twenty minutes later during one of the most intense classes I’ve ever taught, I knew nothing else to do. I pulled out a Kleenex and wiped my whole face as if I were a sweaty boxer who’d just gone to his corner to spit the blood out of his mouth into a bucket. And finally the camera man’s arms dropped to his side and his body slumped over with what I realized later was great relief. And exhaustion no doubt.

I went home with much praise to our God for helping me teach a difficult lesson and helping my class to appear to get it. And maybe even enjoy it. I told my coworker who was driving me home about the camera man chaos and pondered with her what it was about. No idea. I told her I’d check. I got into the house, grabbed my cell phone and called my director on the phone. “Buddy,” I said, “What in the world was all the waving about with the camera man?” Then he said it. “Have you ever seen anyone with white spittle in the corner of his mouth?” My heart dropped into my feet. (I’m laughing so hard I can hardly type. Please laugh with me. Even at me. Go ahead and enjoy this at my expense.) “Yes,” I said timidly and feeling a little light headed. “You had that tonight.”

Spittle. I had that last night.

Fabulous.

Only on one side, he assured me. On the opposite side from where my staff was sitting, explaining why they didn’t stop me and fix it. Which they would have. Because they’re women.

He said, “In all these years we’ve never had this with you. Are you doing something different or just feeling intense?” Actually, I was trying something different. I was trying spitting on myself during class. Not really. I was trying this brand new spray they make for singers and speakers that’s supposed to coat your throat and keep you from getting dry and coughing. I wish I’d read the warning label. I bet anything it says, “Can cause spittle.”

My director is hoping they can fix it in post-production so that those beyond my own patient, loving Houston class will not have to endure the pain of embarrassment for me. But he’s not sure they can.

I am writing to you because I told all this to AJ this morning. And having inherited my strange sense of humor, she said, “Mom, you HAVE to blog about it.” Particularly because of one thing I told her. I said, “Honey, it’s things like this that keep those who are closest to me and work with me from ever dreaming of being jealous of what I do.” My LPM staff shudders at the thought. The spittle nearly put them over the edge. This blog is for anyone out there still entertaining the least thought that you’d feel like a big shot if you did what speakers do. Or for anyone who, in your wildest imaginations, has ever been jealous of this job. Let me help you out here for a moment. Here are a few things I’ve been told through the years – and by those who LOVE ME VERY MUCH and who I LOVE LIKE CRAZY and who are just doing their jobs. And good ones at that. And need to continue to do them. But just so one or two of you can be free and get visions of glamour out of your head, here goes:

“You talk way too fast.”

“You move too much.”

“You jerk around too much. We can’t keep the camera on you.”

“You’ve gotten where you talk too loud but we’ve been discussing it and I think we’ve come up with why…”

“You talked WAY TOO LONG. How are we supposed to edit this?”

“I was so hoping that outfit would work on camera but it just didn’t. It kind of humped up in the back.”

“Remember to blot that sweat from time to time.”

“I think the redder lipstick makes your teeth look a tad whiter.”

“Were you tired in this session? You just didn’t seem to have the same energy. Are you getting enough sleep? Is there anything we can do?”

“Have you developed a back problem? You’ve kind of begun to hunch over when you teach.”

Then there was the new make-up artist hired recently for a product that was being done at a speaking event. She got me ready that morning then watched from the monitor as I taught the first session. She came running to me over the break like a bull out of the pen and headed straight for my nose and commenced to work on it for fifteen minutes. Shading. Powdering. Airbrushing. Sneezing. Then she said, “At least it’s not high def. That will help.”

And those are just the ones I can tell you.

He called it spittle.

PS. If anyone on any of my beloved film crews happens to read this entry, please laugh your heads off with me at all the awkward moments and painfully humbling circumstances God has given us through the years. They are GIFTS. Let’s embrace them. Celebrate with me that it hasn’t been easy. Comfortable. Or stale. We never have gotten the thing down. That’s a good thing. No a bad thing. We are utterly dependent on God to pull it off. Keep teaching me. Keep helping me. Keep humbling me. As one of you has often said, our critics are the guardians of our souls. Furthermore, it makes the nice things you say along the way and all your gracious kindnesses the stuff of blessing rather than ego. I need you badly and I love you madly. Don’t you dare let up. But don’t stop laughing either. It would be terminal to all of us.

Okay, I have to chime in about the Sabbath. Sabbath naps have always been of utmost importance in the Moore home. Mom was known to put a note on her door during her naptime reminding us of this fact. I’m sure I will take up this practice when I have children old enough to read. I don’t know about y’all, but I do not always wake up refreshed from my nap! More often than not, I need to have another quiet time to shake me out of the grumpies! But I usually eat a bowl of cereal in front of the TV until I snap out of it.

Yesterday I had a particularly inactive Sabbath since Jackson was sick during the night and he couldn’t go to church. After getting up about five times in the wee hours, He and I slept until 10:30! I felt like I was in college again.

By the time evening rolled around, I needed to get outside and see daylight. Perhaps I should have taken my mom’s words about enjoying a peaceful day to heart because our outing was a little more adventurous than we had planned.

Curtis, Jackson and I went for a leisurely stroll around the block – toddler in wagon, dog on leash, little plastic poop bag in back pocket because we’re responsible like that. We saw our two-doors-down neighbors greeting a visitor at their front door. I thought this might be a good time to make eye contact, smile, and wave since we’ve never properly met them. Suddenly their little black dog came running out of the house and jumped all over Beckham. Beckham went crazy because he is all about having fun and making new BFF’s. Curt stopped in his tracks so the owner’s son could catch their little dog and take him or her inside. And then our 80 pound golden retriever, a.k.a. the abominable snowman, a.k.a. jug head, squirmed out of his collar and RAN INTO THEIR HOUSE. AND CHASED THE LITTLE DOG THROUGHOUT THEIR LIVING ROOM. AND PEOPLE FLED THE HOUSE BECAUSE THEY WERE SO AFRAID. Nice to meet you, neighbors! Don’t mind us, we’re just training our dog to do some Sunday afternoon visitation!

Hey, my dear Siestas! Just checking in and seeing how my beloved sisters in Siestaville are doing. It’s a wonderful, lazy Sunday afternoon and I feel full and happy. Full of love because I’ve been with my wonderful church family today, worshipped Jesus with them, and sat with them under the teaching of our marvelous young pastor. Full of prime rib because I talked my man into taking me to Steak and Ale for lunch after church. It’s a steak chain that’s been around forever. If you’ve never heard of it, you probably have something like it in your area. Decor hasn’t changed in thirty years (dark English Tudor) but, thankfully, I like knowing what to expect. The best part is a big salad bar from yester-year with really chunky blue cheese dressing and croutons the size of a deck of cards. Keith and I hadn’t been in a gillion years because he’s too much of a steak snob but I absolutely love it. Steak and Ale was mighty fine, expensive dining back in the day when my high school boyfriend and I celebrated proms and birthdays. Still is.

Then we got home and did our usual routine. Keith went to hit golf balls (either does that or shoots clay pigeons) and I got back in my jammies and in the bed for a Sunday afternoon snooze. Then I sat on the couch with a cup of coffee and watched some of “Fiddler on the Roof.” So good! Laughed and laughed. (“God, I know we are Your chosen people but sometimes can’t You just choose someone else?”) Then Beanie whined to no end until I’d finally come out in the back yard with her. It’s a beautiful, breezy day. Not cool in Houston yet but at least it’s not a hundred zillion per cent humidity. Beanie loves it out here and so do I. She, Sunny, and I are the original Backyardigans. Like a proper birddog, she intermittently sunbathes and then, like a greyhound, jolts up and runs a frantic relay around the yard at full speed, stopping every twenty feet or so to dig in a frenzy while I yell, “Get out of my flower beds!”

Yep, it’s a wonderful Sunday afternoon at the Moore house. Nothing exciting happening and maybe right about now that’s what makes it wonderful. If I’d sit here a while, I could muster up some anxiety over all sorts of things, get all scared over the Tuesday night taping, and even get mad at somebody if I wanted to. But I don’t. Sometimes you just make a choice. I love that line in the movie Tombstone – NOT recommending it, just saying I like the line – when the sheriff tries to arrest Wyatt after a bad shoot-out when he’d put his life on the line and he said something like, “I’m not in the mood to let you arrest me today.” I’m just not in the mood to let the devil arrest me today. I choose peace.

I pray a few minutes of peace and calm over your house. You have to catch them when you can. For those of you who have a house full of younguns, you may not remember what calm is. I didn’t either when I was in your season of life. It’s overrated at times anyway. I’d cash all the calm in the world in for a certain twenty-month old to run through my house, babbling to beat the band. I had the best time with him this week! He is a force to be reckoned with. Talking like crazy. Developing into his own little person and getting as attached to us as we are to him. He cried so hard when his mommy pulled away in the car and we nearly did, too. I was so sad to put up the ten trillion toys all over the house (I think I’m in the mood to exaggerate today) and to fold up his blankets and put them neatly in his crib till next visit. I sure wish I’d been at his house today. His daddy preached at their church and I do dearly love to hear my son-in-law preach.

Well, I just wanted to say hi. Nothing important to bring today. Just taking a break. Feeling me some Sabbath. And basking for just a moment in a Savior who says, “Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.”

I love you a hundred quadrillion.

I had such a fun birthday weekend. Friday night while Mom and Dad were at the taping, Curtis, Jackson and I went to a pumpkin patch. Jackson ran wild and wore us out beyond imagination.

Jackson did A LOT of running.

Like I said, A LOT of running.

He liked the scarecrow.

These were my pumpkin selections. Jackson was beginning to have a meltdown and the small pumpkin was about to be thrown.

Thank God for the wagons.

Must…escape…quickly!

On Saturday we headed over to the Life Today studios so that we could watch Mom from the greenroom, let her introduce Jackson to the audience, and meet some of our blog siestas who were there. It did not go as planned. We were running late and as soon as we walked in the door I took Jackson out to “meet” the audience. He is normally very outgoing and Mr. Smiley, but he got overwhelmed and started crying. He didn’t speak to me for a few hours after that. By the time we left, the greenroom had been completely toddler-proofed. He was really in no state to hang around and visit, so we slipped out after the session. I did, however, get to meet Anita from Kansas on the way out!

Mom on the TV in the greenroom.

Jackson, mad at his mother, was very enthusiastic about his daddy and his pappaw.

Mom is talking to Jackson through the TV.

That evening my parents babysat Jackson while Curt took me on a date. We went to one of my favorite restaurants in Dallas – Ziziki’s. It’s a Greek restaurant down in the Knox-Henderson area and I highly recommend it. We had Ziziki bread, chicken and mushroom fettuccine (not very Greek, but very good), and the crowning glory – baklava ice cream cake. It was so yummy!

When we walked in the front door at home, I immediately discerned that baking had occurred. It smelled so amazing! I could not believe that my mom taught all day long, then went grocery shopping, and baked me a cake. Have I mentioned before that my favorite food is cake? That was an unfortunate byproduct of my wedding planning days. I did not hesitate to have cake twice in one night. I was told that Jackson got to lick one of the beaters and that it was the highlight of his life so far. I don’t doubt it.

Let me tell you about my birthday cake. Mom bought icing and those little sugar decorations as well as color coordinating plates, cups, and napkins. She had grand visions of how it would look. Sadly, the icing did not cooperate. What was supposed to be “Happy Birthday Amanda” turned out to be “H B A.” See for yourself. You really should enlarge it for the full effect. It got us all really tickled. The cake may have lacked a tiny bit in visual impact, but it had a flavor anointing. Oh my word, it was good! I think the memory of my birthday cake will stick with me forever.

Go ahead. You can laugh with us.

One last thing. Jackson did not quite get his granny’s name down, but he did say Pappaw! He also tried, for the first time, to say/repeat “I love you.” He was practicing the sound of my mom’s name last night after she had gone, so I think we are close!

I am sitting here on the couch in my jammies, Beanie snuggling right beside me, feeling a flood of gratitude for so many things. On the top of my list…

A community of Siestas who prayed like maniacs for me this weekend for the Life Today taping and God heard them. He restrained my cough and cold and did not let me feel achy and fluish like I had the previous few days. He gave me a terrific studio audience (including three of our darling Siestas!) made up of people who didn’t just come to be part of a show. They came to be part of a move of God. Your prayers were practically palpable. I cannot thank you enough. The loved one in such bondage that AJ asked you to intercede for has not resurfaced yet but, considering the power of such prayer, I can’t imagine that she is easily resisting an encounter with Christ.

A staff of some of the most exceptional women of God I have ever known in my life at Living Proof Ministries. They work hard without complaining. They are as different as night and day but as thick as blood. They are free to go anywhere and with anyone they want for workday lunch but most of the time, they choose to go together en mass. They are lavish in their love and support for one another, for me, and for the women they serve. They can talk a hundred miles an hour without a single word of gossip. Amazing. They are a rare breed. And all because they dig the Lord Jesus. Every single one of them is living proof that God’s Word totally transforms lives and resets paths.

Two incredible daughters who inspire me and spill my life with unspeakable joy and each as much as the other. I became a mom 28 years ago this evening. I had only been married 9 months and 3 weeks and it was not going well. I was terrified and deeply troubled and trying to act like I had it all together. Then something not even as big as a good bass, as Keith used to say, interrupted everything. I have never been as disarmed in my life as I was when the labor and delivery nurse placed that seven pound three ounce newborn daughter on my chest. When we had our first minutes alone a few hours later, I carefully unwrapped her, studied her tiny little arms and legs, hands and feet, then baptized her in tears. I could not imagine how something so pure could have come from someone like me. My life changed dramatically 28 years ago. It would be a number of years before I’d trust Christ enough to break out of that prison cell of bondage I was in but, that day 28 years ago, a ray of sunlight came through the window that made me know a different life was out there…and worth fighting for.

A life worth you fighting for, too. And you don’t have to have a baby to convince you. You could just take God at His Word. It can be considerably less painful.

Hey, girls! I am so excited right now because (A) It feels somewhat like a
fall day in North Texas! AND (B) My parents are coming to visit this
weekend! Mom has a taping at Life Today, which is not far from my house.
Jackson and I will pick her up from the airport in about 8 hours. But who’s
counting? Jackson is suddenly saying lots of words and I can’t wait for him to
show off for her. Maybe he’ll even say her name this time!

My mom wanted me to ask you if you’d please come alongside her in prayer this
weekend for the taping. She is still amazed over the grace of God to have the
opportunity to serve with James and Betty and is getting to do the very thing
she loves most: encourage people who may never have been to Bible study in
their lives to develop a hunger and thirst to know Christ through Scripture.
She also loves the size of the studio audience and the fact that she can
actually touch the women she’s getting to teach.

In the midst of all these innumerable blessings is a very challenging taping schedule. She will prepare and deliver five different messages in a very short span of time. She also is dealing with a cold that Jackson dropped off at her house a few weeks ago. After going through the rest of the family, it finally landed on her
over the weekend. Please ask God to release her cold, relieve her cough, and
show His glory through her. You can imagine how important that will be on
Friday and Saturday when she is working her throat so hard. Even in normal
health, she is usually a bit hoarse by the end of these tapings. Pray that she will be well, energetic, and best able to serve. Mom told me that the last audience they had at a Life Today taping was her best yet. Please ask God to bring her another group like that one – very participatory and eager to get a Word. May the Spirit fall on them in an incredible way. Thank you so much, sisters. You have no idea how much she loves you. She will be greatly encouraged to know that you are praying.

There’s one other matter of prayer that I’d like to mention. We have an
extended family situation that has been a huge concern for at least five
years. Right now a dearly loved family member is in dire need of
deliverance. It could be getting very close to a life or death situation. I
know the power of your prayers because when you all prayed for my grandpa
earlier this summer, he had a recovery that was nothing short of a miracle. It
was as if Jesus pulled him up off of his death bed and gave him new life. He has not been this strong and joyful in many, many years. He is a sight to see! Praise God! And he cannot stop talking about what God has done for him. All that to say, I
am eager to ask for your prayers on behalf of our other loved one, too. I know our whole family could use an extra portion of faith and peace in the matter. As you all know, it can be hard to persevere in long-term, faith-filled prayer. May He give us all some fresh faith over our circumstances, in Jesus’ name!

Thank you, sisters! Y’all are simply amazing. And isn’t our Father the best?

Hey, My Sweet Siestas!
A few days ago I received this picture that someone took in September at the Deeper Still conference. I thought I’d share it with you because it’s got some folks in it I severely love. That’s me and my buddies, Lisa Whelchel and Priscilla Shirer, in the forefront. I am wild about both of them. Priscilla was on the program with Kay and I that weekend (I so wish Kay were in the picture with us!) and Lisa had come to participate, receive a word, and show support for her friends. She, truly, is one of the best friends to people I have ever seen. Priscilla, Lisa, and I are pretty close. (With me that’s a relative term because…well, because of a lot of things, schedules mostly. Quit trying to get me off track here.) We stay as in touch as we can with our crazy schedules. We pray for one another as we travel and speak and usually know what city the other is serving in. Lisa and Priscilla live in the same area and get to be together a lot more than all three of us do, but they embrace me as their buddy and make me feel loved and included in their journeys with Christ.

That fellow in the background of the picture is certainly not in the background of my life. That’s my man and I don’t have to tell you how crazy I am about him. He’s not with me at an event very often because he makes me danged nervous. For the most part, I’ve settled the issue about not needing the approval of a group, but I still struggle with wanting his. And I have it…but sometimes it’s just awkward to have him sitting on that front row and if he says the least critical thing afterward, I’m promptly devastated. You keep getting me off track. Anyway, Keith calls Priscilla, Lisa, and me “Prissy, Sissy, and Missy” and it always makes me laugh.

And, quickly, about that last post on the fashion news: You guys are so much fun. I got a huge kick out of your responses. I’d like to say a three things in response to your responses:

1. I was really moved by the homeschooling mom who asked us to pray for her and said, “I still haven’t figured out if homeschooling is one word or two.” If you happen to be reading today, I just wanted to hug you to pieces. And tell you that you are some kind of woman. Siestas, pray for homeschooling moms today. They have a tough and important job. (If you’re thinking about homeschooling, check out this page on Lisa Whelchel’s web site.)

2. Speaking of being “some kind of woman,” I’d like to respond to our beloved sister who wrote in and said that she was a tomboy and just trying to get a little more comfortable with her own womanhood. As much as I tease about lip gloss and shoes, I want you to know that if you have two X chromosomes, I am your servant. You don’t ever have to put on a pair of capris as long as you live and you’ll still be a real woman to me (far more than that, to CHRIST who created you) and I’ll still feel called to serve you the Word if you’ll let me. To tell you the truth, Christian womanhood is hard for all of us. That’s why we’re doing this thing together. You are welcome here and I love you dearly.

3. That brown jacket several of you asked me about in “Loving Well” was from the store “Forever XXI” (which, of course, we’re not) and you’ll be pleased to know that it was also a steal. BUT, it’s a few years old so I don’t think you’ll find it on the shelf any more. I surely would let you borrow it if I could! I got it in green, too.

Stay in the Word!!! I love you profusely.