Gindi Vincent

The Dish on Career, Fashion, Faith, and Family

Family

Fear

by Leave a Comment

I write a lot about fear.

It’s one of my tormentors.

I’ve mentioned this before, but I come from a long line of worriers, and I think I’m actually a little better than they even were.

Past blogs have tackled the difference between being fearful or scared, fear and worry that grips you over your kids, getting caught up in the minutiae and paralyzed by fear, and heck, I even wrote an entire 10 part bible study series called Breaking Fear!

After yesterday’s post on how we are all disappointed, I woke up this morning, ready to write again, and this word sat on me. Again.

Fear.

What really got me thinking about it was watching little bit on horseback with her brothers last night.

You see, she has been obsessed with horses since I can remember. She was on grandpa’s horse, Batman, as soon as she could walk, I have pictures on her walls of her on the assorted horses from farm and ranch life the past ten years.

But there’s a break in those photos. Probably for about two years.

We had family friends at the farm. She was riding with her friend who was two years younger. The saddle must not have been cinched tight enough, and when they brought Peanut in for some water, the saddle slid sideways and both girls fell onto the concrete base of the water trough. They were bumped up with a few minor boo-boos, but there was longer term damage.

Fear set in.

Something in her little brain told her that getting back up on the horse could result in her falling and getting hurt again. So when they would saddle the horses, she would decline the invitation. In time, she would be led around by her dad or aunt, but she wouldn’t just take off on a horse like she had done before the fall.

She still loved horses. But fear stopped her from doing what she wanted to do.

I think we are all intimately acquainted with fear these days. In addition to whatever political or justice fears we may have, every one of us (around the world) are united by a fear of a tiny spiky virus we know as COVID-19.

That fear is resulting in numerous reactions from complete isolation for fear of infection to complete denial of consequences and acting like nothing has changed.

Fear has shadowed our decisions about what to do about sending our kids to school or not. (I’m fearful they’ll get sick or get us sick if they go 🆚 I’m fearful they’ll struggle emotionally if they don’t have social interaction.)

Fear has set in to our workplaces. Our churches. Our neighborhoods.

And since fear sells, Lord knows that the news is using fear, on both sides of the political spectrum and even in apolitical spaces.

So what do we do about it?

I sat with that question this morning while my daughter threw on her boots and raced out with her brothers to saddle horses and go chase a bull that got loose (that sentence gives me fear!).

She chooses the gentlest horse now. She doesn’t get in the pens with the cows where the horse is more likely to hop or kick. Her horse doesn’t gallop quite as quickly as the ones the boys ride, and she’s happy about that.

She has chosen to do what she loves again, but to do it safely.

Could she still get hurt? Absolutely. Does she know that? Of course.

But she has chosen a course of action that enables her to get back to her first love: horses. Her passion was bigger than her fear, eventually.

This will look different for each of us.

What drives me, what will beat back my fear, will be different than what drives you to overcome your fears.

I wrote yesterday I’ve been stuck in a bog. Maybe some of that bog was disappointment but a huge big sticky mess of it was fear.

We are making the best decisions we can. And our decisions will look different than yours. We decided to send our kids back to school. We are some of the few who actually have that as an option and our small private school has done so much to keep the amazing teachers and students safe. The boys are slowly putting their toes back into the sports world, outdoors of course, while little bit will wait until basketball season (which we pray will be able to proceed, but we know none of us know).

I pray for wisdom. For wisdom to make wise choices that are greater than the fear buzzing in my brain. I know Matthew 6 tells me I cannot add a single hour to my life by worrying.

I pray I would remember the 2 Timothy 1 gift God has already given me: God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

The Ephesians 6 strength.

The 1 John 4 love.

I’ll slowly get back on my horse armed with strength and love and a sound mind and ride off in the direction God leads.

Disappointed

by Leave a Comment

Last night, the boys laid out fishing poles and lures across the weathered farm table. Bray bought bobbers and fresh line. Grandpa restrung favorite poles.

We’re at the farm this weekend. 

The boys LOVE to fish.  Everyone fishes around here, but they’re particularly obsessed.  Bray and I had both had a long and draining week.  I was looking forward to sleeping in while he was looking forward to waking at 5 am to take the boys out on the boat.  Through the bayous in the little metal boat and into Calcaseiu Lake where local tales were that the water had cleared and fishing was getting good. 

Little bit and I heard them rustling this morning.  Five am alarms.  Clothes already laid out.  Ice chest filled to spend half a day on the lake.  She crawled into bed with me while they headed out in the darkness. 

It didn’t make sense to me when I was wrested out of my sleep by boy noise a little later.  Morning light was dim.  I glanced at my clock.  Not even 7:30.  Yet there a boy sat on my bed.  The motor wouldn’t turn over, he announced.  We didn’t get to go. 

You could see the disappointment etched into his face.  They were all so excited.  The first fishing trip in months that held any promise.  No motor = no trip. 

A second boy filed in.  I’m so sorry, buddy, I said into his forlorn face.  No you’re not, he bitterly retorted and slouched out of the room while I rolled over to go back to sleep.  (I was sad for them, but I was also really tired.)

As I laid there, I started thinking about how most of 2020 our spirits, even if not our faces, have worn that deep disappointment. 

I looked at this little blog and saw the last time I wrote was nearly two months ago.  Not that things haven’t happened.  But it’s like I’ve been trapped in a bog.  What do you write when you’re trapped in a bog?

I’m staring at my desk calendar for August with all these back to school photos from last year – posing in front of signs, hugging teachers…

Now, even though we’re going back, we’re among the very few in our city, I still have dear friends steeling to teach their kids (again) with distance learning through mid-October. 

We all have friends or family who have been laid off or who are struggling with the effects of the virus (or worse) or who can’t sell their house or who can’t decide whether to check the distance or in-person box for their school district. We’re mourning injustices and losses and simply trying to survive another election year.

Our emotions are taking many different forms: depression, anger, sadness, detachment, frustration, impatience…

Deeply rooted under all of this though: DISAPPOINTED.

We are disappointed life does not look like we hoped it would or think it should.

So, now what?

Well, first let’s be really honest.  This next year is not going to look like we hoped.  We will not get to go on that gorgeous vacation we planned. We won’t get to eat lunch with our kids at school on their birthday. The big milestone birthday party or wedding will get canceled.  Things at work or home or with our friends won’t look how we want (or need).

But then. After acknowledging the reality. We have to look forward.  And reconnect to our faith. 

Oftentimes in hard times, I lean heavily on God and my faith.  But I will be honest with you, I haven’t done that lately.  I’ve read a lot of fiction. I’ve watched Hallmark movies.  I’ve cooked new recipes and drank too much wine. I haven’t spent much time in prayer or studying scripture or in stillness to see how God might be able to use this pruning season in my life.  I can’t explain the reaction, but that truth hit me this morning. 

So friend, we’re in this together.  Hold on – to your rope and to each other.  This is a season.  We are all allowed to be disappointed and all the other emotions which flow from that one. 

But then we have to look forward.  We must hope.  Hope even when it seems impossible. This is not Pollyanna, slap a smile on it, find an easy sound bite, hope. This is ugly, painful, crying, not-wanting-to-get-out-of-bed-but-doing-it-anyway, hope. This is mourning while knowing joy WILL come in the morning.

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. (Romans 5 – NIV)

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. This is what the ancients were commended for. By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible. (Hebrews 11 – NIV)

Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening?
God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine.
He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts.
Those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind. (Isaiah 40 – Msg)

All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. …waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy. Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good. (Romans 8 – Msg)

What’s On My Stovetop

by Leave a Comment

Yesterday, we talked books!

Oh how I love books!

But there is something that rivals my love of books: COOKING! AND BAKING!

I love to be in the kitchen and I’ve had a lot more time to be in the kitchen. 

At the beginning of the pandemic, we baked a lot.  I also gained a lot of weight.  While we tried a number of new recipes, hand’s down my favorite recipe was Ina Garten’s cheesecake.  It is fail proof.  You do need a springform pan – ours didn’t get a lot of use before because I was terrified of cheesecake.  And you do have to do the bit about letting it sit with the oven door open at the end.  We didn’t do raspberry though.  We made her base and the first time we topped it with fresh strawberries (YUM!) and the second time we topped it with a lemon curd I found through Southern Living (also yum and another new technique, CURD!).  Bray never hands out compliments and he said this cheesecake was amazing!

(We also tried out a lot of cake recipes, I have a strawberry lemon cake and a carrot bunny butt cake recipe if you’d like it!)

As temperatures have heated up though, I’ve wanted cool things for dinner.  So less of my chicken enchiladas and pot pie (though those still make appearances, it’s just rarer) and more salads and crisp dinner features. 

I love gazpacho.  So I started with that.  You know I’m obsessed with the Pioneer Woman, so I started with her gazpacho recipe, but I also added a couple of adjustments from Ina Garten’s recipe, and I added more cucumber because it’s the freshest, and I added a little red pepper to add some more spice. 

On the salad front, I’ve tried several, but nothing beats a cobb salad.  They are simple but spectacularly delicious and everyone in my family gobbles them down.  They’re all avocado/egg/tomato/bacon enthusiasts.  The only adjustment I make for the kids is the blue cheese which Bray and I love.  I follow the Pioneer Woman’s suggestion down to the letter except I did not make our own salad dressing (wah-wah, but in the summer you just want to be outside). 

To round out my summer cooking list, I’ll highlight my deviled eggs and potato salad. 

I never have enough deviled eggs.  I sit them out before lunch or dinner and they are gone before we can even fill our plates.  We all five LOVE deviled eggs.  I use a pretty basic recipe.  I boil a half dozen eggs, which makes 12 deviled eggs, but clearly I need to boil an entire dozen instead.  However, this base is for a half dozen total eggs.  I don’t have exact measurements but I use a little less than ÂĽ cup of real mayonnaise and a more than a tablespoon of yellow mustard – you’ll see this theme in my potato salad too – I like them more mustard-y than mayo-y.  Then I add dill pickle relish to taste, at least a tablespoon.  I pour in a splash of dill pickle juice and then salt and pepper and mix together.  After filling the eggs, I top with paprika.  MMMMMM!

For potato salad, it’s not very exact either.  I make big batches when Bray’s family gets together.  I use, big surprise here, the Pioneer Woman’s recipe as my template.  Except I use more potatoes, less mayo, and more mustard.  She calls for 1 ½ cups of mayo and 4 tbsp of yellow mustard.  I would say I don’t use more than a cup of mayo, and I use more than 4 tbsp of yellow mustard as well as a splash of Dijon mustard.  I absolutely love dumping in a bunch of sliced small dill pickles (never sweet for me) and because I add more potatoes I also add more egg.  Further, I only partially peel my potatoes because I like some skin on and I prefer red potatoes to russet.  Finally I just cut and mash them after they come out of the pot because I prefer there to be some chunks in my potato salad rather than just having it smooth. 

So that’s what I’m cooking right now. 

What about you?

I love new recipes!!! Please share what you are baking or cooking over the pandemic and we’ll take some pictures of us making it!

Hard Conversations: The Ugly Internet

by 2 Comments

Yesterday, I talked about one of the hardest conversations we’ve been having as a family.  The one where we discuss racial injustice in our country. 

But it’s not the only hard conversation I’ve been having. 

This one, I haven’t had with the kids yet because, quite frankly, they are 10 and I have no idea how to have it. 

Bray and I have discussed for a number of years allowing the kids to have a phone in 6th grade (that’s just over a year away now), primarily to be able to reach us during after school sports practices and events.  No social media or data plans, simply a phone that enables contact. 

Let me start this particular hard conversation by saying I know parents are ALL over the map on this one.  In fact, there are very few issues where people are MORE all over the map than this one.  Some kids got phones in kindergarten and some didn’t ever get them.  This is a personal decision, and this is not a judgment zone, merely a seeking zone. 

The kids have long accepted this even though many of their friends (certainly the majority) got phones this past year.  One even commented to me on how useless the social media talk was at school because he knew he was never getting it.  (Ha!)

Now that we are approaching this period, I am talking to parents who have gone before me and seeing ways they have implemented protective rules and guidelines.  I have some ideas but I love hearing what has worked. 

I recently had one of those conversations with a mom of two teens.  I have known her a long time and she’s educated and involved with her kids.  But her question to me rocked me and I’ve been sitting with what’s next ever since. 

I told her we were delaying phones and then prohibiting social media for even longer.  She started talking about a free porn site where anyone can pull up images of porn on the internet regardless of your phone controls.  She suggested that if my kids hadn’t seen it yet, they surely would, as even if they didn’t have a phone, one of their friends would thrust it in their face. 

Then she said this, “You have to get to the point where you ask, do I want my kids to be popular or do I want to keep them from seeing porn?”

Let’s just sit with that question.

One I’m sure my parents friends never posed.

Let’s tackle the first bit. It has NEVER been a goal of our parenting to try to advance the kids popularity.  Both my husband and I were affirmatively unpopular and we survived.  Yes, it was painful, but we’re better humans for it (I like to think).

Our parenting goals are ambitious, but popularity is not on the list.  On the long list of parenting goals, we are seeking to build curiosity, a strong faith in Jesus, diverse interests, healthy practices, optimism, hard work, resilience, and a sense of love and security from their home base.

I want them to embrace their uniqueness and not feel compelled to conform.  That likely stands in direct opposition to popularity which feels a lot like an exercise in conformity. 

Further, in a world gone mad, whose priorities are utterly askew, I believe it could be incredibly challenging to “hang with the in crowd” and prioritize the actions Jesus compels us to take.

So, if we set the popularity piece aside, we are left with ready access to porn. 

And if not porn on their device, then porn shown from someone else’s device. 

So now what?

I do not know. 

I can tell you this – I do not want to have conversations about porn with my 10 year olds. 

I realize the ages of all these hard conversations are advancing, and we’ve had talks about boys and girls and babies and bodies and what God tells us and what science tells us every summer for three years.  Each summer, becoming progressively more informative as their maturing brains can process.

However, I’m in my 40s and cannot process porn, so I’m not sure how to tackle with children what’s out there electronically. 

Of course we have had safety conversations.  They are familiar with the concept of online predators.  But what about what just pops up? On the internet.  In movies.  In their ethos. 

And even if they don’t have data on their phones, we all know that they can get online with internet access most places now. 

So Bray and I have started this hard conversation with each other.  And then we’ll have it with the kids before they ever receive a phone. 

We are reading resources like Screenager about conversation starters and guardrails.  But I would welcome your insight.  You parents of teens who are a few years ahead of us on the road.  Within those conversation starters, whether on social media or here, I would ask for no judgment of other parents.  We’re all doing the best we can. 

On the spectrum, we are going to be at the stricter end.  If you’ve walked that path, and fought those fights, and had those hard conversations, I would love to learn. 

This is uncharted territory.  And it makes me sad.  Sad for innocence lost.  Sad to live in an age when there is so much BLECK thrust in our faces.  But we will chart this course and pray for wisdom.

Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. Philippians 4:8-9

Easter 2020: The One In Quarantine

by Leave a Comment

It was a really good Easter. No dressing up, at least not much. No heading to church with the family. No big extended family Easter lunch.

And yet.

It was good.

I was pretty sad about the whole thing because I really love Easter. For us, and our faith, it’s the culmination of the whole story. The crescendo.

Plus, I often host our extended family or our friends and I cook and bake and love the house brimming with loved ones.

Saturday, I baked treats with the kids. And it actually turned out (you may recall my Easter endeavors don’t always -may I remind you of macaroni and cheese from scratch or other rice krispie efforts). We had a precious bunny butt cake, rice krispie eggs with jelly bean surprise, and sugar cookies.

A local club had a drive through Easter parade which we drove through to see the Easter bunny and receive Easter treats (I know our days are numbered on the kids enjoying this).

They walked the dog and swam and went on bike rides.

We woke up Sunday morning to Easter basket treats, sans basket, and they went on an Easter egg hunt as is our morning tradition.

Little bit negotiated a 27.5% purchased stake in the boys lemonade business which was absolutely a delight to watch (these negotiators, keep an eye out for them all).

We watched our church and some other church services as well.

I cried as I watched Andrea Bocelli perform solo at the Duomo. Especially his closing of Amazing Grace on the steps.

We had a big lunch and I tried out new recipes. Roasted turkey roulade and spiced carrots and lemon butter asparagus. My mom came and sat at the end of the table at a respectable distance but we weren’t going to have her eating lunch all by herself!

We took naps and colored Easter eggs and really enjoyed being together.

Easter was different. But we were so incredibly fortunate. We were together. We were healthy. As we said our prayers, we acknowledged what a rare gift it is to have a house and to have jobs and to have a refrigerator full of food. I’ve certainly been through holidays that didn’t have any of those.

So our quarantine Easter looked different, but it was good. These quieter days are reminding us what life could look like. What we should leave out when things go back to “normal.” What we should treasure. Where we should invest our energy.