Comfort Food

Being "single" (I hate using that term) again, I've had to learn how to cook for myself. I'm not all that creative, but I do enjoy seeing how I put my own stamp on an old favorite. Here's a recipe I developed last night, and it turned out excellently:

Timotheus' Hearty Meatloaf
(reduced sodium)
adapted from a old recipe with modifications inspired by Alton Brown

1 pound ground chuck
1 pound ground sirloin
3/4 c. uncooked oatmeal (quick or old-fashioned)
1 medium onion, finely chopped
1/2 c. catsup
1/4 c. milk
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 tsp. ground black pepper
1 Tbsp. prepared horseradish
------
1/2 c. catsup
3 Tbsp. dark brown sugar
2 tsp. prepared spicy brown mustard
1 Tbsp. prepared horseradish

Combine the first 9 ingredients in a large bowl. Combine thoroughly, but avoid compressing the meat.
Use a large loaf (10 inch) loaf pan to mold the loaf shape.
Onto a parchment paper-lined baking sheet, turn the meatloaf out of the pan onto the center of the tray.
(Alternatively, use two small (7.5") loaf pans.)
Bake at 350F degrees for 40 minutes.

Combine the last 4 ingredients; spoon over meat loaf and bake 15 more minutes (or until meat thermometer registers 155F degrees.)

Sodium content: 400mg/serving

"It Didn't Happen"

From an interview with John Kerry: http://www.chicagotribune.com/news/nationworld/chi-kerry_zuckmanjul23,1,7201443,full.story?ctrack=2&cset=true

Opponents of the withdrawal proposal argue that Iraq would be left in chaos and that genocide would occur as a result.

"We heard that argument over and over again about the bloodbath that would engulf the entire Southeast Asia, and it didn't happen," Kerry said, dismissing the charge out of hand as he argued that the American presence only makes the situation worse every day.

This is what John Kerry says "didn't happen" in VietNam:
http://www.dartcenter.org/dartaward/2002/hm3/01.html

To corroborate the experiences of refugees now living in Orange County, the Register interviewed dozens of former inmates and their families, both in the United States and Vietnam; analyzed hundreds of pages of documents, including testimony from more than 800 individuals sent to jail; and interviewed Southeast Asian scholars. The review found:

* An estimated 1 million people were imprisoned without formal charges or trials.

* 165,000 people died in the Socialist Republic of Vietnam's re-education camps, according to published academic studies in the United States and Europe.

* Thousands were abused or tortured: their hands and legs shackled in painful positions for months, their skin slashed by bamboo canes studded with thorns, their veins injected with poisonous chemicals, their spirits broken with stories about relatives being killed.

* Prisoners were incarcerated for as long as 17 years, according to the U.S. Department of State, with most terms ranging from three to 10 years.

* At least 150 re-education prisons were built after Saigon fell 26 years ago.

* One in three South Vietnamese families had a relative in a re-education camp.

Don't worry folks, according to John Kerry, "it didn't happen."

And what of Cambodia?
http://www.csmonitor.com/2005/0414/p09s02-coop.html

When the Khmer Rouge victoriously entered Phnom Penh 30 years ago, many people greeted the rebels with a cautious optimism, weary from five years of civil war that had torn apart their lives and killed hundreds of thousands of Cambodians. All of the city dwellers were sent to live and work in the countryside, joining the peasantry in one of the most radical revolutions in history.

During the nearly four years following that day - April 17, 1975 - Cambodia was radically transformed. Economic production and consumption were collectivized, as Pol Pot and his circle mobilized the entire population to launch a "super great leap forward." The labor demanded was backbreaking, monotonous, and unceasing.

Everyday freedoms were abolished. Buddhism and other forms of religious worship were banned. Money, markets, and media disappeared. Travel, public gatherings, and communication were restricted. Contact with the outside world vanished. And the state set out to control what people ate and did each day, whom they married, how they spoke, what they thought, and who would live and die. "To keep you is no gain," the Khmer Rouge warned, "To destroy you is no loss."

In the end, more than 1.7 million of Cambodia's 8 million inhabitants perished from disease, starvation, overwork, or outright execution in a notorious genocide.

No, matter... "It didn't happen."

A thought

During B's illness, there were many times that I thought I would gladly take her place, and I meant that literally. I often asked God "Why her and not me?" I can honestly say that I would have taken her place without hesitation.

However, in looking back at it now, I can say that I'm glad that it was me that was left behind, and not her. I would not have put her through these dark and lonely days, not for anything.

Life will go on, it will get better. I know that. But until then, it's awfully hard.

I hate hypocrisy

Let's get this straight: Sheryl Crow can tour the country with a caravan of 3 tractor trailers and 4 buses (http://www.thesmokinggun.com/backstagetour/scrow/scrow4.html)
but she wants us to limit ourselves to one square of toilet paper? (http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/6583067.stm)

A good day

My youngest just came home. All is right with the world.

Survivors

Last night I went to a party for dear friend, the wife of my former pastor. It marked the 5th anniversary of her survival from pancreatic cancer. Five years is the "brass ring" for us. If we can be in remission for 5 years, we're "cured" (but we're always on guard for the beast.)

The joy of my pastor in reaching this milestone with her was obvious. I hope that twinge of jealousy that I momentarily felt wasn't. Why does he still have his mate, and why am I alone? It didn't seem fair. I shook off that feeling before it could fester, though. I wanted to rejoice with them.

My five-year point was reached in May of 2006. B and I both had appointments that day. I got the good news of "no more CT scans needed" -- but it just more bad news for her; yet another treatment had failed to reduce the liver tumor.

I couldn't wallow in my own pity-party, though. Also present was a young widow with a new-born baby. Her husband had died suddenly when she was only a couple months pregnant with their first child. That little baby looked so much like her daddy. We talked a while. We understood each other. We shared the difficulty of going on, of being the ones left behind. The struggle to find a purpose to get up out of bed in the morning. How even getting dressed is burden. I may write more on this later.

Finding Hope in Tragedy

My pastor preached on the topic "Hope" this past Sunday. He called me when I was in Indiana on business, told me his outline, and asked if I could make the last point for him. I was a little hesitant, but I agreed to do it. God was good, and gave me the strength to be able to get through it.

CPCWarrior told me I needed to post it. I don't always do what I'm told, but I will today.

---
Finding Hope in Tragedy

Good morning. My name is [Timotheus], and as most of you know, we lost my wife B this past November after a two year battle with cancer. It has been an incredible loss for me and my family -- [The Captain], [The Law Student], and [The Violinist]. Those of you who haven't lost your soul mate have no idea how tremendously difficult it is; I can't even begin to explain.

B was unique. Some wondered how the two of us ever got together. Some called us "The Odd Couple." Someone once commented that "B is the life of your life's party." In so many ways that's true. I didn't have to make any friends -- B made them for me.

During B's illness, there were times when I was driven to the brink of despair. There were times I would rage. One time I yelled until I had no voice left. I do have to say that if it was not for God being there, I -- we -- could not have made it. Through all that time we were going through that, and not just then, but now as well -- probably even more so -- God gave me three precious gifts that I want to tell you about this morning.

First of all, He gave me the gift of His presence. In times of darkness, in the utter loneliness, God speaks through His Word. He was there in the constant procession of precious friends who gave encouragement, and prayed with us, loving us and our children. I don't know how I could have made it during those last weeks without Pastor and J.S. making arrangements so that I could give B the care she needed. Our church family and T.F. always made sure we had food. I think there's still one more meal in the freezer. I'm glad we didn't have to go through this alone.

The second gift was the gift of purpose. I don't have it all figured out just yet, it's not fully revealed -- maybe it never will be -- but I can see how God used Bonnie and me to strengthen other people. I remember standing by B's bedside that last Sunday morning and asking God why she was lingering, and the answer came to mind as clearly as if I'd heard it audibly: "B is still ministering to people." Later that day, Dr. F. told me that in all the years that he had been at the hospital that he had never seen a patient touch the lives of the staff like B and our family did. Now, we still don't see everything, it's still rather vague, like the tapestry that Pastor mentioned in his message. [Pastor had told me that he would be using the illustration of a tapestry seen from the back side in his message, so I tied that in.]

The third gift is the promise of that place that He has prepared for me. During B's memorial service, Pastor imitated B jumping for joy as she entered into heaven. I'm sure she did just that. And when, some day, I see her again, whether I die or whether through Christ's return, I'm sure she'll be excited to introduce me to all the new friends she's made there.

God still has a plan for me here, but I look forward to that day. Sometimes I hunger for it. God has given me a hope and assurance that this world cannot even begin to comprehend.