Keeping up with the Castilles:: Debt, Dancing, and Deaconization

Hello, my sweet family and friends!

Obligatory bluebonnet picture. The sun was bright. :P

It's been a while since I visited this little patch of internet. The sheer volume of documents at work has kept my fingers tapping constantly, and they feel the ache of repetitive motion by the end of the day. Most evenings, I can't wait to grab my gym bag and give my body a chance to sweat out the stiffness of a day spent sitting. 

Not only does my body shun the thought of sitting at the computer, sometimes words are just...gone.

For a highly verbal external processor who majored in Communication, it is an odd feeling to reach inside and find nothing.

Uhhhhhhh...me no have words. Come back later. 

But the Lord has been good. In the middle of the constant phone ringing at work, I feel His presence. When I'm feverishly typing out thirty emails, processing over a hundred new documents, and telling the tenth student in a row how to run a degree evaluation, He is with me, giving me gentleness when I just don't have any left to give out.

And He keeps giving me times of refreshing. There was a recent tickle fight with my husband. There were tacos shared at our tiny table with friends. And check out the new flowers popping up in my garden!

But since it's been a while--and because last week enjoyd a rare vacation in Dallas and had some time to work on a post--I thought I should take the chance to catch you up on some recent highlights. 

Here's the first one, and it's a doozy....

WE ARE DEBT FREE!!

When I met my hubby, he had paid off his loans. But then he said "I do", and cheerfully agreed to start from ground zero with mine.

After two and a half years of renting small, driving old, (and the generosity of my sweet Grandma Elaine who set up an amazing little trust fund for each grandchild at our births), we sent the last payment for my student loans two weeks ago!

Actual photo of the last payment! 

Oh, there was no sweeter sound than that last mouse click. We totally did a happy dance in our living room. Thank you, God!


SPEAKING OF DANCING...

 The students in our homegroup threw an amazing, retro dance party for my man's 34th birthday! Everyone picked a decade, and we *literally* tore up the vinyl dance floor with music spanning every era of the past century.

There were twinkling lights, a photo backdrop bedecked with handmade paper discs, chocolate covered strawberries, and even--to my allergy-prone husband's delight--a gluten free chocolate cake! Seriously, those girls outdid themselves.

I have a personal theory that most of us weren't done playing dress up by the time we reached the age when we were too cool to do such things. And this is why adult costume parties exist.

My hubby was genuinely touched. In all the years that he has been leading a homegroup,  the students had never before thrown such an amazing party for him. He felt so loved and celebrated.

And then last Sunday, we celebrated for another reason...

HUBBY BECAME A DEACON!

This step has seriously brought us to our knees, totally flabbergasted at the goodness of God. When my husband came to our church in 2003, he was a college junior with spiked hair, energy that would rival a twelve year old, and no real concept of community.

Since then, my man has been mentored, discipled, trained, and encouraged by godly men in our church. As the years have gone by, he has become a mentor, a trainer, an encourager for younger men, all while continuing to receive love, correction and support from others.

It's a beautiful cycle as we build up each other. When all serve, all are served. 

As he and the husband of my friend stood at the front of the church to be named deacons, our pastors prayed, and I bowed my head over my open hands.

I've realized that receiving the title "deacon" is a bit like being officially named a janitor. Deacon is literally Greek for servant. And serving means continually dying to self, continually allowing the Lord to empty you--of pride, of expectations, of yourself. It isn't glamorous, self-fulfilling, or comfortable.

But Jesus served. He died to himself in every way imaginable, all the way to the ultimate obedience at the cross. And if serving knits us closer to his heart, makes us more like Him, then I say bring it on.

Nora Beth ♥

My darling niece has finally arrived!

Isn't she just the most beautiful little burrito you ever did see?

Nora Beth made her entrance last Tuesday night at 10:15 pm with a cry and her little hand raised up by her face, as if eager to grasp at the outside world.

My sister and brother-in-law chose not to discover the gender until she was solid and warm in their arms. Just an extra layer of wonder piled on the already incredible mystery of a new person becoming.

When Dad yelled from the kitchen that he had finally gotten THE text, we sisters came thumping and squealing down the stairs. It was gender-reveal party and grand entrance all rolled into one. I think we were a little drunk with the suspense.

Later that night, I finally held her for the first time. With her tiny 7 pound self nestled in my arms, I was struck by two thoughts:

#1. This is the child who will one day be a "cool older cousin" to every one of my future kids. (Such a fun thought! I had amazing older cousins.)

#2. This little girl will never stop existing.

Never.

Once a person begins, they will never vanish or vaporize, even if their bodies turn back to dust. The Bible tells us that we are created to be eternal personalities, forever existing in one state or another. (See Matthew 25:40-46)

And that is not all. We are created to exist forever in relationship with the One who made us.

Sweet Nora, I pray this over you: that your relationship with Him would start early, be deep, and stay strong until you see Him face to face. Welcome to our family, beautiful one.


______________________________________________

Click here to read how my sister first told us that she was pregnant. :)

Chocolate Trifle Recipe

This is one of those summer posts that I meant to post weeks ago, but better late than never! (Plus, now you get it just in time for the weekend!)

My hubby happens to be the only member of his family who has a birthday in a month other than June. This year, by weird coincidence, the sum of the ages of his parents and brothers equaled exactly 200 years.

So of course, they threw a bi-centennial birthday party!

Even though my husband's 33 years threw off the number, they let him celebrate too. Quite nice of them, don'cha think? :)

Dozens of family members and old friends showed up at the TX coast to sit under the spindly legs of his family's pink beach home. We ate tacos, compared patriotic pedicures, and spit watermelon seeds while the nieces and nephews spent their Popsicle-induced sugar highs in the surf.

In honor of the occasion, I tried out a new Chocolate Trifle recipe I'd begged from a co-worker after she made it for an office potluck. (Thanks, Allison!) I loved it because it was decadent and chocolate-y enough for my chocolate loving self, but not overly heavy thanks to the whipped topping she used. And with only five ingredients, it was super easy!

Chocolate Trifle

Ingredients

• 1 box brownie mix (I used a gluten free mix so that hubby could have some too)
• 1 3.9oz box instant chocolate pudding
• 1 12-oz can sweetened condensed milk
• 1/2 c. water
• 2 containers of whipped cream topping (one 8-oz, the other 12-oz)
• candy of your choice (I used Heath Bar)

Directions

• Prep brownies by box directions. Let cool, and then cut into small squares. Divide the brownies in half.
• Line the bottom of a large bowl with 1/2 the brownie pieces.
• In a separate bowl, combine chocolate pudding, 1/2 c water, and 12 oz sweetened condensed milk. Graduate fold in the 8 oz container of whipped cream topping.
• Layer the pudding and whipped cream mix over the brownie layer in the bowl (reserving at least half of the mix for later).
• On top of the brownies and pudding, make a layer of whipped topping (use about 1/2 of the 12 oz container).
• Sprinkle half of the candy over the whipped topping.
• Place another layer of brownies in the bowl. (Are you catching the pattern? LAYERS.)
• Use remaining pudding over the new brownie layer.
• Use the remaining whipped cream over the new pudding layer.
• Top with the rest of the candy.
• Chill until ready to serve!

The one where I'm a 2 year old with a splinter

My finger is pink and throbbing and my throat trembles with a sob. The memory is flooded by the yellow glow of the lamp by the couch. Daddy sits and draws me to him. Even sitting, his knees are still as high as my chest.

"Ok, let me take a look, sweetie."

I remember his big, warm hands tilting my finger for examination. So gentle, so safe.

"You have a little splinter--see that? I'm gonna get it out for ya."

He must have explained. He always explained. Patient, child-size words for my reassurance were always in abundance. My Daddy has a teacher's heart.

The next thing I remember is the blanket over my head, a sheltering shadow of fibers glowing in the lamplight while the warm hands tenderly coaxed the painful spot.

The edge of the blanket hung below the huge knees. My finger and its splinter were out there, in the brightness. All I could see were the shoes below and the yellow light pressing pinkly through the weave of the blanket while my wound was probed.

I didn't need to see it; I needed only to stand still and open my hand so Daddy could fix me.

This week, I was shifting loads of laundry from one machine to the next when God pulled this memory, dripping with intensity and light, from the archives of my memories. Hubby was shocked that I could remember so much at age two! I'm not really sure how I can, but I'm thankful. Since that moment with the laundry, I've turned this memory over and over in my mind like a shining penny, relishing it for the truth it deposited in my tiny-girl heart.

She was loved.

She was safe.

Even if her finger hurt, Daddy could be trusted.

Twenty five years later, I am so thankful that I have a daddy who--by his tenderness, his compassion, his gentleness, his delight in his daughter--set the stage for me to know God, the Father.

Daddy, I know you'll read this. I love you, and happy birthday. :) 

To: My Mommy on Her Birthday

Today is your birthday, but I am over 100 miles away. 

If I could, I would wake you up with herbal tea and a walk in the sparkling dawn because we both love mornings. I would clean your house, rub your back, and then let you nap while I made dinner. 

But I can’t, so here—these are a few of the thankful thoughts I’ve had all day about you.

Thank you for being a mommy who snuggled and kissed and hugged freely.

Thank you for putting up with math-induced pouting and door-slamming.

Thank you for singing about birdies and cherry trees and barrel-and-a-heap while the ball bearings squeaked beneath us.

I am so thankful that you taught us for an entire year about China.

And that you made dollies and their tiny fashions with us.

Thank you for reading aloud.You dedicated hundreds of hours to this, enthralling our hearts forever with the beauty of words and stories.

For making us apologize to each other. 

For apologizing to us.

For nature hikes, sketchbooks in hand.

For encouraging dress-up and pretend (even if it meant the whole living room disappeared under boxes and sheets).

For Hershey-bar pie and Swedish tea rings at Christmas.

For all the times you packed and unpacked for camping trips.

For trimming our bangs in your bathroom, swishing the hair bits away with that funny brush.

For thrift shopping,
                bra shopping,
                                and shopping to fill shoeboxes meant for kids in Belize or Bhutan or Belarus,  making Christmas expand beyond my own wish list.

For letting our little fingers into your sewing, your paints, your charcoal pencils and teaching us that art isn’t about the product, but the process.

For loving Daddy and for kissing him in front of us.

For long talks in the bathroom, in the car, and during walks through our suburban streets with our tennis shoes crunching in tandem--talks anywhere about everything.

For treating me like an adult, but letting me be a little girl whenever I need it.

And finally, thank you for not hiding your flaws. This most of all. Because of it, I have hope that perfectionism is not permanent. I know that there is strength in humility, and beauty in admitting need. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit, because their daughters see God through their brokenness.

Happy birthday, Mommy. I love you.

The Best Fruit Tart in the World!

Soon after I got married to a husband who can't tolerate gluten in his diet, my family decided--independently of our influence--to try life without gluten. After finding that they had more energy, less allergies, and less digestive problems, they made the switch permanent. I certainly don't mind; it makes it easy for us when we visit!

The last time we visited, Mom made this mouth-watering fruit tart for my birthday that is quickly becoming my favorite dessert of all time. I asked her for the recipe, and then realized....hey! My bloggy friends might enjoy this too!

So here you go: I'm sharing the love. 

INGREDIENTS:

• Gluten free cookie mix. (We used the Betty Crocker GF chocolate chip cookie found at WalMart in the regular cake section)
• 2/3 c. sifted powdered sugar
• 12 oz. softened cream cheese
• 1/2 c. whipping cream
• 1 T. orange juice
• Various fruits--whatever is pretty and in season
• Glaze:
• 2 T. apricot preserves
• 1/2 T. orange juice

Make the crust using GF cookie mix. Form it on a pizza pan with parchment paper under it. Bake according to box instructions.

Whip together cream cheese, powdered sugar, whipping cream and 1 T. orange juice for the filling.  Spoon onto cooled crust and chill 1-4 hours.

Arrange fruit on top such as kiwis, raspberries, strawberries, papaya.....

Heat topping ingredients until liquid.  Drizzle over fruit. Enjoy!

NOTE: for those who are not gluten intolerant, you can of course use a normal cookie mix for the crust. :)

My 25th Birthday!

This post is now more than one month overdue. *sheepish grin* Who knew that being one-quarter century old would bring with it so many time-consuming responsibilities?

As a special calendarial treat, my birthday fell on the long, Labor Day weekend. So of course we had to celebrate with a road trip to see my family. Bank holidays cannot be wasted when one is a bank teller!

We drove...

Upon arrival we devoured my mom's FABULOUS gluten-free fruit tart instead of birthday cake.

We finished the evening with an excellent indy film that was simultaneously edgy and heartwarming. Not the best for young kids, but the perfect discussion-sparker for highschool and college students.  If you haven't seen the movie rendition of Don Miller's popular book, Blue Like Jazz, then you should!

The next morning, we enjoyed a traditional tea-party breakfast that is usually reserved for Christmas...

And took a few whacks at a pinata with some good old friends before driving south!

Oh, and I can't forget the awesome present my hubby gave me. Yes, I have caved and joined the free-trade granola brigade. I am now the proud owner of Chacos.  You can blame Colorado.