The foodie truth, or why winter and Pinterest go together

A power chowder: Just add bacon

I have come to the conclusion that winter can be useful. I'm not a great fan of winter by any stretch of the imagination. If I were to rate the four seasons from favorite to permanently exile it to Siberia, it would go like this:
1) Summer
2) Fall (Truly, Virginia falls are absolutely splendid and a very, very close second to summer in my book. It's almost a photo finish. The only real issue I have with fall in Virginia is that every day you are that much closer to winter.)
3) Spring
97) Winter

So you can see that winter isn't exactly my favorite. I hate being cold and winter here just off Chesapeake Bay -- where the air is so thick with humidity on some days that you can actually catch it, put it in a Ziploc bag and watch it turn to water -- is a bone-chilling cold. It's a damp, miserable affair in which there are days where if I spend too much time outside I just can't get warm for the rest of the day.

One of the few redeeming qualities of a Tidewater Virginia winter is Pinterest. Seriously. I'm on Pinterest and I get the occasional Pin on my board or whatever you call it that just doesn't seem right to me.

For example, from actual things on my board I saw this morning it might go something like: "Top 10 Tips to Reduce Swelling During Pregnancy" (I don't even know where to begin with that. What sort of Pinterest algorithm came to the conclusion that I might be having problems with swelling when I'm pregnant? I've never, ever had swelling during pregnancy!) or "Amazing 2 Ingredient Makeup Remover -- You'll never go back to expensive department store versions again!" (I'm going to nip this in the bud right now before you draw conclusions about the things popping up on my Pinterest board: When it comes to makeup, I'm okay with using expensive department store versions of makeup remover because I believe that's something you definitely don't want to mess around with.)

What I find Pinterest useful for, when I don't need pregnancy or makeup tips, is finding recipes. Yeah Pinterest has lots of other cool features, like DIY stuff, parenting stuff (The one that cracks me up lately is all these Pins about "How I Survived Going From 2 Kids to 3" and "How to Decide If You Can Handle Going From Two Kids to 3" ... so naturally I'm thinking of writing a useful blog and throwing it up on Pinterest with the title, "How to Decide If You Can Handle Going From 13 Kids to 14" ... I bet it will get a ton of Pins.) and links to somewhat interesting and useful blogs.

But far and away the #1 Pinterest feature in my book is recipes. Especially on bone-chilling frigid winter days where the only redeeming quality of it is that it's a great excuse to make soup. I think that is the one thing I am thankful for when it comes to winter: It's the season of soup-making.

Recently I came across this soup recipe on Pinterest that I tried and let me just say -- and it's not bragging if it's true -- that the day I made it is the day I made the best soup in Gloucester County. I also want to say that Claire helped me out ... well technically she did all the heavy soup-making lifting and I was more like the sous chef to her head chef. Claire can flat-out cook. She's a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen. So the other day for this soup, I did the chopping and dicing and prep work and Claire expertly assembled, added, poured, stirred and lovingly coaxed greatness out of that pot.

The soup is called "Smokey ham, potato and corn chowder" and it was a huge hit in the Sabo house. I mean, it's got bacon, ham, cream cheese, potatoes ... there's a lot of things going right just in that grouping. So go ahead, hop on Pinterest and weed through the pregnancy, makeup and parenting pins and find it. You won't be disappointed.

Faith That Matters In This American Life

Touch the Light

I was driving around Gloucester late last fall on a stormy day and spied this lone tree in a field. I actually stopped in the middle of a busy road and gazed for a few moments. Eventually I parked my car and walked around in a smattering of raindrops before finding the right angle for a photo.

There's just something that draws my eye to this old, gnarled and scarred tree set against the storm clouds and rising above the line of distant woods behind it. It's a lone sentinel in a field, surrounded by farm ground that's planted every spring and harvested in late summer. I'm not sure why it was left standing because it seems that everything else in what was once thick woods was chopped down and cleared away long ago to make way for ground to till and grow crops.

If you spend enough time in ministry you can relate to this tree. If you spend enough time in a relentless pursuit of God perhaps you can relate to this tree. Sometimes it feels as if you stand unprotected and vulnerable. Sometimes you take some blows. You can be buffeted by storms. You can feel alone.

All those things are what drew me to this tree. After all these years in that field and through all the changing seasons and the relentless onslaught of storms, the tree has endured. The tree is still standing. Sure it's beat up and gnarled and when you get up close you can see it's rotting in patches. But I like how, as I gazed at it from the base of a low knoll, the tree rises out of darkness and above the line of trees behind it, seeming to touch the light in the parting dark clouds.

It reminds me of our hope in Jesus. There's things that go on in within this Christian life, in faith, in ministry, that are trying and difficult. There's discouragement and at times despair. I'm reminded it always occurs when my eyes are focused on circumstances. I'm reminded to fix my eyes on Jesus. My hope and faith is in Him. And I'm reminded that in Him I'm never alone.

The World's Strongest Man. And He Has ALS.

It would be virtually impossible to be living in America and have no clue about the ALS "Ice Bucket Challenge" that has inundated social media. It's the summer of the Ice Bucket Challenge.

Yet how many of us actually personally know people afflicted with "Lou Gehrig's Disease," as it's commonly known? What sort of interaction have you had with someone with ALS?

One of the most remarkable men I've ever met and spent time with is very likely nearing the end of his life in the unrelenting grip of ALS. His name is Jay Tolar, a man affectionately known in the Sabo household, and very likely many other households, as "Coach Jay."

In July 2010, my family traveled to Serving In Mission headquarters in Charlotte, N.C., for three weeks of missions training. For two of those weeks, Coach Jay spent time with my older children pouring into them a legacy that will likely span generations. It's a tribute to him that four years later his wisdom, his attitude, his grace and perseverance continues to have a profound effect on my children who had the privilege and honor to spend many hours a day with him. All of us got to know him and his wife Heidi and children Jake and Julie.

Coach Jay had been an SIM missionary serving in Nigeria, where he was born to missionary parents. A big strapping, athletic man at 6-foot-4, Coach Jay's body has betrayed him and is deteriorating. He is now confined to a wheelchair requiring everything to be done for him and I've received emails that indicate the ravages of ALS may be nearing an end.

I spoke and texted with my son Ethan, now 21, about Coach Jay earlier today.  Ethan told me that Coach Jay was amazing in how he was handling his diagnosis of ALS. There was no self-pity, no woe is me, no signs of depression from Coach Jay.

Coach Jay's faith and trust in God and God's plans was undeterred. He was a steady, immovable rock on sands that were shifting ever so mightily beneath him.

Ethan said that the best marriage talk he's ever heard came from Coach Jay. I asked him what it was about the talk that was so good.

"Just about treating your wife with honor and love in all situations and that in turn she will respect and submit to you," Ethan wrote. "About what it means to be a husband, laying down your wants and needs for your wife and family."

Here's how Taylor, now 22, summed up Coach Jay in an email: "What can I say about Coach? I only spent two weeks with him, but those two weeks will ripple through the rest of my life. He did so much more than teach me how to walk with God, to be a strong leader, a loving husband, a compassionate father, an inspiring coach, a man after God's heart. He exemplified it.

"He taught me that being a man isn't about killing, it's about dying. He taught me that every day men are called to die to their flesh, their desires, their needs, and put their wives, their children, their friends' needs before their own. He showed the beauty of hoping in Christ and the power of faith in Christ. I hope that, one day, I can become half the man that he is. To Coach, who always reflected his Savior, and now will know Him just as he also is known."

Taylor added a passage from Scripture: "Yet indeed I count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead." --Philippians 3:8-11.

I can't accurately convey how humbled and honored we are as a family to have spent time with Coach Jay. I know he will soon hear the words we all hope to hear from our Lord, "Well done, good and faithful servant."

Here's a video produced by the SIM media team on Coach Jay. God bless you Jay. We love you and look forward to a heavenly reunion with you.

Jay Tolar video

Low-Budget Date Nights. Or Parents With Funding Issues.

                                          Swan Tavern Antiques in Yorktown, Va.

You and your honey/hunk/sweet thing/lovey-dovey/sugar pie -- or whatever it is you call your spouse/mate/life partner/husband/wife -- may be so financially secure that every date night you take includes $15 appetizers, $30 steaks, $15 desserts and a short cruise for $100 a pop in the bay. Not to mention the tab for the babysitter. Plus tip.

The Sabos, however, operate in a different financial realm. Five Guys is high-end for us. We've been known to head to dinner with coupons. From McDonald's. We like going to the nearby Mexican restaurant because it's all about volume; we can take home enough food for a second "in-house" date the next day, provided our boxes of food can somehow survive the gauntlet of starving chitlins rummaging through the fridge over the course of about 24 hours. Basically there's a better chance of Los Angeles being smog-free in August than a box of Mexican food leftovers surviving more than a few hours in the Sabo fridge, however.

So almost subconsciously Julie and I have begun to specialize in the "creative dating lifestyle" category. For example, on our recent trip to Oregon we took a lovely stroll through her former hometown of Canby, Ore. She was a great tour guide and pointed out all of her old downtown haunts, walked me by her old elementary school and pointed out how small the trees used to be in Wait Park. It was a wonderful time together unencumbered by the demands of small children ... wait a minute. Now that I think about it I recall pushing a jogger stroller on our jaunt. Which wasn't empty ... well, I guess it was a date with just the three of us -- Julie, Seth and me. An intimate walk through town with Julie was a nice thought at least.

Anyway, there are times that we are alone together in a formal "date" setting that includes the obligatory dinner. When you have the volume of children we have, you have to pick your spots but thankfully we have older kids who can watch the little kids. But sometimes you just need to get away, albeit cheaply, to have adult conversations without interruption, to share your dreams about the future (Mine entails 100 grandchildren. No pressure kids if you're reading this, but my biological clock is ticking and I don't have any yet.) and sometimes just to HAVE SOME PEACE AND QUIET! Er, excuse me. Our house is actually typically peaceful and somewhat serene even because people who come over to visit often remark how quiet it is in here. But there are those moments when it feels like someone just targeted my house with some sort of smart bomb -- or is it a dumb bomb? -- that causes endless arguing, whining and general chaos. You know what I mean?

All this to say that earlier this week Julie and I managed to take leave of our children, drive down to a large crafts store and actually "browse" through the aisles without even thinking of how long we were taking. It was paradise! Then on the way home on a complete whim, spur of the moment, even spontaneous act, we ducked into Yorktown, parked the car and walked around through the historical Colonial buildings dating back to the 1700s. It was a perfectly delightful August night. The sky was ablaze following a thunderstorm, the smell of the rain was wafting in the air and it was just the two of us, alone in our conversation as darkness crept over us. It was absolutely wonderful. Who can put a price tag on that?