I've written about Salvation Sauce before, spicy salsas sold by our church youth, "On fire for Christ." I added an entire bottle of "Hot Mango Salsa" to three cans of french-cut green beans combined with sauteed mushrooms, onions and bacon. The green beans had a pleasing and unexpected tang. Jesse calls the sauce, "Tango Salsa."
This is the friendliest neighborhood I've lived in since I was a kid. Bill and Marcia asked us to bring green beans, and, modestly, I must admit they were the best green beans I've ever made, due to a little experimentation and my secret ingredient: Salvation Sauce. The neighborhood Easter dinner was fun.
Bells were ringing Sunday morning as the choir concluded the service with an Easter Alleluia fanfare in a packed house. Though Easter bonnets were few, everyone, including us, seemed duded up. Jesse's sister Lola and buddy Phil joined us for church, a special treat.
My daughter Rebekah said Lent went faster this year when she didn't give up anything. I didn't give anything up, either--I took the contrary tack of adding things--more devotions, more choir rehearsals, more study, more alms. Lent flew by. Holy Week, on the other hand proceeded slowly, deep and meaningful, building to a joyous Easter morning. The Monday after Easter yawns and stretches with a blue sky.
I've written about Salvation Sauce before, spicy salsas sold by our church youth, "On fire for Christ." I added an entire bottle of "Hot Mango Salsa" to three cans of french-cut green beans combined with sauteed mushrooms, onions and bacon. The green beans had a pleasing and unexpected tang. Jesse calls the sauce, "Tango Salsa." 