Well, hello there, friends. It’s been a hot minute, hasn’t it? This is honestly the longest I’ve gone without writing since starting this little blog thing just about a year ago (EEK! One year anniversary coming in HOT!). In my defense it’s been kind of a crazy few weeks. Between summer being, well, just summer, with the kids home all the dang day needing things like attention and meals and whatnot and a family vacation to Colorado last week there just hasn’t seemed to be a second to sit down and write at this old computer of mine.
But, man, I’ve missed it. I have so many stories to tell all squirreled away in my little brain or scribbled in the margins of my journals. Things have been happening that need to be shared, stories that are funny or sad or a mixture of both, just wanting to come out. Guys, in the writing and the sharing is where I process and feel most alive, and I’ve needed to get back to it so badly.
So here we go….
I decided to start with a vacation story today. There is a lot to share about this particular trip, not just because it was fun (it was) or because it was stressful (it was that too) but because there were so many moments where I felt God’s hand all over it. Yes, all over our little family vacation. And it wasn’t only in the good times where we were laughing and connecting, it was also in the hard times, the times that tested my patience and my sanity, the times that I felt like giving up and giving in (on a vacation nonetheless). Yes, those were the times that I felt God so very close and so very near. He was with me, teaching me, stretching me, growing me.
And maybe none more than the one time on this trip that we accidentally ran out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Which also happens to be my biggest fear.
But let me back up so this makes sense…..
It seems silly that running out of gas would be a fear of mine. But it’s one of those very real, pit in the stomach, sweating in weird places anxieties that is deep seeded and sure to have origins in some childhood trauma that has been buried for years and years and years. It’s irrational and weird. Especially considering it started, I believe, on the countless road trips my family took between Maryland and New Jersey in my formative years. And that’s only weird because there is nowhere along this heavily populated route, and I mean nowhere, where running out of gas would be anything other than a mild inconvenience. There is gas at literally every exit and because it’s the East Coast, population 8 gazillion, exits are close together.
Making my very vivid childhood memories of cold sweat anxiety as the gas gauge dipped below half full pretty irrational. True. But irrational.
Not much has changed in the 30 plus years since those road trips.
And because Mr. BurntToast is funny and always the jokster, he likes to mess with this fear just a bit. On each and every road trip we’ve ever taken together (and there have been a lot) he will, at least once, let the gas dip down below a quarter tank and side eye me the whole time, waiting to see the point where my anxiety turns into a panic. He loves to do this. It’s totally cruel and totally mean, but he thinks it’s hilarious and now 13 years in it’s a little late to make this a deal breaker.
But he has always known that there is gas right around the corner, too, so there’s been no harm no foul and it’s all fun and games because no one looses an eye, right?
Except that on this trip, well, there wasn’t gas right around the corner. Because, unbeknownst to either one of us, when you press “shortest route” on your GPS it’s gonna take you on a crazy back road that may or may not have nothing but empty space for miles and miles. NOTHING.
This exact road is where the panic set in, friends. I mean full-on crazy here, not your garden variety anxiety. Sweat was dripping, breathing was short and there were tears a-flowing.
Mr. BurntToast, well, he did his part in trying to help. He hid the “Miles to Empty” screen from my eyes and continually assured me that there will be gas up ahead in Channing, TX, population 363. (spoiler alert, there was not). But when he said, with all the necessary chagrin and humility:
“Well, I didn’t think it would be a problem until she (our GPS) had us turn onto this road. Then I realized we might be in trouble.”
Well, it was then that I lost it.
Because he’s my strength and my calm. As maddening as it is that he likes to play with my anxieties, I know he’s always got this. So when he doesn’t, well, that’s a problem for me.
Guys, we were 25 miles away from Channing, TX with 27 miles worth of gas left in the tank. There was no wifi service available to locate the nearest gas station, and we passed just two cars and a tractor on the way. It was terrifying. It was helpless. I felt just about as physically lost as I’ve ever been.
Wouldn’t you know that Channing, TX–population 363, they had no gas station. They had no stores. They had nothing. It’s a tiny fly speck of a town that, had I been in a better state of mind, would spark my writers imagination like nobody’s business. But I wasn’t in a right state of mind. I was just scared.
And as my husband walked around and hunted for help, I sat there in the front seat (cradling my daughter who had gone full-on fetal position), and realized something.
My worst fear had come true. Yet I was still breathing. In and out. In and out. My heart was still beating. There was hope. There is always hope. 
Physical hope came to us in the form of the Channing PD and their emergency gas tank, meant just for dummies like us who run out of gas in the middle of nowhere.
Spiritual hope for me came in the form of God telling me in that moment, “let it go. I’ve got this. I’ve always got this.”
I learned then that even if your worst most irrational fear comes true, even if you’re stranded in the middle of nowhere literally or figuratively (I’ve been both, for the record), you’re going to be ok. There is hope. There is God. And He is always in charge.
God is really good at being God. You’ve just got to let Him.
And also, don’t ever (and I mean EVER) let your gas get below a quarter of a tank if driving through Texas. Just don’t do it. EVER.
This recipe I’m sharing with you, well, it’s only fitting because I packed these for this very trip and they are oh so very yummy. I came up with this chocolate sauce because I was trying to create a homemade version of the peanut butter cup. To be honest, I failed and still haven’t mastered that one, but this chocolate sauce, well, it’s a gem. I have used it to cover everything from pretzels to crackers to (gasp) potato chips. It freezes up so well and is even mildly healthy because there’s just a tad of sugar and chocolate to it. Our favorite version, though, are these graham cracker sammies. They’ve got protein from the peanut butter and crunch from the graham cracker, but the real star is this chocolate sauce. Make a batch, cover whatever you can with it. It’s so yummy.
Just eat it quickly, it melts quite fast. But isn’t that part of the fun, anyway?
Peace, love and hope,
Meg
Chocolate Dipped Graham Cracker Sammies
Ingredients
- For the Chocolate Sauce:
- 1/4 cup coconut oil, melted
- 2 tablespoons cacao powder (or cocoa powder)
- 2 tablespoons maple syrup
- 1/2 teaspoon vanilla
- pinch sea salt
- For the Sammies:
- 2 tablespoons natural peanut butter
- graham crackers
Directions
- Step 1 To make the chocolate sauce:
- Step 2 Combine all ingredients for sauce in small microwave safe bowl.
- Step 3 Microwave for 10 seconds and stir to combine (should be smooth and not grainy)
- Step 4 To assemble:
- Step 5 Line a rimmed baking sheet with parchment paper.
- Step 6 Snap Graham Crackers in half vertically and spread a healthy smear of peanut butter on one side, creating a sandwich with the other.
- Step 7 Can be either coated completely with chocolate or half dipped, depending on your preference.
- Step 8 Lay on baking sheet and freeze for at least 30 minutes before serving.
Welcome to BurntToast! My name is Meaghan, and this is my safe space, a place where we can share stories, share recipes and share life. It’s my dream that you can come here, kick your shoes off and pour yourself a glass of wine while you read, laugh, and maybe even hop into the kitchen. This is my heart, for all of you to see. And ALL are welcome here.