Bacon Pleasers
1 package of crescent rolls
4 slices of swiss cheese
3 eggs
¾ cup milk
1 tsp. minced onion
4 slices of crispy bacon, crushed
1 tsp parsley

Preheat oven to 425. Grease and flour a 13X9 baking pan. Spread rolls on bottom of pan and add cheese. Combine (blend) egg, milk and onion. Pour over cheese. Sprinkle with bacon and parsley. Bake for 15-18 minutes.


I often hear people diagnose themselves as being people pleasers. In its purest sense it means to give satisfaction to others or to be agreeable. This is wonderful when coming from a place of sincerity and truth. However, most often when this is said, it is implied that someone is doing something that they really didn’t want to do.

On the other end of the spectrum are those that constantly seek pleasure. In today’s culture, there is so much external stimulation driving us from one thing to the next. Throughout the day, no matter the task at hand, we are interrupted with thoughts of other things we could be doing or prefer to be doing. It may be the norm, however, it isn’t natural or how we were created to be. One can look to the seasons of the year and see that there is a time to flourish, to slow down and even to be dormant.

Instead of being pleasers or seeking pleasure, first, we must know pleasure. We need to know pleasure for ourselves and not in relationship to anyone else’s experiences or beliefs. Pleasure does not have to be of a particular magnitude to be enjoyed. It doesn’t have to be a vacation, a job promotion or a new car. It could be as simple as a walk in the park, spending time with friends, learning something new or merely an observation. After knowing pleasure, we then have to hold on to it. Think of how often we choose to hold onto our pain and offenses. What would happen if we were to ponder our joyful experiences over and over again?

Although there are many, I can think of a few pleasure-filled moments that I’m not too embarrassed to share.

There is the random, serendipitous pleasure. This type of pleasure happens when we aren’t trying to produce it. Several years ago, a childhood friend and I did some last minute holiday shopping. By last minute, I mean it is Christmas Eve and we are leaving the mall and the doors are being locked behind us. We weren’t ready to call it a night. It isn’t often that I am home and see my old friend. After leaving the Annapolis mall, we decided to drive down to the harbor. We parked several blocks away from our destination and made our descent towards the dock – passing by many quaint shops and restaurants. There were a few people wandering around. It was cold but not unbearable. We went into a coffee shop that looked out onto the harbor. As we sat in the coffee shop it began to snow. It fell onto historic Annapolis with its 18th century buildings and cobblestone streets. It fell onto the docked white boats, some decorated with holiday lights, others too striking for decoration. It fell onto the leaning Christmas tree just outside of the Market House. It fell as we sat in the window, drinking something warm and comforting, and saying nothing at all. It was a moment of pure joy and contentment.

There is the pleasure that comes from laughter. Last Fall, I went with a walking buddy to Stone Mountain Park. It was overcast, cloudy and chilly. You know, one of those days in which you stay inside. We had rescheduled many times and were determined to meet on this particular day. As soon as we began our 5 mile walk around the mountain, it began to lightly mist. Surprisingly, it continued to either mist or lightly rain the entire walk. A couple of hours later we finished - soggy, tired, cranky and cold. Did I mention that I brought my dog along? Yet, what I remember most about that day was the laughter. We laughed about our glasses fogging up, our noses running and putting a wet, muddy dog into the back of my car with nothing to dry her with. We laughed because we didn’t believe it would rain the entire time, but somehow it did. Most of all, we laughed at our stupid determination to walk that morning.

There is also pleasure that comes from the absence of discomfort. In our lifetime we will not be able to escape grief, heartache, illness or disappointment. Quite recently, I distinctly remember experiencing this type of pleasure. Having undergone surgery, I was lying in my bed and resting. I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. My room was full of light and the house was very quiet. The only sound I was aware of was that of the air conditioning coming through the overhead vent. And for a few moments I felt no pain, discomfort, fear or any of the other vulnerabilities that one experiences after undergoing major surgery. I was at peace. I knew that everything was going to be alright. For me, that was pleasure.

What’s your pleasure? Know it and hold on to it.


This recipe comes by way of the Faculty Favorites recipe book. This recipe book was published in 1990 by Magothy River Middle School located in Arnold, Maryland where my mother spent the majority of her teaching career.