The little things...

The sign outside the new church's meeting place:
This weekend was a strange juxtaposition of events. On Saturday, Brandon and I attended the funeral of a next door neighbor (one we have only recently met). We listened to his young adult children tell stories of his kindness and care for their family. They mentioned his frequent singing, his efforts to attend soccer games despite travel, and the fun of family camping trips. It was sad to hear of their great loss; he was only 57 years old. Then Sunday, we attended the first church service of Grace Presbyterian Church, a new church plant in the NorthEast. The sun was shining, sparkling across the surface of the lake beside our meeting place as a new group of families and adults met to worship for the very first time. The music was amazing as a mandolin joined guitars as well as an accomplished pianist; the service was surprisingly smooth. A joyful beginning and a sorrowful ending all in one weekend, but both were the culmination of a million "little" things. Bill's sons never mentioned honors or awards, accomplishments in his job. They did share his meeting his first grandson, holding him and singing to him right away. They spoke of specific poems he wrote to them, jokes he told them. All that was ordinary and common and good in his life. It was a lot of little things. And as I walked into our "new church" this Sunday, I could see the fabric of a church body woven from different people who joined together with many different ideas and strengths: the woman who picked back up the violin in order to play for worship, the friend who thought of another way to set up the downstairs nursery, the family that was a part of the original committee that researched whether a church should be planted in the NorthEast. Sunday's service was the culmination of many little threads of life, all coming together over time for His goodness and glory to be shown. The little things really do mean a lot. It was a good reminder to me. I think I should go and read Fancy Nancy for the 201st time.

Creative Minds

I know I have written this before...but one of my favorite things about children is seeing how each of them is different and unique, especially within a family. This week I have been seeing how God made my son John Mac with a very creative way of looking at things. During school, I asked John Mac to fill in an empty egg carton that was labelled with numbers 1 to 12 with dried beans. I asked him to pretend that he was a farmer, filling it up with the right number of "eggs" to give to his customers. I expected him to count out the beans in an orderly fashion, one bean in the section with the number one, then two beans in the section with the number two...etc. Instead he would grab a few beans in his hand, drop them down on the table, and then count the number he had grabbed. Let's say he had grabbed seven beans, then he would place those beans on the number seven and go to grab another group of beans. It was a type of bean lottery really to fill up the slots from 1 to 12. Not in an orderly fashion, but fulfilling the requirements in a creative manner....

Then, later that same day, unbeknownst to me, John Mac was trying to describe cinnamon rolls to me. He said, "I want you to make that bread that is in a log and rises high". I just was not catching it at all. He tried several times, with his usual patience, and then he finally walked towards me and placed his forehead against mine. "I just wish you could see the picture in my head Mommy". He told us at dinner last night that when he is grown up he will have pictures of all the pictures in his head. "So you want to go into photography?", we asked. He just looked at us quizzically. I think only he knows what he means by this....

Leaving Again

Today we are leaving another church. Our family is being sent out of First Presbyterian Church in the city of Columbia to start Grace Presbyterian Church in NorthEast Columbia. We have only been at First Presbyterian for seven months. We have always known there would be a leaving; we moved to Columbia to start Grace Presbyterian. Yet my heart is heavy today. It somehow feels hard to leave another church "family". Certainly not as hard as our first leaving of a church to move to Columbia, but still hard. I am ready to be rooted, ready to know and be known by others. Ready to rub shoulders with people weekly, some of whom I have only Jesus in common with them.

Many don't come to churches to visit and certainly not to find family. As a pastor's wife, I have to attend church. It is not a question for me. And this was a helpful reality for me that pushed me toward the biblical reality that Jesus wants us all to love his bride the church. But I have found that the bond of a church can be like bond of family. Things are not always beautiful, calm and serene. People with real holes and real wounds attend weekly, but the commitment of Jesus to love and to heal is only real when it is worked out in normal everyday lives bound together. And when you get these glimpses of gospel truth shining through...it is as beautiful as those rare moments when my four year old son tells my six year old son: "I don't just like you, I love you!"

A Hannah Story

Just a small thing I need to remember and write down: the other day Hannah was singing, "If you're happy and you're smart, clap your hands...If you're happy and you're smart, clap your hands". She sang it with such confidence that I knew I needed to stop and understand this new version of "If you're happy and you know it". Then I remembered that I often say to Hannah, "Hannah, you are so smart, you know it". Thus, Hannah has re-made her song...she is happy, she knows it, and thus, she is smart!

Birthdays

Here we are. All seven. Does it look easy? I want it to be, but the days are honestly quite full. How is it that the goodness of my day often hinges on whether my two-year old liked dinner or if my four-year old remembered to say "thank you" to another adult? My days are made up of lots of little joys or little disappointments that have a cumulative effect. With all of these repetitive small daily happenings, I find myself relishing the events that bring me out of the mundane, even briefly. My birthday was last week and I think I celebrate birthdays even more now as an adult than I did as a child. A chance to go out to dinner? A present for just me? Sweet affirmations from friends and family? Yeah for birthdays! This past birthday was amazing. It was if every small thing that I did not dare ask for came to pass. An iPhone? for a stay at home Mom like me...so exciting! A lunch with just my mom and aunt? Such a privilege! A friend's offer to keep the children for a day "off"! Truly the most expensive of my gifts! And then, finally....two dear friends from our old home surprised me with a weekend visit. It was so nice to rest in being known by old friends after several months in a new place. I had scheduled a breakfast with my new friends in town (they knew of my surprise guests and arranged it as a diversion), and so I had this moment where my new friends and old friends and I all went and ate together. It was one of those pictures that you know you simply can't take all the way in....It is too much, too rich, too multi-faceted. I told one of them it was a picture of the girl party that will be in heaven (I realize men will be in heaven, too, but I don't know if they will sit around a table and talk and eat with the joy that women do). It was a wonderful birthday full of special.

Races and Places

This is William's favorite trick right now: to crawl into small baskets, small baby doll cribs and sit a while. He is especially fond of the small basket full of books in his room; a cozy place to read.

Last week I ran a half-marathon. The first chance I have had to run a race in seven years! (YIKES.) My kids were so excited when they learned I was running a "race". I think visions of sprinting and wearing medals were stuck in their heads. I slowly explained the reality of long distance running, running in your thirties, and the vast abyss that lies between the normal runner and the professional runner who actually wins. After a lot of patient listening, my six year old son asked with great concern, "Will there be anyone slower than you?". I appreciated his concern...it is a concern of my own. I was just trying to finish the race, but I assured him that there would be a few behind me. My kids were with cousins the morning of the race and so they asked me about it afterwards. Sure enough, the first words out of my six year old's mouth:"Were there people behind you Momma?". I proudly answered yes.

A Generous Heart

God makes us each different. To me, that is one of the greatest joys of being a parent...watching each child grow and develop with their own unique personalities. Right now, one year old William loves crawling into baskets and sitting in them. Our first child to take such pleasure in baskets. It's a little thing, but I know it's a small hint of the ways he will be different than the four before him. The picture above is from underneath our Christmas tree. Caroline has begged me to take her to the store, purchased gifts for each sibling with her own money, wrapped them and made cards for each person. They are all under the tree now. The other kids have not even thought of buying a gift for someone. Just Caroline. She loves to give. God made her different and this time of year it is fun to watch how much joy she has in giving gifts.

Today William took 7 steps! He was holding an empty starbuck's cup with a top and in his excitement of putting the top on (he loves taking tops on and off), he took seven steps. He was very surefooted for a first time walker. It made me think he has probably had the capability for a while but been uncertain that he wants the independence of walking. He wasn't even aware he was doing it at the moment. I will be curious to see if he suddenly takes off with walking.