set apart

sunday found me in my usual place - running around like a crazy person, shouting directions and suggestions outside the sanctuary doors before being nudged into the sanctuary, wild eyed and out of breath.  then begins the composure and the walk forward to take a seat at the front.  the move from behind the scenes to central focus is one that jars me each and every week - its even worse when ainsley is here and can hear my voice over the loud speaker.   

(in fact last week i was co-officiating at the table and after i did the invitation and everyone began to pray i heard her yelling 'that's mommy!' from the nursery. i jerked my head up and met the laughing eyes of a number of people.)

i had relativley little to do during this service, so i found myself (my eyes and my brain) wandering throughout the service.  sitting directly in front of me was a young couple- soon to be family.  b is due in 23 days and j was there share his understanding/experience of stewardship.  my eyes wandered around the santuary but continually lingered on them.  i watched them interact, fidget together, pass notes, have entire conversations with a look.  j looked up at me. i realized i had been openly staring at them. very embarassed to say the least.

i struggled with this through the rest of the service primarily because that will never be me.  i will not be snuggled with my spouse and our child in the front pews of church. that distressed me. there is something so beautiful about those times - i know that's not for everyone but they are the memories i hold dear.  my child(ren) will not have the experience of sitting in worship with their parents. even if one of us were to quit the ministry i still wouldn't have the opportunity to enjoy worship with my partner. cause one of us would always be working.  

the christian scriptures talk about how we've been set apart for the work that we are called to.  i wrestle with how appropiate those words are in my situation.  many people see my vocation as something that separates us - and how could they not? i am separated out each sunday in dramatic visual ways.

its a very fine line to walk. especially for someone who's connection to church has always been the community of people.  at times during worship i feel completely alone, surrounded by people. :l

Little House

today driving into work i was listening to this american life - one of my favorite pastimes in the car.  this episode was all about books that changed peoples lives, something very intriquing to this bookworm.  the final story was about a young lady who moved from nyc to nebraska - all because she wanted share experiences from her favorite books, the little house on the praire series.

my ears perked up immediately. like most girls in america, there was a time that i was addicted to these books.  it seems i read them all the time - until the covers ripped and fell off.  mom and dad read them so often to my brother and i that i think mom can still recite entire chapters from memory - all while dad made scary panther/indian/miscellaneous prairie noises. i played long winter as a small girl and as a budding teen became entranced with the love story.

i listened to the reporter talk about indepenence kansas, walnut creek minnesota, and de smet south dakota, and the ways these communities have preserved laura's legacy.  they hold plays,  maintain orignial structures, hold re-enactments of the events in laura's life.  when a woman talked about actually standing on the ingall's farmstead, looking across at the five cottonwood trees that pa planted for 'his girls' it hit me.

i drew in a quick breath of air, my hand flew to my mouth and tears filled my eyes. they were here. and not only that, they were real.  i've always known that intellectually, but because i was so removed from the time and the place they almost seemed like figments of my imagination - almost like they were mine.

yet like a ton of bricks i understood that the stories were true, really true.  all the horrible things (and the wonderful ones) that they experienced happened.  and happened not too far from me.

the reality of that has thrown my whole day into flux.

now i'll have to start the books all over again.  :)

Meet & Greet

this weekend our neighborhood had a block party to celebrate 'fall' (because why would anyone celebrate halloween) and we took the opportunity to meet our neighbors.

by took the opportunity i mean that we dragged ourselves out of the house on a saturday afternoon usually spent in preparation for sunday work, complaining all the while. neither of us wanted to do this. but we moved into the suburbs for this particular reason - that our daughter would have children her age, that there would be block parties she could go to. truthfully the term 'block party' made me hate the idea already.

but we girded our loins and took one for the kid. and it was what we could have imagined. two full time working parents (ministers no less) struggling to find common ground in a cul-de-sac filled with stay at home moms and executive dads.

as i was standing there, between the awkward conversation and the silences i heard entire conversations in my head: no, my child is not wearing organic diapers. yes i let her eat that popcorn she dropped on the ground. her nose is running, its not swine flu. so my kid is touching your kid - is that against the law?

and then, watching her run around the asphalt with absolute joy on her face, scribbling on the sidewalks (and other kids) with chalk, hearing her talking to strangers i took a deep breath and let it go.

sure my child's hair is a mess because she wouldn't let anyone touch it and i choose to pick my battles. who cares that she sits down on the sidewalk and takes off her socks and shoes. like mother (or father) like daughter. we are under no obligation to live up to anyone's idea of family - just learn what it means for us this moment. today.

Luckily, our next-door neighbors came around the corner. they have a daughter ainsley's age, they're both full time employees (and parents), and our children love each other.

and we get along fantastic.