and there were (graduation) balloons

this sunday was pentecost sunday.  it was also senior recognition sunday, 4th grade bible presentation sunday, parenting sunday school class sunday, head of staff coming back from a week of vacation sunday, mother-in-law arrived yesterday sunday.  lots and lots and lots of things to do and take care of.
i left the house early - even for me - and arrived at church before anyone else (only the second time that's happened!) carrying 4 bags, i opened the outside doors, the office doors, and then my office door.  driving into the parking lot i had drilled myself on the things that had to be done and in what particular order - bibles, senior gifts, storeroom, recycling.  bibles, senior gifts, storeroom, recycling. bibles, senior gifts, storeroom, recycling.  you get the idea.
i greeted people as they came into the office, chatted absentmindedly with other staff, began to center myself for worship.  i dressed in my white alb (did i mention it was also brand new white robe to match the rest of the staff sunday?) and red stole and headed toward the sanctuary for the first service.  carrying in the baptismal pitcher i glanced at our parish associate and hissed 'why are there congratulations graduates 2010 balloons in the sanctuary on pentecost?' she gave me a wry smile and noted 'apparently they're pretty sacred' - to which we both giggled and moved along.
worship went well and went in the taize style.  cute children, great readers, wonderful opportunity to preside at the communion table and invite the community to feel the spirit.
next was a sunday school class on raising children in the faith - and i was worried no one was going to show.  reality proved me wrong.  we had great conversation about modeling our faith for future generations, how children won't remember everything you say but have a permanent impression of the type of person you were.  Discussed ways not to conform to society but to be transformed by our faith.
after finishing a tad late i breezed through the fellowship hall to congratulate our high school seniors, grabbed a cookie, and headed to my office.
re-prepare, re-center, re-robe, re-peat.
presented bibles to 4th graders, affirmations of my children's moment (thanks to emily - that's right! punctuated my every sentence), congratulated our graduates and sent them on their way, Acts 2 read in Spanish, French, and Ewe, red streamers as 'tongues of fire', joking with the lay liturgist during worship, prayer, benediction, jawing in the narthex, done and done.
back to my office to de-robe and gather my things to be gone for the week. I check in with the head of staff and head toward home, to meet j and d and the baby for lunch.
when i arrive all three ask me about church.  i honestly hadn't thought much about it.  j asked me specifically 'how was pentecost?' and my first thought was 'it was pentecost?'.  it didn't feel like pentecost to me.
on reflection that's because i didn't experience what has been my normative pentecost experience - joyful, swinging music, brass choirs, spiritual songs, clapping and (maybe if you're lucky) a little dancing.  it was a bit more calm and staid than i had prepared myself for. did i miss the spirit?  did WE miss the spirit?
what was different about pentecost sunday?  honestly, it was smooth.  i was calm in the face of a thousand things to juggle, i was at peace inside, i enjoyed interaction without being anxious. the scripture that morning - peace i leave with you.  my peace i give to you.  here i was preparing myslef for a whirlwind and pentecost bestowed the spirit in a gentle, meandering guide that floated me along the day.  no ups and downs, no crest and troughs, steady seas, calm sailing.
the gift of the spirit is always a surprise.

when you leave your office open...

a young couple from my church who asked to use my office to change out of their sunday best because they were off to work cataloging birds or plants or something like that.  When i re-opened my office after second service, this is what greeted me on my white board:

gotta love calvin jokes.

(your assumptions) serve you right

when we first moved to kansas and i was adjusting to the night meetings and traveling i was always a little worried when i wasn't going to be home.  (who am i kidding - i still worry about it!)  when i'm honest with myself, i really felt, deep down that j wasn't as good a parent as me.  that looks so horrible in print, but that's how i felt.  don't get me wrong, j is a wonderful father.  i knew ains was safe, cared for, and loved.  i just knew that he wasn't as good as me. he just wasn't plugged into her, didn't understand her as well as i did, wasn't as empathetic as i was. most probably because he didn't do things the way i did.  we present a unified parental front, but there were all the little quirks that i was sure were super vital that he didn't pay attention to. (and it didn't help that i was always pushing him to watch, learn and do it my way!)


over the last couple of weeks i've been gone frequently at night.  tonight we were all home and having a great time, cleaning up and making dinner.  As we sat down to eat, ains got upset because her milk wasn't warm enough.  'warm it! warm it! warm it mommy!!' was ringing out in the kitchen, and i grabbed it to stand up when j (in scary daddy voice) said to sit down. all three of us (baby, wife, and dog) sat quickly.  j looked ains in the eye and told her that if she wanted milk, she had to drink what she had.  if she didn't want to drink it, that was fine, but we were not warming it again.  i'm looking at him skeptically, knowing my child.  ains started to blubber, started to cry and i started to 'fix it'.  j gave me the 'trust me' look, and told ains that she could either eat dinner or go to bed.  ains said she wanted to eat and right before my very eyes, went from blubbering to eating and talking in a matter of minutes.  


it seemed so miraculous to me because i was sure that it wasn't going to work, that i was going to have to be super parent and do it all.  it is incredibly humbling to realize that sometimes you're the one getting in the way of other people.  j for all his faults could and does excel at anything he puts his mind to.  its helpful for me to remember that (cause he's also discovered that feigned incompetence lightens his workload!)  he is an excellent father and together we might make passable parents who succeed in passing very few of our own quirks, inconsistencies, and neuroses onto our children (fingers crossed). 

mothers of all types

i gave my children's sermon this morning about a 'mother in faith' in my life, which got me thinking about my mother, all the other mothers who have loved me, and the women who loved me as family.   i am thankful for them all, as i welcome another mother's day with my own child.  i carry pieces of them all with me, and they have influenced me in ways large and small.


so thank you all for the love, nurture, and support.  my life would not be the same without you.  it is my solemn wish that all children would be so lucky.  


so say we all.

just a touch of grey

my grandmother was a voracious reader...and always a fan of the poets - something she tried to pass along to me.  i've never found much of an affinity although bits and pieces of her favorites have stayed with me.  ts eliot's the wasteland starts with the oft quoted 

april is the cruelest month, breeding

lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

memory and desire, stirring 

dull roots with spring rain.

this phrase has stood out to me in the last few weeks because in this household, april has been the cruelest month - and not for the reasons eliot lists.  its been a really rough month, for reasons discussed here and umpteen undiscussed reasons as well.  However, in the midst of all that cruelty, mourning and anger there have been great moments, moments i tend to overlook during hard times.  

we had a great visit from my in-laws, a wonderful easter weekend, ainsley's first egg hunt  
a visit to the children's museum, a fantastic youth sunday, dinner with member's of j's church, survived a presbytery meeting hosted at my church, celebrated our first child's birthday (maggie turned 4!), got some money back from the federal government, and the weather has been nice enough to play in our local parks.  

just taking time to remember to be thankful for these little things.

we'll miss you vivi.

a couple of weeks ago j and i were picking ains up from daycare and were shocked to discover that she had nicknames for every one of her friends.  (if you know j at all, then you'll detect the sarcasm a mile away).  after hearing her say goodbye to jakey, nicko, and johnny she turned and called to vivi.  i looked at j and asked  'did you sneak her off to the hamptons while i was at work this week, or did she graduate from barnard and no one told me?'  j didnt bat an eyelash before responding 'what did you expect? she's an entitled white kid from the suburbs!'  :) we all laughed hysterically and kept making jokes all the way home.


 she'll always be vivi now.  and we miss her every day.

thank you for the thoughts/prayers/support that got us through this last week and help us through the ones to come.