The Sound of Music

Waiting. Waiting.. Waiting... Much of life is waiting. This morning I was waiting at the bus stop, as I do every morning. It's the same each morning - at least for me. I walk to the bus stop - the kids run. I chat with the parents - the kids run around in the park. The big, yellow bus pulls around the corner and all the kids run to their parents for the obligatory hug.

Jackson, my middle son, hugs me and runs along his merry way. Cooper, my youngest, always lingers a bit longer, hugs me a bit tighter, and engages in that moment more than Jackson. More than me.

This morning he hugs me tightly, laying his head on my chest for a few seconds.

"Mom, do you have your ipod on?"

"No, why?"

"I hear something..."

"Oh, you must hear my heart beating."

Lays his head back on my chest, "Oh yeah, that's what it is. It sounds so nice."
Then, he kisses my belly; I lean down and kiss him on the forehead and off he goes.

The sound of music, while waiting at the bus stop. I didn't even hear it. I didn't hear a thing really, or at least nothing really registered until that moment. Who knew that I sounded as good as an ipod. Now, since his current favorite song is, "BOOM, BOOM, POW" I'm not sure I really want to sound like that, but to know that me, just me, sounds like music to my son. Man, I will take that any day.

Psalm 139:14 "I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

When I Grow Up

At least once a day some conversation with one of my kids begins with, "When I grow up...". Usually it is followed by, "I want to be a "fill-in-the-blank".

Right now my youngest son is obsessed with clowns. When he grows up he wants to be a clown. Yes, a clown. He's been researching juggling, having me paint his face like a clown, wearing a hat... He's predominately interested in being a mime - very specific in his clownly desires.

So, I've been answering lots of questions about his attire. My response has been, "Yes, Cooper has decided he wants to be a clown when he grows up." Then I sort-of roll my eyes and say, "Really aiming high, huh?" Being a clown just doesn't seem to be an aspiration, plus could he support himself? Pay the bills? I mean, really -he does need to get practical

I've been thinking about it though...my oldest son - he used to want to be (and maybe still does)a comedian. He's totally funny - a real gift. I have people come up to me and tell me that he's the funniest kid they've ever met. And my middle son, he'll help anyone or anything. Once I saw him pray over a dying baby bird. He has a double dose of compassion.

So, it seems that I have children that want to grow up and entertain people, make people laugh, and care for people and animals. Man - those are things to want to be when you grow up. Those are things a mom should be encouraging, not rolling her eyes about.

I don't know about you, but sometimes I get lost in the labels or the expectations of life. Maybe it's just this time of my life... But, when I grow up, I hope I am doing those things that my children are so attuned to. I hope they don't lose that wonder at life and that they never stop imagining what they will give to the world.

So - what about you? What do you want to be or do when you grow up?

A Prayer in Time of Need

Last weekend I attended two funerals - they could not have been more different from one another. Saturday I went to the funeral of a 50-something woman. There was not an empty seat in the church - pews were packed, extra seats in the aisles were filled. It was standing room only. The woman who had died had everything planned to a T. She had breast cancer, so she had thought a lot about her death and her celebration of life. This funeral was definitely a "going-home" celebration. Friends got up to talk about their relationship with her...they made us all laugh and cry. We all learned knew things about our friend...pieces which we could hold onto. She reminded us each to live...not to live as if we are slowly inching closer to death. But to live, live until the day we just die.

My friend was a frequent lay assistant at church...she was an amazing "pray-er". One of the things she always said in her prayers - "We stand in awe of the power of prayer." Each time she would recite that, I would think, "Yes, yes we do." That day was awe-filled. It was assurance filled. It was couched in between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. It felt as if the sting of death was there...yet, we knew it wasn't.

And then....the Resurrection. Easter Sunday. It was sunny and bright - a glorious day for new life. Another funeral was not on the agenda, but as I tucked in my middle son and checked on his gecko, which had been sick, I knew something was wrong. The gecko was cold and stiff - and, my baby had just snuggled into bed. I had to tell him though, because I knew he would find him in the morning.

Oh, the tears, the sobbing. I was crying as hard and he was. His brothers, his dad, and I all traipsed out to the garden for an unplanned funeral in the dark. As we walked to the garden, Jackson said to me, "Stripe (the gecko) died on the same day Jesus came back to life." Oh, my heart ached - more than I thought possible for the loss of a gecko. I just said, "Oh Jackson, I know." I didn't know what else to say. But Jackson knew...because then he said, "But, at least we know that Stripe is with God now." I thought, "Oh yes, Jackson. At least we know that."

We are promised that!

So, we dug a hole and we placed Stripe into the dark ground and covered him up. Jackson knelt down on the cold, dark earth and bowed his little head over the gecko. I whispered to Jackson, "Do you want to say a prayer?" He shook his head "No," - he wanted me to say it. The words, the prayer - it just came. I was crying, Jackson was crying. And as soon as the prayer started, his brothers and dad were crying. There's something about prayer. There's something to be in awe of...a power that we have no claim on.

His dad said later, "That was a damn good prayer for a lizard." Hmmm...the words just came. It was God, I know it.

That's when I made the connection to the funeral the day before. The funerals were so different. One well-planned, one make-shift. One packed full of people, one 5 people total. One in a beautiful, sunlit church, one in the chilly, dark of the night. One for a woman, one for a tiny gecko.

And yet, they both held prayer and love in common. They held the promise of the resurrection in common. They held the assurance of God's presence in common. A prayer in time of need holds healing and grace, power and gentleness. A prayer in time of need reminds us that there is something awe-some whispering about in the corners of our lives.

Silence

"Mom, I love you so much I don't even have the words..."

No words needed - that says more than I could say.

Ask you shall receive....

I have this sort-of funny thing going on with my youngest son involving communion. Most parents I know have children that either take communion or don't - really no in-between. And, in most churches there is a given 'practice' involving communion. Some churches begin communion whenever the child desires (or the parent), some churches it's the 2nd grade, some churches it's 5th grade, and some others still it's 8th grade. The "acceptable" time to commune is up for discussion.

Cooper, who is now 6, really fits none of the categories, accept the first - whenever the child desires. He's the in-betweener kid. Last year on Maundy Thursday we were involved in a Seder Meal. Cooper listened attentively the whole time (at least as well as a then 5 year old boy can). After this ritual, we all went up to the sanctuary and stood in a circle. As the bread and wine were being distributed, he cupped his hands and looked up into the pastor's eyes, as if to say, "Me too. I am a part too. I love Jesus too. This includes me too."

I think about that a lot. I know that Cooper understood, as fully as any of us do, what the celebration of Holy Communion is about. And I think as we grow and wilt, ask and deny, open ourselves and close ourselves, we all come to new and fresh understandings of communion and God's love for us.

I haven't gotten to the funny part yet....this year we returned to our home congregation after being gone a year. Cooper decided he didn't want to take communion anymore - he said he wasn't supposed to. And - I thought it didn't really set a good precedent me up at the altar forcing him to take communion (that surely can't be grace...). So, he stopped taking it, also excusing himself by saying he didn't like the grape juice. I let it go. Besides, there is precedent for those not feeling worthy to come for a blessing as they confess their sins, instead of receiving bread and wine (although I don't necessarily agree with this - who among us is worthy?).

Today though, just a few weeks before Maundy Thursday, he cupped his hands and looked up into the pastor's eyes... different pastor, same feeling. The pastor looked at me, looked at him; Cooper looked at me, looked at him. I said, "Okay. Yeah, give it to him." He asked. What can we say to that?

Ask and you shall receive - it's the promise of Jesus. Ask for grace, ask for love, ask for forgiveness, ask for just a foretaste of all that God has promised to each of God's beloved children. Because when we ask - we receive, one way or another.

Expectations and Anticipations

Today I got dirty. The sun was out and I had some weeds to pull in my garden. I had looked forward to this since the weatherman predicted a mid-week warming. I expected to have a lovely time, anticipating the smell of the earth, squirmy worms, and the promise of planting tomato plants soon. These are the things I expected. But, when I invited my youngest son to help me out, I 'found' something else.

"Cooper, do you want to help me pull weeds in the garden?"

"No," he said. "Why not? It's great out," I asked.

"Well, I'll help, but I'm digging for dinosaur bones."

Well, you and I both know that Cooper was not going to find a dinosaur bone here in Northern Virginia. His expectation was intoxicating. The whole time we were out there, he kept digging. And every time he would hit something, he would say, "Mom! I think I found one. I bet it's a T-Rex."

After a few of these I said, "Do you really think you are going to find a T-Rex?"

"Maybe not a whole head, but maybe a tooth, or at least a crystal," he says.

I smiled. Expectations. Anticipations. Maybe I set mine too low? And, maybe it doesn't matter if I set them too low or not, because today a mischievous, red-headed six year old, surprised me and reminded me that there are still numerous discoveries to be made.

All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

Every once in awhile one of my kids says or asks something, which is very innocuous at the basic level, but then the more it rolls around in my head, the more profound it seems. I often wonder if the depth of what their statements conveys is known only to me or if I read into things too much. A little of both, I guess. At this point in my life, as we all embark on a new Lent, it feels more like God talking. So, here's a little portion of how a conversation went with Jackson (age 9) today...maybe it'll speak to you.

I'm folding laundry as Jackson curls up on the couch and asks, "How come we don't celebrate Mardi Gras?"

"Hmmm," I am thinking, "well, we sort-of have before. Remember last year at CLC (my internship congregation), when we had the Pancake Supper? That was on Mardi Gras or Shrove Tuesday. It happens the day before Ash Wednesday." I am fully aware that my answer is insufficient and don't go into spiritual disciplines of fasting, remembering we are dust, and simplification. For some reason I think it's just too much for him (maybe it's the mom in me protecting his self-esteem - yes, I know...pride can be a sin...).

Jackson says, "But why eat pancakes before Ash Wednesday?" Exactly what I was trying to avoid. "Okay, here it goes," I am thinking. So, I say, "Well, Ash Wednesday is the day we start Lent, which is the 40 days which lead up to Easter. And during Lent we remember and try to focus on God and what has been done for us in Jesus. We try to simplify things. So, people eat pancakes before Lent as their last chance for awhile to over-indulge."

Jackson innocently states, "So, I guess we're not going to be having pancakes for awhile?" I laugh and say, "No, we can have pancakes..." He says (and this is what I love because it's simple and profound ), "Yeah, I guess we could have pancakes, but definitely no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' - that's definitely out of the question."

So - no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' for Lent, no 'it's all about me', no satisfying myself with things which ultimately don't satisfy. I'm hoping during Lent this year I can sit simply with God at the sparseness of the foot of the cross and be fed on the simple offering of bread and wine - then I really will be full.

What is love?

Said to me by my youngest son, Cooper:
"Mom, you know how I love you all the way up to the sky?"

Me: "Yes" (with a big smile on my face and in my heart)

Cooper: "Well, I love these new lego fruit snacks almost that much, only one inch less."

Hmmmm - either, the fruit snacks are phenominal or I am on the same level as a FRUIT SNACK! Actually, maybe it's more....my providing the special surprise treat said, "I love you" to him, so his relishing the treat so much is saying "I love you" back.

Things You Don't Sign Up For

Something I never planned on signing up for as a mom:

Trimming the fur of a long-haired guinea pig.
Washing the toenails of the aforementioned guinea pig
-AND-
talking to the guinea pig in a soothing 'mommy' voice.

Who knew?

I think this is something only a mom would do...

Gifts

There are many times I feel like I am failing as a mom, but then there are those moments when my kids in their own little ways assure me that I am doing ok.

Each night after prayers I trace the sign of the cross on my kids' heads and say, "I love you every minute of every day." Normally they just smile - which is enough. Last night though, I did my normal ritual and Jackson said, "I know that, every minute of every day."

What a gift. I am so thankful he knows that - that he knows it deep in his heart, even on the days when I have probably yelled too much or been too impatient.

Then, as I was climbing into bed I saw a note on my pillow from Carter, my oldest. It said:
"Mom, thank you so much for the candy bar. It was delicious! You are great! Love, Carter." Below that was a huge smiley face.

Another gift. Sometimes it's nice to know that someone thinks we're great.

It's amazing how attuned kids are to the needs of others - somehow they each knew what to give me. I pray I see what they need....

Elementary, My Dear

Conversation with my oldest son, Carter:

Carter spontaneously asks,"Mom, guess what?"

"What?"

He replies, "We get to do this totally cool project in science with the Periodic Table and research an element."

"Cool," although I am actually thinking - YUCK! Not something I would ever want to do.

"But," he continues, "I wanted to Krypton and I'm not allowed."

"Why not?"

Matter-of-fact Carter says, "Because it's a noble gas and we can't do noble gases because they won't let us mix them."

"Oh." I thought he was going to say, "because Superman lived on Krypton." Boy was I wrong.

So, here's want I want to know: when did my 11 year old get smarter than me and when did they start teaching stuff that I didn't learn until high school chemistry? I think there are some amazingly smart kids out there.

Male Nutrition

This past Sunday my oldest son, Carter, had his 11th birthday. My husband and I were amazed at the mass quantities of food they ingested. We laughed every time some kid would say, “Can I have more?” In three hours 7 eleven year old boys (with a few younger siblings thrown in) consumed: 2 1/3 extra large pizzas, 2 containers of ice cream, 1 chocolate chip cookie cake (the size of a pizza!), 8 bags of microwave popcorn, and Gatorade, water, and juice bags. And – I think it was actually tamed down by the fact that they were spending time ‘partying’ too.

A few of the parents and us were laughing about this as they waited for their children…. And I remembered the below chapter from a book I read once. Take a read…it’ll probably give you a laugh and, if you have kids, make you start budgeting for their teenage years!


Except from Karin Kasdin’s book “Oh Boy, Oh Boy, Oh Boy”

"This chapter is about feeding a teenage boy. It is also the only chapter for which I have curbed my natural tendency to hyperbolize. Today (truthfully) Dan ate:
Breakfast at a diner
One twelve-ounce glass of orange juice
One eight-ounce glass of milk
Two scrambled eggs
A pile of homefries
Two pancakes
Three sausages
Seven pieces of toast
Snack
Five Oreos
One eight-ounce glass of milk
Lunch
One triple decker sandwich made with one half-pound of turkey breast and one half-pound of bologna and one quarter pound of cheese;
One-half of a giant bag of tortilla chips
One cup of salsa
Six Oreos
One quart of iced tea
Snack
The remainder of the giant-size bag of tortilla chips
One cup of salsa
One quart of iced tea
One apple
Snack
Two Ho-Hos
Sixteen ounces of milk
Dinner
One roasted chicken
A plateful of French fries
No vegetables
Two lettuce leaves
Half bottle of Paul Newman dressing
Early-evening snack
The rest of the Oreos in the bag
One twelve-ounce glass of milk
Late-night snack
One large frozen pizza with pepperoni
One quart of iced tea
I could say more but why?"