First Communions

We have recently begun visiting churches in our town as we try to find a new church home for our family. Our current church does not fulfill the needs of our family with the right attitudes, love and Christianity that a church should provide.

It has been a while since we have been at a church service where communion was served. This Sunday, our children each had their first communion.

This particular congregation partakes in communion as a whole, not by dispersement from the pastor. The trays of bread and wine were passed, and each of our girls sat patiently holding their little cube of bread and tiny cup of grape juice.

"What is this for, Mommy?" asks my middle child, with all the innocence of a 5 year old.

"This is called Communion. When we eat the bread and drink the juice we say a prayer asking God to forgive us for the things that we have done wrong."

"Does He do that?"

"Absolutely, sweetheart. He forgives us. All we have to do is ask."

I don't know if she truly understood what I was telling her. For that matter, do most grown-ups? Perhaps she was thinking that God really would forgive her for hitting her older sister, talking back to me or breaking something. Perhaps she thought it was just a little snack. Whatever she thought, I was glad to be sitting with her, sharing communion, praying to my God.

"As far as the east is from the west, so far does He remove our transgressions from us." Psalms 103:12

"I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake, and I will not remember your sins." Isaiah 43:25

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." Romans 8:1

And being forgiven.

Today Could Be a Birthday

Today could be a birthday.

It is something that will be a part of me for a long, long time. A haunt, a what-if, a why that will always be here. A reminder of good or bad, evil or graciousness, right or wrong. A penance.

My penance.

And I am so, so sorry. For so much.

Brave Girls, Brave Mom

Summer vacation is in full swing, and after a nice week of being lazy at home, I've been packing up a picnic lunch everyday and heading out to the lake with my three little blondes for swimming lessons. Not being a beach person, this has been just a little bit harder this year since I am also dealing with the full throes of morning sickness. Pregnant is not something I do well.

My oldest wanted nothing more than to swim out to the diving board dock. From the first second she saw it at the beach. One day the first week of lessons I indulged her, and swam with her out to the dock. It's a far swim for a 7 year old, but she did it. I had to wait in the water for her as she climbed the diving board, and jumped in. She loved it.

I hated it. Mama Bear was watching her cub grow. I watched her jump into the water, and waited for what seemed like an eternity for her little head to pop back up from under the water. And then she did it again.

I realized that while we were out there, I did very little breathing. It was time to head back to shore. But my little one was so proud of herself.

The next day she wanted to go again. But she had to wait for Daddy to go with us. The following week, out they swam. This time it seemed much quicker for her to reach the surface after her jump. Of course, I was watching from the shoreline, and did not swim out to the dock. That is what Daddy was for!

The next day, my middle one wanted to swim to the dock. Donning life jackets, they swam out to the dock together, as we waited on shore. Jumping from the dock, they took several turns before heading back in, proud as can be of their accomplishments.

When they reached the shore, we both breathed.

Learning to Forgive

Last month, at church, I was listening to the minister read off the list of names and prayer requests that had been submitted that day. When the minister reached the point in the prayer where we spoke to God in silence for the prayers and concerns weighing on our hearts, I, as usual, began to pray.

I found myself praying that morning for two people who used to be in my life.

My eyes flew open, my stomach fell. WHAT WAS I THINKING?? Why was I giving thought and energy to people who had hurt me so badly?

"But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you." Matthew 5:44

"And when you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive your transgressions." Mark 11:25

I have to forgive so that my life, my broken heart can heal, and I can move forward and be the mother, wife and friend I am supposed to be.

And it is hard.

I need to forgive someone who was so invested in themselves and too much of a coward that they could not see their way clear to telling the truth.

I need to forgive someone who has pointed fingers in my direction, not realizing that when you point a finger, there are three pointing back at you.

I need to forgive people for referring to me not by name, but rather by an acronym, with an easily determined meaning.

I need to forgive someone who has bullied friendships ranging from mere months to decades into lining up behind those pointing fingers.

I need to forgive those friendships for doing just that.

"...Do not judge, and you will not be judged; and do not condemn, and you will not be condemned..." Luke 6:37

But mostly, I need to forgive myself. For trusting what should not have been trusted, for believing what should not have been believed, and for hurting what did not deserve to be hurt.

"Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." Ephesians 4:31-32

It is time.

How to Love Your House

Right around the same time that we began to start our family, we also began to find a house for that family. The family started on the one year anniversary of when we moved into the house. How little did we know about how big or how fast that family would grow!

I was the one who found our house, but my husband was the one who pushed us to buy it. The outside held much more appeal than the inside. The inside needed so much work, I was immediately turned off by it. But, my husband pushed, and it turns out that he was right to do so.

We have spent so much time working on our home, inside and out. We are never at a loss for something to change, something to make better. Parties that we have celebrated with friends. Children's first steps, first words, first days of school. Sometime along the way it became a place that we decided we never wanted to leave.

But we have been contemplating just that. Why? Because we are outgrowing our house. Our children are growing, by size, age and now number. In a few more months, there will be another "us" in the house to live, grow, laugh, cry.

So we have begun the unthinkable. We have started to look for a new house. Every now and then we think to ourselves, we can manage in this house with a bigger family. We can make it work. But maybe it is time for something new? Something better for us to make our mark in. Something to help us grow, just a little bit more.

The thought of leaving this house hurts our hearts. But we've had hurting hearts before, and they have always healed and shown us something better.

The Final Baby Frontier

My youngest is three. Long past the time ready for potty training, but that's my fault. Now she is asserting her stubborn attitude, a birthright she got from both her mommy and her daddy. I am sure that we will have a battle of wills. A learning experience for us both.

When it gets right down to it, I just wasn't ready to give up the babyness. I needed the comfort that it brings. The fragrant smell of a new package of diapers when you open them. The cuddles, tickles, hugs and kisses that invariably come at the end of a diaper change. I still sing my kids songs at night when I tuck them in. Still cuddle up to each of them, rub their backs, and inhale their smell. I wash their clothes separately, still, in baby detergent, even though my oldest is approaching the age of 7.

My lack of insistence on the potty training means that I have been changing diapers every day for almost the last 7 years. Sometimes more than one tooshie, too! But maybe it is time to let the babyness go.

Or is it?

An Angel in My Pocket

Some eight plus years ago, when my husband and I started out to begin our family, we found it very easy to get pregnant. The hard part was staying that way. After one particularly painful miscarriage, my mother sent me a little coin. An angel, for me to keep in my pocket. To comfort me in my (our) pain, and to remind me to keep faith.

I kept that coin in my pocket as often as I could. It saw me through one more miscarriage, and then the pregnancies and births of our three beautiful blonde, blue-eyed angels here on earth. Having done its job, I put the coin away for safekeeping.

Several months after my best friend was diagnosed with cervical cancer, I came upon that coin in my jewelry box. Holding it in my hands, I knew that I needed to send the angel to her. To stay with her during the pain and fear of her treatments, to comfort her when needed. To help her keep her faith.

And that she did. That angel stayed in her pocket everyday, or in her car, her purse, somewhere where she could feel its presence. We rejoiced together in happiness when she received good news, and cried together when we learned the prognosis was then grim.

Two months ago, she sent the angel back to me. I knew then that my friend was dying. The angel, she said, had fulfilled its job for her, keeping her comforted during her trials. As I was then (and still am) going through some trials of my own, she sent the angel back to me, to comfort me, and help me keep my faith. The angel has stayed in my pocket for the last 2 months.

One year and one day ago, we celebrated with my friend and her family at a "celebration of life" party. It seemed then that she had beaten her cancer, and life was wonderful. Today, she is being buried.

Our faith has been a common bond between us, especially the last two years. I will keep that angel with me now, as I continue to fight through my trials and look forward to a most happiest of endings. The angel will help me keep that bond of our friendship with me day by day.

Kristie, I love you and I miss you. Be one of my angels, always.