Pretty in Purple

Ironed Out

As a recovering perfectionist, there are a few things I've just had to let go of. Ironing is one of them. I've never been one who thought everything had to be ironed...but now I tend to think NOTHING has to be ironed! I was raised better than that, of course, and both my children's grandmothers make the effort to smooth out our wrinkles whenever they have the chance. So this weekend, as we were getting ready to go to church with Memaw and Papaw, the question was asked, "Does this need to be ironed?" Of course my response was....well, mainly I just sat there and tried to pretend I didn't hear the question. But Hillary jumped up. "I'll do it! If someone will show me how."
Really?
That was all Memaw needed...and the ironing lesson began in earnest. Cloth was folded, smoothed, repositioned...and tips were given all along the way. And 10 minutes later, Dad's pants were declared wearable.
Hillary was so excited she got her own clothes out and ironed them too.
Then she logged on to facebook so she could change her status to "Hillary Temple just learned how to iron creases that will cut paper."
Who knew? I would have gladly given her this glorious job sooner.
Then I think about how excited she was when she first learned to cook mac and cheese...or sort the laundry...and how now the shine has worn off. Will her passion stay as strong as her pleats? That remains to be seen.
But for now, she's off to church, head held high, without spot or wrinkle!

On Track

Having one kid in jr high and one kid in high school can make for a busy life. Even when they are doing the same thing (running track, for example), it's like squeezing two seasons into one. Different practice schedules...different coaches... different meets in different towns on the same day. Fast food is eaten, laundry is undone, and nerves are frazzled. So in lieu of losing my sanity, my family graciously granted me a two week time-out. I went to work, I came home, I tried not to answer the phone. And everyone had clean underwear for a change. A couple of days in, while scarfing down my homemade butternut squash risotto, Hillary said, "This is AMAZING, mom. I haven't had a real cooked meal in DAYS." Thank you for pointing that out.
Anyway, Saturday marked the end of my hiatus...and what better way to re-enter the atmosphere than spending all day at Parker's track meet, waiting hours to watch him run for seconds and texting Hubby to keep him updated because he and Hillary were doing the same thing 60 miles to my right. But fate smiled upon me and it was actually a pretty good day. The clouds kept the rain to themselves, I got to catch up with another Mom-friend whose son was also competing, and Parker won his heat in hurdles.
Later that evening, I was just lounging in my bed, thinking about watching tv when the kids came in to see what I was doing. They both scrunched in beside me...arguing playfully about who got to "be by mom". This is something they do often (on the couch, on the porch swing) even though I have two sides. Each one always thinks the other is somehow getting more of me. This amazes me as I would assume that having put up with my crabbiness, they would have had quite enough of me already. But they made a Mom-sandwich of me, loving me from both sides. And I loved it. We laughed and told stories and made up words with our own definitions. We were so comfy we fell asleep like that.
They always know how to put me back on track.

Impromptu Vacation

It had been a crazy weekend.
Ok. More like a crazy...well, when hasn't it been crazy? I can't remember.
Anyway...we drove out of the church parking lot in the dreary drizzle, trying to decide where we were going to grab lunch because we had no groceries in the house and we all had various chores and responsibilities that afternoon and we had to be back at church at 4:30. Whew!
We were tired of Mexican, too far away from anything else, and didn't really want fast food. So I decided we'd go to Sybil's, a small but fancy restaurant right there in town with high prices but great food.
As we walked up the sidewalk to the large southern style house with a wrap-around porch, music playing softly, I felt like I was on vacation. We were seated in a cozy room with only a few other tables by an elegant black-haired lady wearing a distinctive gold piece-of-art necklace. The ubiquitious knot in my neck slowly unclenched as the four of us chatted aimiably about sunday school, prom the night before, and a recently rented movie. We laughed over our pasta and fried chicken while someone besides me worried about filling glasses and picking up dirty plates. We even splurged for dessert (can you say "Warm Gooey Butter Cake a la mode"?). As I lingered over my coffee, I felt the stress fractures that come with a busy family life start to heal. This hour with my family and no distractions was well worth the $80 bill. To me it was priceless.

Spirit Fingers

We are blessed to be part of a very large, diverse, loving extended family on all sides. But sometimes God creates a special connection between special people. And that's how it is with Hillary and Hunter.

I first met Hunter's mom when she had just married my husband's cousin. Right away we felt a kinship, born of our shared faith, family, and "surprise" baby girls. So it became an unspoken agreement that anytime we were "back home" we would spend as much time together as we could. The girls grew up sharing Christmases and Easters and even a 4th of July here and there. It's amazing how they both seem to have a special relationship with God...they both love acting and drama (they even each had a part in their respective school's productions of the Wizard of Oz this year)...they are both smart, and pretty, and sweet. And musical. They both use their talents in church.

So when we visited the family for Easter this year, and were able to go to church together, I was thrilled to see that Hunter was playing her harp for the service. And afterward, of course, I made her pose for my camera. Then it hit me that the harp and piano were sitting side by side...just waiting for Hunter and Hillary to make beautiful music for us. And I asked the girls to try to play something together. Being their sweet, agreeable selves, they got right to it...joyfully. They played Sweet Hour of Prayer and Amazing Grace. And even though almost everyone else had gone, the Spirit was still there. That the girls had never practiced together didn't seem to matter...the music floated up and around us in perfect harmony. We moms wiped tears from our eyes and the grandparents looked on with pride.

And my God said, "I love you."

And my spirit sang.

Finding God

"18 -21 Place these words on your hearts. Get them deep inside you. Tie them on your hands and foreheads as a reminder. Teach them to your children. Talk about them wherever you are, sitting at home or walking in the street; talk about them from the time you get up in the morning until you fall into bed at night" Deut 11:18-21

So that's what I tried to do this Easter weekend, as we visited family from far away.

As we attended Easter mass with great grandma and her sisters....

"Look children, God is in Youth and Maturity."

As the Word was read in English and Spanish...

"Listen children, this is the Word of God - in any language."

As we sat, stood, kneeled in the beautiful building...worshiped in grandeur and ritual...

"God is here."

As we went to church Sunday morning with Papaw and his family...tiny country church full of love and sincerity and little children singing "This little light of mine."

As we heard the harp, praise music from a cd, and impromtu hymns accompanied by the piano...

"Watch children, there are many ways to worship God."

As we watched both churches welcome new members...with a sprinkle of water or the "right hand of fellowship."...

"See, children. God draws people to himself."

When you're with hundreds or dozens, singing a song or lighting a candle, God is the same wherever we are. When the priest reads from the prayer book or the pastor speaks from heart and memory...God's word is the same.

He loves us.

He is with us.

In the warmth of a hug, or the pleasure of extended family...

If you just look, you will see he is here.

txt

from Parker's phone to mine:

"I for got to tell u we tested in band and I tied for first chair so in turn I am first chair now just thought that would cheer up ur day."

my reply:

"Yes! I knew you were a first chair boy! Congrats"

him:

"How did u know"

what I wanted to say:

"I knew because you are mine and I can see how perfect you are even when the world doesn't."

what I actually said:

"I just mean I always knew you were good at playing. I knew sooner or later you would get first chair back because you always keep trying. I can just see how much you like playing and that you have natural talent."

"oh"

I love you trumpet boy.