Dress Rehearsal



When I walked into the Conference Center on Saturday and saw this sight, my heart clenched with gratitude and wonder as tears pricked my eyes.   My daughter is a part of this! How is it that we are so blessed?


She’s on the front row (above) in the middle, wearing an orange cardigan.  We all loved watching them sing, watching them respond so warmly to the choir director who has totally won their hearts in the past five weeks.  The smiles on their faces, the light in their eyes, the power of their voices brought tears to my eyes over and over again.  It was a joy to be there with our family.  The last hour was a recording session for one song, and for the rest of the day I heard my four year old daughter singing to herself, “Arise!  Arise!” and it made me smile.


This whole experience has been marvelous to watch, and even more remarkable to ponder as various people have shared experiences and thoughts with the choir over the past month.  I am amazed at how much is being invested in these young women, how every detail of this production has been so carefully planned with an international audience in mind.  It has certainly opened my own understanding concerning the scope of vision and the consistent labor that brings it to life.  I think vision came to life on Saturday, and it was marvelous.  I have learned so much from this experience.


I also feel incredibly grateful to my parents, who flew into town just for this event.  I am grateful for the message of love they conveyed to my daughter.  I hope she gets how much she means to them.

I guess one of the golden threads throughout this experience has been the consistent message of the worth of  a soul.  The potential we each have to impact others for good is without measure.


She is one lucky girl!  We are proud of her and love her so much.

Pudgy Little Hands



I love the way little ones cup their chubby hands together to hold a snack.  Her little hands and sweet eyelashes melted my heart.


Most of the time she is wild.  She takes rubber bands out of her hair and rubs food in it.  She undresses and puts on terrible combinations of outfits, usually with the shirt inside out and backwards and the pants from someone else’s drawers.  She is forever climbing on top of kitchen counters, bathroom counters, tables.  She turns water on in sinks and walks away.  She can open doors now, getting into nail polish, big sister’s candy, makeup, soap, markers, you name it.  She learned how to open the front door and will quietly follow family members outside.  Earlier this week I ran outside to catch someone with a message before they drove away.  When I turned around to walk back inside she was running down the driveway toward me, barefoot on the ice.  Did I mention she won’t keep her shoes on?  Honestly, she often looks like an orphan.

Yet she loves showers, baths, getting her diaper changed, washing her hands.  Pretty much she loves water.  If it is in a container somewhere she will pour it out.  If I don’t clear the table fast enough she dumps every glass of water into one container, no matter how small the container of her choice may be, usually ending in a huge puddle on the table and floor, with her sitting in the middle of it.

She is wild, and yet there is a side of her that is all mine.  She wants to be with her family and is wary of strangers.  She’s afraid of the trash truck when it drives down our street.  She nicknamed herself Puddles and I love it.  Sometimes she calls me Mommy puddles.  She is afraid of going to sleep alone in her room.  She sings and hums to herself.  She LOVES to color:  on walls, on tables, on my counters and cabinets, on homework that belongs to the big kids, in my books, anywhere.

She wakes up happy and as the school mornings go on and the attention remains focused on the older children, she gets increasingly irritable and when they all leave at last, she needs me all to herself for a while before she’s herself again.  She loves to read books.  She’ll let me read it once and then she takes the book and says, “Now I am going read it to YOU.”  She marches around the house yelling “Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum!  I smell blood of an English MAN!”  and then she laughs and yells and dances in a circle.  She sings “I am a child God!” at the top of her lungs.  She eats like a horse.  She LOVES babies in all forms:  dolls, books, and of course, the real thing.

She’s been avoiding her Dad lately, as if to punish him for being gone so much.  This week he spent a lot of time with her to reconnect.  She ended up riding around on his shoulders yelling at everyone, “Get out of my house!”  We all looked at her and laughed, and then she threw back her head and laughed too.  She loves to pretend to be a monster, but when she’s feeling sensitive she tells me “I am a baby girl monster.”  She growls with the best of them and gets out the tickle monster gloves to chase us all around the house.  She is amazing.

But when all is said and done she is my little girl who loves to be snuggled and tickled and hugged.  There is still a part of her that is my baby and these pictures captured that part.  She is not what I expected; she is so much more.  And I can’t help but wonder what kind of adventure we’ll have watching her grow up.

For now, I’ll give her goldfish crackers and smile at her pudgy little hands.


I love you, Puddles!

Love, Mommy

The Way of Tulips



My husband gave me tulips for Valentines Day.  I love tulips, love them so much.


There is something about the way tulips bend and reach that speaks to my heart.  They lean on each other, they reach out and around to bend toward the light.  Sometimes they bow in the middle yet the flower so often lifts its head.  I love how gracefully they do this.  They are graceful yet strong.  They communicate movement, change and pose all at the same time.  I love it.

I don’t feel like I’ve been very graceful lately.  I’ve been overwhelmed by some of the challenges of motherhood, worried sick about some of my children, tired, anxious.  I want to follow the example of my tulips.  It’s ok to bend and to lean, but it’s best to still lift your head to the light.  So what if I have some things I’m not happy about?  That’s all the more reason to seek happiness, to lift my head, to calm my heart and find peace in doing my best, in doing what is most important.  All the more reason to put a smile on my face and a bounce in my step, to find delight in little things.


As I’ve watched these flowers for the past week, I’ve been reminded of my favorite Shaker hymn, “Simple Gifts.”

Tis the gift to be simple, ’tis the gift to be free
‘Tis the gift to come down where we ought to be,
And when we find ourselves in the place just right,

‘Twill be in the valley of love and delight.
When true simplicity is gain’d,

To bow and to bend we shan’t be asham’d,
To turn, turn will be our delight,

Till by turning, turning we come ’round right.
I guess one of life’s great lessons is coming down happily where we ought to be, even though it isn’t where we thought we’d be, bowing and bending with grace and not shame, trusting that we’ll come ’round right in the valley of love and delight in the end.  And trusting God even when the turning feels more like spinning.
Jennifer
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