The Week In Pictures

I offer a few visuals from the last week(ish):

This pillow resides on our bed and I look at it every morning and evening and a few times in between.  Sometimes I don't really read it and other times I do, and smile.  But this weekend, I had everyone in my house for a few hours, and afterward, as I moved the pillow, I felt its message deeply.  I know every mother thinks this (and what a beautiful thing that is!), but I am unbelievably thankful that God gave us our kids.  We have grown kids and almost-grown kids and teenagers, and they're all just amazing people.  I love laughing with them (I just told a couple kids tonight that they should live with me forever because I laugh so much when we're together), I love worshiping with them, I love singing with them, and I love doing life with them as they grow up.  They're the best! 

Dukey!  We bought a dog grooming set in an effort to not go broke with groomer bills, and we're slowly getting the hang of it.  Our first effort was. . .interesting, and the kids made a lot of fun of our abilities. But he's a dog and he's goofy and he doesn't care what he looks like.  But I gotta say he's more tolerable when he's cute, so I'm glad we're getting better at it. 

Where the letter sign started -- a beautiful and inspiring quote from Anne. . .

And where it ended -- a modification by a nameless child one night after I had gone to bed.  You'll be glad to know that after I laughed at it for a few days, I returned it to its original sweet state. 

Excuse my ancient ratty pan, but I offer here our family's favorite chocolate chip cookies.  40ish years ago, my mom saw a recipe in the paper for Mrs. Cleaver's chocolate cookies, and they've lived in infamy in our family ever since.  I don't wear heels and a pencil skirt and call out for the Beav while I make them, but I can imagine that I am the consummate housewife that June was.  A girl can dream. 

And this, a fave of mine when fall rolls around.  Even though I apparently am barely a redhead anymore, I still think I am, and the fall colors are my favorite.  I can walk around in an outfit that channels my inner 1970s kitchen, all while coordinating with my hair and the season.  Win!

 

A Family Reunion

Family reunions. 

If you know me at all, you know that I love family reunions. From the small scale of our seven family members coming together for dinner, a holiday, or a vacation, (you can read here how I feel about my circles being stacked up), to get-togethers and vacations with all of the grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins, to extended family reunions every summer - they are all important to me and a priority.

This weekend, we had a guest preacher, one in a series of guest preachers we have had this year to celebrate our church's 150th anniversary.  Among his thoughts in the sermon, he used the phrase "family reunion" to describe what we experience each Sunday when we come together as the body of Christ. It really resonated with me as I looked at the people around me — the faces of those I have loved for many years, who are truly family.

On this particular Sunday, two days ago, I had the privilege of singing with the choir and being the Cantor. The choir sang a childhood favorite of mine, John Rutter’s For the Beauty of the Earth. And as I sang it, I was overwhelmed. I was moved by the beauty of the piece, melodic and rich in lyrics, and steeped in nostalgia and memories for me. And the words of our guest preacher echoed in my mind — a family reunion. 

Rewind back to circa 1981. A little third-grade version of me, with long dark red hair and a shy grin, joined the Carol Choir at our Lutheran school. The director, Mr. B., was a dear family friend, and I imagine I was excited to be a part of his choir — he was funny; a jokester and quick to laugh, but he was also a loving teacher and an excellent and talented musician and choir director. In two years, I shed the short white robe of the carol choir and donned the long choral robe of the school choir. And dare I say this? Joining the choir impacted my entire life. 

Beginning in fifth grade, our school choir sang challenging and complicated pieces, we went to workshops, and sang for pastor's conventions. We sang with various instruments at worship twice a month, and at concerts and festival services throughout the year. We laughed with our director, but we also learned proper breathing techniques, the difference between head voice and chest voice, and how to sing vowels by watching a rubber band stretch in different directions. In the school choir, we often sang for funerals at our church, offering up our voices with Children of the Heavenly Father, which we kept in our folders for such occasions.  Though we were in middle school, we often sang with the church choir, which I later joined in high school, singing difficult pieces such as the Messiah. Mr. B. often charted our progress as the Christmas concert approached, with detailed graphs on the chalkboard behind the risers.   My time in the choirs at my childhood church spanned about 10 years, and participating in that ministry shaped who I am:  the people I sang alongside, the biblical texts of so many pieces, and overarchingly, ever pointing me to my Savior.

So what does all this waxing nostalgic about choir have to do with family reunions?  Maybe nothing to anyone else, but to me, it all connects.  This past Sunday, as I sang the Rutter piece with all my heart, we sang the phrase "friends on earth, and friends above". I looked out from the choir loft with love at all the faces around me, thinking of them, and all of the faces before with a fierce love. This family reunion — the communion of saints — reaches far beyond my love of earthly family reunions.   As I sang the words so embedded in my heart, as many hymns are, I thanked God for His gift of the Church. From 1981 to present day, and before that and forevermore, God gives us each other - this fellowship of believers, which spans distance and time. 

Each Sunday, as we commune with the body of believers, we get a little taste of what is to come. And one day, we will sing and rejoice in the ultimate family reunion — with our sainted loved ones and all those who knew Christ — as we spend eternity in the presence of our Savior. 

A family reunion indeed.