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Monday, February 14, 2011

Valentine’s Day 2011, A Singular Celebration of Love

Ohhh. Every time I sit down, I feel the bruise from this morning’s accident. This morning was one of those blessed days I got to spend with the two new loves of my life, Sophia (4) and Isaac (1.5). It was one of those mornings I forgot about myself. After running around all morning with the kids, I’d let everything go, until I was in the car and suddenly realized my stomach was growling. I was thirsty. Man, did I have to go to the bathroom! I also noticed a shimmering piece of glitter stuck in my hair, which was now speaking nothing of the fact that I had brushed it AND curled it at 7:30 a.m.! Kids teach you like no one else can how to be selfless, giving, and sacrificial to the point of self-forgetfulness. This morning reminded me of the lesson. Here’s how it happened.

First, we made a beautiful mess. Sophia and I spread out construction paper, scissors, glue, ribbon, fake flowers, stickers, crayons, markers, glitter, you name it, it was on the table… and soon to be on ourselves. I had come prepared, bringing some of my own materials to add to her mother’s stack. One of the materials was a jar of glitter. Sophia promptly dumped the entire contents on the table, creating a dazzling, remarkable display. Then we went to work. Sophia cutting, cutting away in a sort of scissor frenzy. Me trying to think of creative ways to involve Sophia in the process of making valentines that would look like valentines to their respective recipients (as nanny, I was supposed to assume some level of responsibility in their outcome). By now my scissor-frenzied artist was involved in making a massive knot with all the ribbons she’d pulled off of their spools and admiring this entangled pink blob with glowing pleasure. I recruited her to wield the glue stick in forging things together and sought her expert advice on which stickers were of preference. We succeeded and survived, crafting four beautiful valentines.

By then, Isaac’s nap was over, and so I headed to the table with him, so he could have a hand in making a valentine. While he loves to hold crayons in his hands, he hasn’t quite figured out how to use them. So to get the job done, I had to guide his hands over the paper and apply the needed pressure.

I knew that these valentines would soon be given away “from the kids” to their loved ones. I knew that I wouldn’t get credit in the end, but they would, and should. To love requires we forget ourselves. To lay down our life for a friend is the greatest gift of all. What are a dozen roses, a perfect card from Hallmark or a romantic dinner without the foundation of self-giving love? Love is selfless, it expects nothing in return, it loves, and then it loves some more. As Blessed Mother Theresa of Calcutta said, “Love until it hurts, and then there is no more hurt but only love.”

I picked up Isaac, holding his back to my belly. I was preparing to sit down in the chair by the craft table when I missed the chair. Instead of a safe landing, the chair, Christina, and Isaac all came tumbling to the floor. I took the brunt of the fall on my rump, pulling Isaac on top of me and cushioning his fall. Ah my rump hurt but Isaac didn’t even whimper or cry. He only looked at me in wide-eyed surprise. I was angry at myself for having missed the chair, but so relieved that he was safe! After such an epic fall, you’d think I’d have remembered to tell his mother upon her return, but I forgot. One loves and then loves some more, not counting the cost or adding up points. Love is not complicated. In the end, it’s about how much you are willing to go and risk your own life to save another.

In the afternoon today, I received a package from a friend. Inside was a card and a box of chocolates. It read, “For you, friend. Happy Valentine’s Day.” Then my friend added, “Happy Singles Awareness Day!” I began laughing out loud and cried a few tears at the same time. Wondering how far my friend had gone out of her way to do this for me, I felt loved and rescued by grace in one singular action. Now it's my turn to stand in wide-eyed gratitude.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Dad? Is that You?


It was dark in the kitchen, and I was fixing myself a night time snack, while listening and dancing to music. Side note: yes, I dance in the kitchen. Ever since I was a little girl, I occasionally will break out into expressive dancing when I’m alone in the kitchen. What can I say? Music just pulls me out of myself!
My mom has “opened a dance studio” in our dining room. A few times a week our neighbor comes over for ballroom dance lessons. I sit in the other room working and listening to Elton John drifting from the kitchen stereo, across the dining room, down the hallway, and into the office. It amuses me and just knowing that friendship, life and laughter are being stirred up in this house makes me glad and helps me do my work.
My mom and the neighbor dance for a few hours. She coaches him on all the steps, practicing the rhythm in rumba and how to travel in waltz. I remember six years ago when I was the teacher and my partner was coming over for lessons so we could perform the opening MC act for the homeschool talent show. How nervous we were to be in each other’s arms! It was my first encounter with romance and how sweet it was.
When the neighbor leaves, some of the new life lingers. I hope a budding romance might happen to me soon. Not a passing fancy but something to last.
My Dad likes to pick moments like these to remind me that I’m still his, even though he hails from heaven. The other night I heard him distinctly in this song. In the void of my heart, Dad’s voice came through to me as clear as day, floating down from heaven and speaking as only a father can speak to his daughter:
Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said
But I swear you'll be blessed
I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed
And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky
Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that
You'll be blessed
I need you before I'm too old
To have and to hold
To walk with you and watch you grow
And know that you're blessed
(Music by Elton John; Lyrics by Bernie Taupin)
How can I forget you see all, Dad? In these moments, I just know. I know that everything will turn out great whatever God’s plans are for me – it doesn’t matter. All I know and need to know is that I’ll be blessed. Truly, I am, already.