Sunday, July 25, 2010
When You Get Big
"And when Lulie gets bigger, she'll get to decide too."
Jane turns to Lulie, "When you get older," she says, "I want you to say, 'Jesus, please come into my heart. Amen.'" Lulie takes another bite of sandwich. Jelly blobs out the side onto her plate. "And he will take ALL the bad guys," Jane tilts her head, "to a naughty place, and he'll take you to a good place."
Lulie swallows, "The donut store."
Jane scoops up her sandwich and bites the corner. They eat down to crumbs and lick their fingers, wipe their faces and tumble out into the afternoon with brother.
I rearrange the dishwasher. Heaven. Wish I could wrap my mind around that.
105. The old hymns.
106. Fresh strawberries, sliced and frozen.
107. Baby fallen asleep in my arms.
108. Husband's big brown chair. And how he sat on the floor when I fell asleep too.
109. Summer birthday parties, family and the chorus of encouragement as we take turns to say what we've noticed about each other this past year.
110. My momma moved to tears at almost every one.
110. How Dad shakes his head at the end, amazed at the God-work in each of us. Us too. Like my brother says, "Makes getting a year older worth it." Such riches.
111. Husband's mother who finds blueberry plants on sale and shares the secret.
112. Husband's father who always says, "Come down anytime." And how it feels like home.
113. Little boy who begs to pull weeds in my garden.
114. Drippy ice cream cones.
115. Summer hours that linger with my children on the swings out back.
116. Husband who laughs at the beans I cook down to smoke and have to throw out.
117. The pickled asparagus and olives we served instead.
118. Muffin tins shaped like bugs.
119. More puzzles.
120. A date card to a restaurant!
121. A canvas photo of our kids.
122. How my children always forgive me when I ask.
123. That my parents always seemed more afraid of offending God than me.
124. The rich, rich love of parents on both sides of our family. Riches untold.