Home

"That's the way it always is: older people know more because they've done more and seen more," I say shaking my head over blooming scoops of brown sugar atop the kids' oatmeal.

I smooth a mound of coffee in the espresso basket, press it down with the tamper. Jane rinses egg batter from a white cereal bowl, the overspray a wake at my elbow. "Unless they've wasted their life," I add, "then they don't know as much."

Jane snaps the faucet hose back in place, quells the spindrift. She wads her hands into the hand towel. "They always know more," she says and brushes the towel up to her elbow.

I swivel the tamper in the espresso basket, shimmy off excess grounds until the coffee packs into a circular brick. "What do you mean?" I scrape the scoop along the shiny rim and loose coffee flutters to the sink.

"The older generation," she says and secures the white sackcloth towel back to the oven door, "knows more because they don't have as much stuff, and they aren't spoiled."  She nods as if listing the ingredients for the eggs and oatmeal she just made.

Less stuff. Less spoiled. A feather of a thought, I turn this over in my mind. She clips off to clear the dishes and rally rouge bits egg and crumbs.

My wide river of a day and the current eddies. Less stuff. Less spoiled. Yes. The election, another incremental change in our world, I realize afresh: this world is not my home. I pray to be worthy of the challenges ahead.





Gratitude:

3763. "Do you think chickens in Mexico speak Spanish to each other," Jack wants to know.

3764. "I hope we get lots of ads for our guy," Jane says of the election, "not that that gets people to vote."

3765. "We didn't call any of our babies Goliath," Lucy says, "'cause he's a very wicked guy."

3766. "It's election day today," I announce. Across the room, Jack widens his eyes, then bows his head to pray.

3767. Tuesday-girls at Mom's we pray for our nation over quinoa salad and salted chocolate.

3768. The cousins make a book club with our kids. Circled around the speaker phone they read to each other and make up discussion questions.

3769.  "You know what this apple pie is to celebrate?" I announce Wednesday morn as I peel and chop apples, "That even though Obama won, God is still in control." Jack bounds into the kitchen. "Really?" he says. "Really."

3770. I visit the night away with a dear friend. We even hop coffee shops when the first one closes before we are done.

3771. "Toot in the bathroom, not at the table," I warn Jack. "I find that pretty funny," he guffaws.

3772. Mom and I morn the election over coffee and pastry. Even in our astonished disbelief, the Lord is the path beneath our feet, the breath in our lungs, and the destination in front of us.

3773. Craig's mom drops in to say hi.

3774. "Lucy poked it out with a pencil," Jack says of his missing tooth. "We were playing."

3775. "Why aren't you leading in being joyful? The Bible says you HAVE to be joyful." I grouse to Craig. "Be JOYFUL," he commands. And what can I say? I submit. And JOY comes! Who knew.

3776. Saturday, the sky blue tang, we roust the crew and trounce to the local cupcake shop. Salted caramel cupcake. Who knew I would be 34 before I had the best cupcake of my life.

3777. We play games and eat popcorn all evening. Everyone practices being a good sport. Even the grown-ups.

3778. "It sounded almost like a violin," Jane says to Joey's coos in the bedroom.

3779. A treat for me: new eye make-up.

3780. "Why do you think adults have longer ears than kids?" Lucy wants to know. "'Cause ears never quit growing, "I say. "My ears are longer than Joey's and Myra's," she nods, "but Emma has longer ears than all the children in our family, and Ellin has the biggest of the bigger-ear-people. Logan has pretty big ears too."

3781. We run into our very first neighbors from our very first house and have lunch to catch up, the friendship still fresh.

3782. "Big girls get unda-wears on," Myra announces in the bathroom.

3783. "Daddy said he's gonna start running," I tell Jane. "I didn't know any boys liked it," she says.

3784. "Jesus my only way. Jesus wuv me," Myra says.

3785. "In Heaven we won't have to brush our teeth," Lucy whispers to Jack after they get ready for bed.

3786. "I a big girl," Myra chimes, "but Daddy's da boss."

3787. "You can have some of my lollipops anytime you want," Jane bursts when I tuck her into bed.

3788. A week of quiet before Thanksgiving, preparation, I greet it - eager.