Disgustingly perfect

This afternoon was one of those disgustingly perfect Sunday afternoons where you just want to punch yourself in the face to counteract the goodness. I suppose some would settle for a more polite pinch to make sure they're alive, but you know that feeling where the beauty just overwhelms. This sweet, intoxicating prelude to summer weather we're having. You get so high off of it that you forget to worry about your diet, the lawn you need to mow before it rains, the e-mail bombshell that is ticking like a tell-tale heart in your inbox awaiting your reply. We went to a Chattanooga Lookouts game today and it was bliss. We overbought slushies and overate overly salty pretzels and we cheered and switched seats and ogled fat babies. It was just so disgustingly perfect, all four of us sitting in a row with backed bleachers, Loverpants and I putting the bookends on our little treasures in the middle. I held their hands and prayed a silent prayer over and over. Gross, right?

This school year has been a satisfying one for me. For the kids, it has been much harder. There have been some mean-spirited things done to our children, and by the same token, I have complete faith in the fact that our kids have done mean-spirited things to others in return. But this year things felt a little more magnified. The safe hedge that surrounded them in years past seemed to get cropped out. Kids showed true colors. Cold shoulders jabbed from unexpected places. Silent treatments were prescribed. We talked through a lot of things and role-played more playground theatrics than I can recall.

With all the anti-bullying education that is infused into elementary ed these days, I just have to return to our sun-drenched bleacher bench above first base. I know the next years will be hard on our parent hearts as we lead little hearts toward the truth: They are eternally cherished and made for more than this world. I mean, some days/weeks/months are just going to be plain terrible, right? But our hope is that our kids will remember days like this, where it kind of didn't matter who won or lost but that they got sick on Dippin' Dots and too much love.

Walking to church with my son-shine

Dear Little Man, Earlier in the fall, your mama did something that she is not proud of but which she felt was necessary. She tried to beg out of church greeting. The extrovert in her enjoys the greeting and the handing out of bulletins and the occasional hugging that transpires during her monthly church greets. However, God's little errand was starting to infringe upon sabbath school with you, because she had to leave early to greet. Full disclosure: I am not the biggest fan of sabbath school. In principle, it is fantastic, but the practice of it involves sitting in uncomfortable chairs, singing a lot of high-pitched songs that stay in one's head for three days, crafts that are not recyclable, and being peer-pressured into taking a Little Friend magazine. Sometimes it's a lot to do before noon on a Saturday, you know?

Anyway. The greeting boss lady suggested that your mama just bring you as her greeting deputy and--why hadn't I thought of that before?!

I have come to love these mornings that we walk from the big church on the hill to our contemporary worship gathering downhill. I love the time with you and just getting some fresh air in our lungs before we put on our greeting pants. I can't tell you what we talk about and I can't be sure you'll remember this time at all. But I will. I will remember how you stood no higher than my elbow, how you held my hand, how you would get frustrated when I would trump your bulletin giving, how you would eagerly anticipate "bucket time" aka offering time, how our friend Jeni said collections at church must go up every time you are collecting because who could deny your big brown eyes looking at them and passing the offering bucket?

I can't be sure if we are making a Kingdom difference, you and I, the Lee Greeters, party of two, but I know one thing is for sure: you being a part of this ministry is making a difference in my life.

Love, Mama

Sept 2014

Nov 2014

Dec 2014

Jan 2015

Feb 2015

Humans of Tennessee: Snow Day Edition

I know how ridiculous this outfit looks but it's actually a mosaic of all the places I have lived. Starting with the hat, which my old man calls a "stockin' cap,"--I bought this at a high school football game for, like, $4. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio and my grandfathers, dad, some of my uncles went to this high school for boys. St. Ignatius is a real Cleveland institution, but I used to call it St. Ego-natius because every guy who went there thought he was God's gift to the girls at my all-girls high school. I'm pretty sure I was bitter because I was a super homely kid that no one ever invited to a dance. Anyway. The gray coat I bought at T.J. Maxx when I was pregnant with my son and my other winter coat no longer fit. I literally bought it, put it on, and stuffed the other one in the Goodwill bin on my way to pick up my daughter at daycare.The mis-matching gloves are from the rag bag in our family closet. I gave the matching ones to my kids who are off school today. My favorite part of this outfit is the Carhartt overalls, which my old man bought for me for my birthday at the Boot Box in Meadville, Pennsylvania. So many good memories in these overalls. I went to college in Meadville and this is where I first really fell in love with the outdoors. Many of my friends were environmental studies majors and they were always going backpacking or rockclimbing. One of these friends, Jeff, told me the first time I wore the Carhartts that they were a disgrace and I needed to drag them behind a truck and get them weathered. I still laugh about that because the next time I wore the Carhartts was on a camping trip with my boyfriend. We got utterly lost and had to sleep on the forest floor without a match between us. It was freezing and we could have lost limbs. But I married him anyway.