Sunday morning, I was sitting next to my pastor (which virtually never happens — but his wife was out of town, my hubby was in the back of church for some reason, and there were other people on “our” row, so Dennis and I were thrown together) during announcements, and I saw that, instead of “kinships”, the church is now calling our midweek home groups “small groups.” Hm. I asked Pastor Dennis quietly about this, and he mentioned that it was intentional, and that there were other changes on the way, rather an update in image, from what I could tell. “Maybe you’ll be dying your hair blonde!” he joked. I laughed, envisioning it. It feels good to have a relationship with my pastor where I can laugh with him. I also disrupted a wedding reception about a week ago, laughing uncontrollably and way-too-loudly at his HILARIOUS description of the Worst Worship Ever, led by a man in Scotland, on a 120 bass accordion. I didn’t blog about it then, because I was afraid that, somehow, it might get back to the poor chap who was so proud of his Beer Barrel Polka-esque “modern” worship… but then, Dennis mentioned it in his message yesterday morning at church, saying he didn’t care if the man heard, saying with a laugh, “the truth shall set you free!” (The story is at the very start of the message…)
Speaking of kinship/small groups, I will be leading worship (on an acoustic guitar, NOT an accordion!) in one again this year, on Thursday nights. The new kinship/small group season starts next week. If you’re in the Phoenix area and you wanna come, let me know! The leader is a Phoenix police officer, so I feel safe offering the general invite. 😀
I heard a sad birth story this weekend… mother induced three days before her EDD because she is small and the doc was afraid that the baby was “too big”. Long story short, she had a vacuum-assisted delivery, and bled profusely, which led to her needing a transfusion. 😦 Induction… JUST SAY NO! Her baby was just a smidge over 8 lbs, though he was very long for his weight, which may have led the doctor to believe (via ultrasound) that the baby was going to be ginormous. The poor, precious woman. My heart absolutely breaks for her. But, stories like that re-energize my drive to be a natural birth advocate. But a kind one, who doesn’t make a woman feel like crap if the delivery goes awry. I’ve been on way too many websites whose intent, it seems, is to make women feel like they are rotten, if they make choices, or allow themselves to be led into “choices” (IOW, informed consent, but not educated consent) that end up harming themselves or their baby. Dear Jesus, help me always be compassionate and tender towards mothers.
Regarding mothering, a friend, pregnant with her second child, posted on Facebook about reading a horrid book on preparing for one’s second-born… and it reminded me, among other things, about how I virtually never read parenting books. When I have difficulty with a mothering situation, I find someone who seems to be excelling in that area, and ask her, “What do you do?” Not only do I gain pinpointed advice from a trusted source, but requesting advice from another mother always encourages her about her parenting, and the interaction brings our relationship just a wee bit closer. Voila! Books are better than people. Most of the time. 🙂
the sun came out this morn' without fanfare...
a greying blanket covered all the vale.
instead of forcing its warmth-giving face
to pull the cover back and dry the damp,
it moved on higher, leaving undisturbed
the clouds that bless'd our morning with light drops,
and let its light shine dimly on the land
as filtered through a cloth, soft on the eyes.
The raindrops sprinkle glasses, windshield, face.
i feel afresh the touch of Heav'nly grace
that such as i could be so bless'd in this,
a simple shower, making my heart glad.
the overcast that met me at my door
has made me smile upon this fine, wet day. ~Adam Bertrand