wet and soggy

This morning while I was in the shower, Elsie was brushing her teeth. And then she said, "uh oh mama, I'm all wet." So I pulled back the shower curtain and saw that she was indeed getting all wet. Because she had plugged the sink, had it running and had flooded the countertop so badly that water was spilling over the front like a waterfall. I didn't even stop the shower, lept for the sink, turned it off, unplugged the drain and used my bath towel to direct the water on the counter back into the sink while pushing the pile of clothes on the floor over to soak up more of the water on the floor.

All the while Elsie was crying that I was getting her wet with my wet hair, standing over her step-stool as I cleaned up her mess.

We went to women's Bible study this morning in an absolute frenzy. When we got there the kids told me they were thirsty and I told them they had to be very careful with their little cups of water. But moments later it was I who knocked the water on the floor. And again I was down on my knees, cleaning up the second wet mess of the day. I commented to a friend that it felt like a day of baptisms for me. Water everywhere.

I raced the kids home after Bible study to get my clothes for the funeral. I didn't even let them out of their car seats. I packed them up for an afternoon an Auntie Lisa's and hit the road. And when we got there it was pouring rain. But I hadn't brought coats because it wasn't raining when we left. And I surely didn't have an umbrella.

I got ready at Lisa's and she let me borrow her umbrella. It was as I drove to Target, with the windshield wipers on full speed that I told God this water theme wasn't lost on me.

I went to the funeral and cried a whole lot of tears. Mama J's ashes were set upon the baptismal font and the pastor began the service by reciting Romans 6, "When we were baptized into Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his." 

Baptismal water.

The service was lovely. A lot was said of Linda's love of boating and even a fishing trip story was told. I went up to read the scripture Linda had chosen for me to read and fell to pieces. I was totally caught off guard that I struggled so badly. But it was a funeral, and people do cry at funerals...

I drove home in the rain and ran into the house where Rory was boiling some hot water for our first night of small group. Minutes later our house was full of new and familiar faces, all ready to pour over the story of Noah.

You can't make this stuff up, folks.

And even as I sit here, the best word to describe my mood is soggy. My eyes are puffy. I'm thirsty and tired. I feel tired in my bones and sad in my heart. And I'm holding onto that baptismal promise with all my heart, believing that Linda is resurrected with her Maker, and that one day we who know and love Christ Jesus, will join her too.

how to be good people

On the last day of 7th grade my friend David asked me "out" in the back of my yearbook. (The text above is hilarious for 39 different reasons.) I said yes, I would go out with him. And that made it official. Just where we were going, no middle schooler actually ever knows.

A day or two later we were talking on the phone and he was telling me that he was going to his cabin that weekend. He commented that I would love his cabin and that sometime I should come up with his family.

Well, this freaked me out. And I'm not sure if it was in that conversation or in the next one, but soon after I dumped David.

My plan was to never talk to him again. Ever. In my life. Which was going to be tricky, but I felt up to the challenge since I made it through the rest of the summer avoiding him each Sunday morning at church. And then school started up and I knew this was going to be hard. We were in classes together. And band. And the school play.

But I kept at it. Avoiding eye contact. Avoiding him.

One afternoon during play practice the secretary's voice came over the loud speaker, "Becca Harrington and David Wagner, please report to Mrs. Johnston's room. Becca Harrington and David Wagner, please report to Mrs. Johnston's room."

When I got there all of the chairs were up on the tables from the end of the day, except for two that were facing each other with a table between them. Mrs. Johnston had us sit down. And then she said to us with love and care, "I don't know what happened to you two, but this has to stop. You are two of my favorite people and you deserve each other's friendship. You are better than this. You are meant to be friends and that's what I want to see when you are done talking here today."

She left the room and I was left to talk to David. And so I told him that when he said I should come to his cabin sometime I thought that was moving too fast and he commented that he never meant anything by it, except that I would love his cabin and that it's his favorite place in the world. His feelings had been hurt by my 7th grade dramatic over-reaction and we were able to talk through it all and when we walked out of Mrs. Johnston's classroom that afternoon we were friends again.

I love this story because it shows quite clearly how dumb and mean a 7th grade girl can be. And how important a 6th grade math teacher can be. Because Mrs. Johnston used her influence as our teacher not only to teach us math, but to teach us awkward middle schoolers how to be good people.

She was just my middle school math teacher, but since the day I stepped into her classroom, she was one of my most faithful mentors and constant life teachers.

And it's a good thing she got David and me talking again. Because we ended up MCing the senior prom, taking a train out to Montana to work at flathead lutheran bible camp, meeting up in India while studying abroad, and now, to top it all off, we live in the same small town.

Sure am glad I stopped ignoring him.

I want to walk as a child of the Light

We discovered a new hiking trail less than a mile from our house tonight. It was a stunning evening hike, and the kids insisted on leading the way. Rory and I were amazed at how able they each are now. It really is a wonder to watch children become independent, strong and able.

I didn't know at the time, but while we were taking this glorious little hike, my dear friend Mama J passed away after a warrior-like fight with cancer. As we walked down this lush path under a canopy of changing leaves, Mama J was breathing her last.  I am grieved beyond words. At the moment I just feel numb. Strangely that picture above is bringing me great comfort. I love that beam of light pouring down to earth. I believe heaven's glory is more than we can ever fathom. And no matter the darkness or sorrow we experience on our own path, God's light will always fill the darkness. Every time.

I believe that in my heart. Now I have to rest in that promise.

All evening I have had a hymn stuck in my head. The words are ringing like a bell.  Knowing how profoundly Mama J impacted my life, I am left wanting to be sure I shine Christ's light just as bright as she did. No matter how many or how few days I have left of my own. 

***

I want to walk as a child of the light;

I want to follow Jesus.

God set the stars to give light to the world;

The star of my life is Jesus.

In Him there is no darkness at all;

The night and the day are both alike.

The Lamb is the light of the city of God;

Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.

I want to see the brightness of God;

I want to look at Jesus.

Clear Son of righteousness, shine on my path,

And show me the way to the Father.

I'm looking for the coming of Christ;

I want to be with Jesus.

When we have run with patience the race;

We shall know the joy of Jesus.

In Him there is no darkness at all;

The night and the day are both alike.

The Lamb is the light of the city of God;

Shine in my heart Lord Jesus.

I want to Walk as a Child of the Light by Kathleen Thomerson

the stuff that makes us US.

I'm about to brag about a super awesome anniversary celebration. But only because I want you to turn around and plan a date like this of your very own. The night turned into something really special, which was great because I wasn't sure what we should do to celebrate our nine years. But since we had yet to get to Lake Harriet this summer it seemed that we had better get there before winter.

And then the night before our anniversary I was with two friends who encouraged me to pack a sentimental picnic of foods that meant something to us. Which tipped me off in the greatest direction. I decided to plan a whole date around the stuff that makes us us.

We were already off to a great start. A picnic at Lake Harriet is perfectly us. So I went to the thrift shop the day of our anniversary and found an awesome picnic basket for five bucks! It had two holders for beverages, but I saw them as flower vase carriers. And since zinnia bouquets are very me, and since I am a part of the us, I brought them along. Then I took down the quilt that we got in Nebraska at the camp quilt auction. It has hung in our bedrooms and Ivar's nursery and seemed to be the fitting blanket for such a special picnic.

I figured out how to download music onto my phone (so proud!!!) so that throughout the picnic I could play him our songs. I played the song we first danced to at our wedding, The Luckiest. And later I played the song that has become our family theme song over the past few years, On the Front Porch. And finally, our favorite version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

We ate Jimmy Johns and then I surprised him with a whole batch of chocolate chip cookies I made that morning and a thermos of ice cold milk. When we first got married we used to buy Sweet Martha's cookie dough at the grocery store and bake the whole bag to eat while watching tv. How we don't both weigh 400 pounds, I'll never know. But when I was thinking through what we loved before we had kids I had to include fresh chocolate chip cookies. I brought apples from our apple trees and raspberries I had picked before we left.

We laid on the blanket for a long time and then tried to take our first selfies. We are new to the world of selfies and laughed so hard trying to get this one, blurry shot. My neck was not cooperating and I was crying I was laughing so hard. When we sat up we found a whole team of bikers parked right by our blanket and Rory commented that they probably thought we were on our first date with the flowers and quilt and silly laughing. And that made me really happy.

We got up and walked around the lake and talked without interruption the whole way. I had brought our frisbee that has been to Nebraska, Montana and Hawaii but it was dark when we got back to the car.

So we went to the Dunn Brothers in Linden Hills and looked through the scrapbook I made years ago of the year of dating before we got married. We read the love letters we wrote to each other and it made us giggle and groan and I think we fell in love with us a little more.

And then the Dunn Brothers closed at 8:30 and we were like, "what the dealio dunn brothers?" So we drove to Barnes and Nobel and played Settlers of Catan and Rory won.

The night was magic. I hadn't put so much thought into a date since we were...dating. I had a blast planning everything and pouring my heart into our time together. I hardly slept the night before I was so excited. No joke. And the whole day as I downloaded our songs onto my phone, baked cookies and picked zinnias I kept thinking about how actually simple this all was and how every wife should plan a date like this. To celebrate all the tiny things that make your marriage uniquely yours.

I can't encourage you more to start making a list: your songs, your foods, your desserts, your books, love poems, games, flowers, your favorite places, your favorite activities, your favorite trips, your favorite hobbies. And then plan a special date. Even if you've been married only 2 years, and especially if you have been married for 52 years...you really should do this.

The funny thing is that I felt a little bashful and dorky as I unveiled the theme for the night. But the second we started listening to our song, the one we danced to nine years ago that night, a sweet love swept over us and I knew it was going to be a great night. And it was. It was one for the record books.

nine year anniversary

I just spent two hours looking through picture files from the last decade. My heart is full and I am so grateful for the man I married nine years ago today. He is quality. He has taken me on some great adventures and I've taken him on some big ones too. The pictures above are roughly each year. It seems we didn't take any pictures of the two of us together while living in Nebraska, a glaring omission. But other than that, these pictures bring back a whole lot of satisfying memories of nine full and happy years.

I've already written about our love story here and here. And I've written more about our marriage here and here. I guess all I really have to say this time around is that I am so grateful he chose me. And I'm so glad I chose him. Rory is solid. He is quality to the bone and I am proud to be living our lives together.