There is no rush this morning because we live in the crazy south where cold weather is anticipated with fear, and therefore all schools and most businesses have been cancelled for this wintery Friday. We “expect” snow, like one baby inch of it. I think of my mother going about her life in three feet of it in Northern Michigan and it makes me laugh to see the panic in these southerners. (There is nothing in the local news except the impending weather…and chaos in Egypt.) The photo is of my neighbor’s water fountain. The roads also have a deceptive blanket of danger draped over them.
All around me my family sleeps freely without the threat of an alarm call. I look forward to having many sets of hands to help me with Kira today. It feels like I have two Saturdays in a row. It might just be possible for me to finally “catch up” with my life. If I can get a sense of being current tucked into my belt it will satisfy my need to know that I am able to handle this new life with baby. Being current will help me manage what comes in so I can delegate how to get it out in good time. I am not there yet, but I see not just a pinhole of light, but a great blazing light and a thick ribbon for me to break through. I need that symbol of the finish line. I’ll do my own cheering, I don’t need a crowd. I just want to know I made it, and I won’t even check the timing of my race. I am on baby time now.
When new projects are offered or suggested I can shake my head and decline with a “no thank you”. I have five children, a husband to love, a book to write and an exciting ministry with an orphanage in Uganda. I have never felt so complete. There is a knowing that all my puzzle pieces are present and facing up, none of them are missing under a rug or left behind in a different box. We haven’t assembled all of the picture yet, but that’s the amusing part. I hope my whole life is spent fitting pieces together.
The challenge for now is I’m working with a one-handed life. If I can do a favor or a task with one hand while I support a twenty pound curious baby with the other on a built in hipbone shelf then I will consider doing anything. But if it requires both hands, well the hours in my day are all accounted for and doled out.
My two handed crafts projects have been tucked in to bed for a long winter’s nap. I haven’t picked up my knitting needles once since getting my hands on my baby. I shrug and think “So what”. It’s not my turn to knit for her. A friend of mine did, though, and I shrieked when I opened the package and pulled out a colorful, hand knit cardigan sweater in an intricate pattern…made for Kira. She is so loved by so many far and wide across my life. I had to sit and hold it and run my fingers over the stitches and feel the prayers interwoven with the yarn.
Linda Guiles made this sweater for our sweet girl. Linda lives in Virginia and we have a special history. When Craig and I were married he took his first job with Pepsi–Cola and they dropped us in Roanoke Virginia. It was the first stop in our life of many interesting places and we were fresh and new to adult life. We lived in an apartment just walking distance from a shopping center where I discovered a needle shop. So I asked for a part time job. Linda and her husband, Rob, owned the shop. I earned money, but all of it was spent on yarn, patterns and enough supplies to begin my own shop, and that’s probably why we didn’t have two cars. It wasn’t long before Craig and I decided to go to church, because I believed that’s what our life as adults should look like. We had no faith at that point, but we were open to discover some. Rob was a deacon at Bonsack Baptist Church and they invited us to visit. We met Jesus at that church, and that was the beginning of a devoted love and lifelong learning with God’s Word. That was over twenty years ago, and here, today, I received a hand knit sweater from my special friend who at one point in my life was an angel sent to me so I could know my Creator.
This is not only a gift for Kira. It is a gift I treasure as well. I seriously am thinking I will photograph her in it, and then frame it for the wall because it means so much to me. It represents a history of Christ’s love reaching far and wide and how it just pinched me at the right time by the right person so long ago. That encounter changed everything in my life.
Sometimes I have this sense that Kira belongs to everyone who touched our spiritual growth. I want to share the miracle of her life with us with everyone who reached out to us and encouraged us, taught us, and served alongside of us. Thank you. You know who you are. I hope you will partner with us in raising Kira to be the woman God has planned for her. It does take a village.