You'll Be In My Heart

I felt like they would forever be little. Caitlyn and Chase, my daughter and son, came into the world and brought with them enough love and joy to last me a lifetime. I can remember sitting in my hospital bed after each of their births, holding them, and staring into their faces. The emotions of connection and love were overwhelming.

Almost exactly three years apart in age, this sister-brother combo filled our lives with their busyness and their fierce love for each other. Of course, there were also tears, fits, fights, and frustrations, but those were far outweighed by the joy of their young years.

I look at this picture of them, and I feel like that young girl and boy are still with me - and in many ways they are. A parent's remembrances and connections don't end when her children are grown. They still fill our lives with their busyness, and they still love each other fiercely, but Caitlyn and Chase have now grown into responsible adults.

On one recent winter weekend in south Georgia, the realization that my children have grown up was made evident. On that afternoon, beside a beautiful old oak tree, Chase proposed to his girlfriend, Ashlyn. With a sparkly ring in hand, the question was asked, and a squeal of delight sealed the deal. We are gaining a daughter, and my little boy is becoming a husband. My shy boy who used to talk to me with two pacifiers hanging out of his mouth is

going to be a groom. Be still my heart.

After the celebrations of the proposal had died down, and we had retreated to our hotel for the evening, Caitlyn and her husband Brennan said they had a present for us to open. Sitting on the hotel bed, I unwrapped a box that contained a small onesie that said, "first grandbaby." After a long period of waiting and hoping, their dream was coming true (so was ours). A baby is coming! With this announcement came more squeals and tears. Our little girl, who spent her days playing with dolls is about to have a real live doll of her own. She and Brennan are going to be the best parents. They have so much love to give this baby. Be still my heart.

Needless to say, I was on emotion overload. But there was joy! Finally, joy had come back into our lives after a period of deep heartache. These two beautiful children that Cass and I loved into adulthood are on their own journeys of building families of their own. It is the circle of life playing out right before our eyes.

I think that it is only natural to think back on your children's days of growing up when big things like this happen in their lives. When Caitlyn and Chase were little, one of my favorite times was our Friday nights together. That was the night we would head to Blockbuster to rent a movie (there was no Netflix or Hulu in those days). We would get out the sleeping bags and make a bed for them on the floor of our den and watch a movie together. The movies that were chosen were often Disney movies. One of my favorites was Tarzan. I could identify with Kala (the adoptive mother gorilla) who comforts Tarzan with a beautiful song. "You'll be in my heart...from this day on, now, and forevermore."

I can't listen to that song without tears. Every parent holds their child deep within their heart in a space that is occupied by only that child. Each milestone, each heartache, each remembrance is held there. I am so grateful to have had the privilege of parenting Caitlyn and Chase. As we enter this new territory of being family, we will still hold each other in love and walk this new road together. To them I say, you will always be those blonde-haired, blue-eyed babies that your father and I adored. And we will forever hold you in our hearts...from this day on, now, and forevermore.

Belonging

Three days a week, I teach art at an elementary school. Due to the recent rise of Omicron cases, my principal requested that all teachers maintain a seating chart in their classes. This was to enable her to easily identify students who might come in close contact with an infected student. In a week, I see 400 students for a total of 18 different classes equaling 18 different seating charts.

I knew that my students would not be enthusiastic about this plan. After a week of working with homeroom teachers to set up the seating charts, the day had come to implement the arrangements that we had made. I watched as my students entered the art room. I knew there would be sighs and “ughs,” but what I hadn’t anticipated were the verbal protests hurled towards fellow students. “Nerd.” “I can’t sit by him!” “She bothers me.” “I don’t like him!” “She’s so stupid!” Literally, children will say aloud how they feel about someone. There was no beating around the bush. That day they brought their attitudes, frustrations, opinions, and feelings right into the middle of my classroom.

I went to the marker board and wrote “respect” on it. We talked about what respect means and that I expect it to be exercised in my classroom. I hope that whether or not my students can color between the lines or know the difference between a primary color and a secondary color, they will know what it means to respect themselves, their fellow students, and their teachers.

My heart breaks daily. My school is filled with children who aren’t respected at home, so they don’t know how to respect someone else at school. Some are hungry and tired because their home isn’t a restful, nurturing place. Others hear abuse heaped on them by adults, so why should I expect them to be able to say kind things to their fellow students. The bottom line is that many of them don’t know what it feels like to be loved or to belong.

I thought about my students when I read Brian McLaren’s words from his book, We Make the Road by Walking. He reminded me that God’s love – the good news of the gospel - is for my students and people like them. It is for those who are broken, dirty, scared, mean, and hurting.

McLaren reminds us what a group of ragtag people the disciples were. These witnesses to the incarnation of the gospel left a lot to be desired. If I remember correctly, they once argued over a seating chart too! Despite their sometimes less than appealing demeanor, they were a part of the most beautiful movement of love that has ever come upon the earth.

"So fellowship is for scarred people, and for scared people, and for people who want to believe but aren't sure what to believe again, to hope again, to live again."

McLaren says, “The uprising of the gospel isn’t just for brave people, but for scared folks like [the disciples] who are willing to become brave. It isn’t just for believers, but for doubting folks like Thomas who want to believe in spite of their skepticism. It isn’t just for good people, but for normal, flawed people like you and me and Thomas and Peter.”

He goes on to say, “So fellowship is for scarred people, and for scared people, and for people who want to believe but aren’t sure what or how to believe again, to hope again, to live again.

The fact is that some of my students are a little nerdy. Some of them aren’t very kind. Some aren’t bright, and some of them do get on each other’s nerves – mine too. But they all belong. They belong in my classroom. They belong in this space where they can create and express themselves through art. They each deserve my love and attention. Most importantly, they all belong in the fellowship of God’s children.

I imagine that for each of us, there is a place where we feel left out of God’s grace and love. God calls us to come as we are – to bring our tired, nerdy self and plop right down in God’s grace. It really is for us. This love that we hear preached and proclaimed is for us – not just for the cleaned-up pretty people. Don’t sit on the outside. Step in and receive the love that God has to offer you. Be brave and belong.

Moving Bravely Towards Epiphany

Three days a week, I teach art at an elementary school. In my teaching, I have learned that there are two kinds of students who enter my classroom. One type of student is eager and excited to create, and the other type is hesitant and almost fearful of the creative process.

In my classroom, the rule is that my students must try. I tell them that what they make is their unique creation, and I promise that I will not judge it. Regardless of the outcome, I declare it to be beautiful and wonderful. I praise and encourage those who come with hesitancy, and I have learned that for those students it takes a measure of bravery to put paint (or marker, or crayon) to paper. When the courage comes to them, I will often see pride expressed on their face as they make something that is uniquely their own.

Like my hesitant students, it takes a measure of bravery for us to move out of the joy and warmth of Christmas into the uncertainty of Epiphany. Like those pagan astronomers from “afar” who left their home in search of the Christ child, we must also venture out. The magi had to see for themselves what the star was guiding them to discover. They suspected that the light was leading them to something amazing and holy.

Where is the light calling you? How is it asking you to be brave and courageous? Just like the magi, we are called to strike out on our own journey – a journey that will take us from our familiar place to something unknown. When we put away the gifts of Christmas and take down the tree, the work of dwelling with God is just beginning. The spiritual journey that lies before us will take a measure of braveness. We will have to reach down into the depths of our being, and honestly, we might not like what we find there. It will take courage to look within and then take the next steps – steps that will lead us to connect with our true selves, to know our souls, and to abide with God.

"Something beyond them was calling them, and it was a tug they had been waiting for all their lives."

Epiphany can be a wonderful season for those who are on a spiritual journey of transformation. The light beckons us to arise and shine. Barbara Brown Taylor speaks of the journey of the magi in this way: “Once upon a time, there were some very wise men who were all sitting in their own countries minding their own business when a bright star lodged in the right eye of each of them. It was so bright that none of them could tell whether it was burning in the sky or in their own imagination, but they were wise enough to know that it didn’t matter. The point was, something beyond them was calling them, and it was a tug they had been waiting for all their lives.”

Be brave…follow the tug of your heart…arise and shine for your light has come!