Today was a day of small-scale redemptions given by a large-scale Caretaker.
A "redemption," as I'm using the word, means a saving from something bad or a turning something bad into something good.
Today's redemptions started with a canker sore. My canker sore. I'll try not to be graphic, but imagine a canker sore. Now imagine your tongue. Now imagine your back molars. Now imagine doing ANYTHING with your mouth. And there you have it.
I woke up feeling pretty upset that I needed to go through my day basically without talking. But having to be as taciturn as possible led to some wonderfully-unexpected things.
The first was the discovery that 5-year old G can successfully read silently! I felt so much freedom in being able to write little notes for him and having him relay them to his brother. At first, he would read them aloud, but then I noticed that he looked at the page, and then looked at me and nodded. I wrote out another question for him to "check for understanding" (Jay's educator lingo has rubbed off on me), and sure enough, he had comprehended it all without sounding it out!
There's one little redemptive moment.
Another canker sore redemption came in the form of being able to spend two hours planning two parties with my sister. How, you ask? Google chat. And how was I able to spend that time sitting at the computer without constantly refereeing my kids? Well, since they knew I had a big owie, they pretty much entertained themselves and left me alone. If I had been healthy and talking on the phone, rather than on chat, they would have been vying for my attention.
Redemption numero dos!
Leaving the canker sore aside for the moment, let's move on to Bermuda grass. Many people may think of sand when they hear Bermuda, but I think of grass. And want to scream.
For anyone who doesn't know, Bermuda grass is virtually indestructible, and as it turns out, it doesn't compost. Its little broken-up stems stay dry and brown for 6 months, get put into your brand new garden, and then come back to life. And spread. Oh yes.
My big goal for today--after party planning--was to get the last of my seeds and my little baby plants into the garden. But when I got outside, I realized I was going to have to pull weeds first. As the sun beat on my neck, my hands grew muddied, and my knees creaked, I had the urge to curse the curse of weeds.
And then followed the first Bermuda redemption. G observed me struggling on my hands and knees and asked, "Mommy, if God made weeds because the first people did bad things, how come we have to have weeds too?" In as few words as possible, I explained that every single person who came after has done bad things too, except One. Weeding leading to spiritual conversations? I'd call that redemptive.
But turning the weed time drain into something good didn't end there. Now, I had planned to come outside, dig a few holes to transplant my seedlings, pop a few seeds in the ground, and call it good--all before lunchtime, of course. But after an hour of the Battle of Bermuda, the boys wanted lunch. And I wanted to keep working. And then came the discovery that my Baby G is now Big Boy G. For the first time ever, he fixed lunch himself! Following my instructions, he served cold hot dogs with ketchup and whole apples. Not the most glam meal ever, but both boys ate without me stepping foot in the house. Yes!
Canker sores and Bermuda grass can both be physically and emotionally sapping, but in the grand scheme of things, they're pretty minor. There is a much less minor "owie" in my heart, and tonight I spent time wrapped in Jay's arms, crying and missing my mom-in-law. It's hard to imagine anything good for us coming of her death. But if my Redeemer cares about the little things enough to transform them, I believe He can transform these big hurts too. I don't know how, but I know He can. And today, that's enough for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment