I went to a show last night... a dress rehearsal for a upcoming road show. The only info I had prior to was that it was 30 minutes outside of Nashville and show up at 6. Ok that was not quite all but I knew enough that this was an important event for a friend. My mantra of late has been to "keep showing up" to opportunities, to new things, to life. I'm working hard not to repeat the patterns of my past or those patterns that paralyze me. It's not easy but is getting easier. So I show up.

While I watched this production, I noticed a little girl sitting behind me wide eyed with wonder. She was maybe 5. We made friends at the intermission, over a game of peek-a-boo. As the second act started, I offered her my chair on the front row just by the stage. Her mom encouraged her and stayed right behind.  

I watched my new little friend watch big people sing and dance and live their dreams. The Sun Chips she clutched were her security blanket. They eventually just sat in her lap as she lost herself in the music. She tired in the second act and soon her brother started a meltdown so she was off to bed. With a pinky promise given and a high five. 

Today I ran and walked with friends who remembered their own dreams and some who need to be reminded of them. We talked of our 9 yr old selves or 19 yr old selves that still live in us and the little girls that need tending. 

Too often we think we "grow up" when instead I think we "grow away". Away from who we are or thought we were or even who we want to be. And it takes someone to invite us to the front row of our lives to help us see ourselves again. Older sure but still the little ones we were. 

I give thanks for those who are helping me put the pieces back. Some pull those pieces from a long long time ago. Some remind of my place here where I am. Some are reminding me of new ways to be. 

As we go along and re-member ourselves, I hope as we get tired, we continue to dream and hope and sit on the front row of life. All in the the thick of it. Together. We really can't do it any other way. 

Epiphany Kids

Yesterday was Epiphany. 

Traditionally celebrated as the day the wise men find the baby Jesus. 

It was also one of those whiplash days when I wonder where the balance of life can be found. They don't come often. 

In the morning, my family celebrated the day when a second parent adoption was granted for two little ones. We welcomed them into the world in June. For once in a long while, the state of Tennessee did a good job. The judge in the case had granted their big brother adoption 5 years ago. So all three children “get” two parents that they already had and already knew. A seal, if you will, on a family already made. 

That was the morning.

The afternoon was spent visiting with a little boy whose mother will die in the next month. He jumped into my arms as I got out of the car. We first met one warm summer day and in order to calm him down a bit, we did yoga. For some reason he loved it and we do it every time we get together. I taught him the motions to “YMCA”. We learned to read. He drew me pictures. We pray a body prayer every time I leave, gathering our arms to ourselves, raising them to God, receiving Gods love and sending that love into the world. His school photo is on my refrigerator.

I went to bed last night processing the day. A day of great joy certainly. A day of relentless sadness. A day I held held children in the hope I could love them.

 I realized more than anything, that while we pray over our children and pray they are protected and work as hard as we can to care for them, the world happens. Life happens. We can’t protect them from anything really. Hell, we can’t protect ourselves from much.

The best we can do is give them tools to get through. Safe spaces to cry. Listen to their lives. Hold hands together so we aren’t so small when the world is so big that we can’t get our arms around it.

Praying for the grace to see ourselves through.