Some Thankful Things

Towards the end of the summer, my friend Rachel contacted me with an idea. Our daughters were heading towards the end of Children In Worship, which is  a program that goes on during our church service for children in preschool through second grade. Rachel wondered if I’d be interested in working with her to give the “older younger” kids a chance to process the scripture our pastor would preach on through painting, journaling, and other creative outlets. This seemed like something that is right up my alley, so I said yes, and for the past three months, Rachel and I have taken turns sitting with three or four girls and talking about the Bible through coloring, and painting, and it’s been lovely getting to know these kids who I used to hold on my hip and stack blocks with a few short years ago.

One of the girls has a longer version of my name. Another recently moved here from Chicago and she and I have talked about Gino’s East and the Sears Tower. Rachel’s daughter has the best smile I’ve ever seen. I have a long history with the other sweet gal who shows up, her bright eyes always ready for a story. I’ve known her daddy since we were 20, and her mom is one of the coolest, funniest people I’ve met. And of course, there’s Hadley; she and I get to sit with and talk about Bible stories together.  It’s good sitting with these young ladies on a Sunday morning.

This past Sunday, our pastor wrote a sermon on Genesis 49-50. This is the story of Jacob’s death and Joseph’s forgiveness of his brothers.  I decided to focus on Genesis 50:20: “God intended it for good, to accomplish what is now being done”.  The girls and I talked about inheritance and some of the things we have that we know we got from our parents: our eye and hair color, but also our personality traits and our interests. “Where do you get your love of reading from?” I asked one. “Do you like science like your daddy?” “Are you an artist like your mom?”

I had the girls trace their hands for turkeys, and in the center they wrote their names. “Can we write them fancy?” they asked, to which I (of course) replied, “Yes.”

I told the girls that God takes parts of us, even our mistakes and sins, and He can use them for good, as he did with Joseph and his brothers.  I love that part when Joseph tells his brothers, “Don’t be scared.” What a gracious way to forgive someone.

Next, we read the story, Don’t Let Auntie Mabel Bless the Table.” It’s a cute little story about a lady who has Sunday dinner for her friends and family at her home. Before eating though, she wants to pray. Not a bad thing, except her prayers take forever. Everyone is starving, and annoyed, and some even fall asleep. It all works out in the end and everyone in the book has a full tummy by the last page.

We talked a little about Thanksgiving and what our plans would be for the day.  I passed out paper, stencils, stickers, and crayons and told the girls to write a prayer they could either say on Thanksgiving, or give to their family to say.  “It’s a surprise,” I told them. So they got to work again, talking and drawing and writing about all the things they are thankful for.

We rolled the prayers up and I tied bows around them, and sent the girls off to get treats after church. They ran up and down the hallway, giggling, and Hadley and Harper were among them, laughing and running, too.

At the time of my posting this, I will be nine days away from turning 40. It occurred to me recently that I have spent my 30s in the Washington DC area, and that seems significant. Jesse and I have struggled to find our way here; the DC area is not an easy place financially to live. In that sense, the city has broken my heart. But about 72 hours before I was in church, I was with Rachel and some other ladies in DAR Constitution Hall watching Willie Nelson get the Gershwin Prize for Popular Song. This summer I sat with my friend Cara and our kids at The National Theatre and we watched the production of Roald Dahl’s The BFG. I got to perform on stage in Arlington with a group of ladies who believe in the power of stories. I’ve been to two Easter Egg Rolls at the White House. I have a friend in Alexandria who is a writer and we’ve met at a delicious cheese and wine shop and talked shop. When I visit her, I take the George Washington Parkway, and on the way home I pull over to try and get a shot of Georgetown, the Kennedy Center, and the Cathedral all across the river. In so many ways the DC area is where I got my start, and I think that more than breaking my heart, DC has mended and grown it.

So on this Thanksgiving, I’m thankful that DC is the place I spent my 30s: where I learned to be a teacher again, where I became a mother, where I learned how to write better, where I made friends, where I have had a chance to think about and see God accomplishing things for good; no matter the broken and sinful heart that these things come from.