Precious Moments

Last night my mom and dad helped all four of the kids put together a puppet show for my birthday. It was all priceless, including my dad's shivering rabbit with an English accent, Brandt's puns delivered without understanding, Gresham's queen slapping the king because he wanted to go out hunting foxes (I hope that vignette wasn't gleaned from everyday experience), Eva poking her head through the stage to say that the king was taking a trip to Oakland, and Seth's dialogue-free, action-packed fight. We laughed and laughed.

Earlier in the day, I took Brandt out with me on a "date." We painted 18 tiles at our local paint-your-own-pottery and then ate a great lunch. From there we went to a local antique store and had one of those too-weird-to-brush-off providential experiences...

For 6 years Brian has been searching for a church pew to put in an entryway or mudroom area. For years both the extra space in the house and the pew have eluded us. Several options have presented themselves but the timing or the product or the price were always off somehow. Nevertheless Brian clung to the idea and I've joked with him that the next thing he'll be buying is an antique pulpit so that we can do family worship right! When we measured our mudroom for a bench, its 100" length suggested either a behemoth bench or the as-yet-unlocated church pew. But here we sit in Southern Oregon--not exactly a thriving church culture. Why didn't we find something when we actually lived in the Bible Belt? I looked a bit online and couldn't find anything in decent repair for less than $700--unless I was willing to fly to England--and that wasn't in the budget for this (or any) month. Yesterday I walked into Spring Street Antiques with Brandt and told the owner that I was looking for a bench, to which she replied, "How about a church pew?" The quip that my brain unwillingly offered but that my mouth refused to say was, "Did the Holy Spirit tell you to say that?" I followed her husband out to the side yard where he showed me an 8 foot (and 1 inch) wide, sturdy and plain orange church pew. Yes, I did say orange. At $115 it was perfect. We bought it and thanked the Lord.

From the antique store, Brandt and I progressed to Home Depot where I bought the kitchen sink for our new house. I scooted it out into the aisle and Brandt convinced me that the two of us could pick it up and put it in the cart together, despite its being nearly my size and two times his weight. But I was so impressed by his valor that I put my better judgement aside and the two of us picked it up. Alas, (Brandt's) height was not on our side and we had to be rescued by two kind construction workers shopping nearby. After we paid there was still the matter of getting it into the car; but through Brandt's determination and a bit of female ingenuity, we managed. From there Brandt offered to take the cart back to its spot. As he was taking the cart, it escaped his control and he had to run after it. I was impressed by his situational awareness and then even more so when he chased another runaway cart and brought it back to its rightful place. He didn't even know anyone was watching. It was another precious moment.

As I got ready for bed last night, I ran through the events of the day in my mind. I was full of the scenes that make a woman grateful to be a mom. Yesterday the blessings showered down and it was good to bear the title "Mom." But as I contemplated Proverbs 31, I realized that THAT wife/mother is never mentioned in combination with puppet shows, lunches out, shopping trips or situationally aware children. Not that I think she would have a problem with such things if she could fathom the leisure time required to enjoy them , but she seems to be so "un-21st century." She's all about drudgery and labor--without making them drudgery and labor. She's inextricably linked with the kinds of precious moments brought about by hard work. I'm pretty sure she never read "Parenting" magazine because "quality time" wasn't mentioned once. She works with her hands. She grows her own food. She rises early--to which my 21st century mind and body say "argh!" Her arms are strong from growing grapes and laboring hard. She stays up late at night--not chatting by the fire but WORKING. She clothes her family and cares for the poor. She sells the excess of her labors and covers every bit of the work with wisdom, kindness and compassion. Not a word is mentioned about "mom things"--no planning the family vacation, reading on the couch, going to the gym, coaching the soccer team, or tickle wars. She may have some of that and yet it is not for those 21st century reasons that her children rise up and called her "Blessed."

As I contemplated the precious moments of yesterday, I was well aware that today I would not be queen for the day. And yet somehow God reminded me that the moments of work and discipline, cleaning and directing, monotonous though they may be, are His work. They are precious moments in His sight if they are covered with wisdom, kindness, and compassion. Father, make it so...





It was one of those moments when it is good to be a mom. Or so I think.