Been a while

Hi darling,

It's been a long time since I wrote you. So much has changed! If you look at the date you'll know that your baby sister or brother is less than six months away. As you grow you'll understand the shifts, the stress, and the sheer chaos the last couple months have been. :) I would prefer to write in your journal, but I don't it with me. (We are at dance.)


You are six.

Six...

I'm letting that roll around in my heart and head.

Darling, on one side it brings me to tears. Imagining my baby has grown into a child, how short of a time I have left with you! (only twice the time we've already spent before you are 18!) It was over six years ago when I first held you in my arms, fed you, felt you breathe upon my chest - and now I can barely pick you up! Yeah, tears swelling now...

In other ways I look at you and think, "only six?" I expect so much from you: Conversation, joy, pretend; reason, help, attention. I lecture you about understanding the idea of working hard as we are rushing out the door, once again late to dance! I remind you that obeying me is the first priority as a kid, and sometimes that means moving quickly! Oh child, I see your father in your response. Your thought through response of "but I don't move fast, and sometimes it's not safe to". I can only imagine your Nana shaking her head as I shake mine - because your words, tone, and heart are so similar to your father. Yet you are so helpful! We spent over a hour going through clothes, trying them on, putting them away, and trying on even more! Yes you whined a bit, but you never argued, never said no, and quickly helped me in the whole process. Yeah, I'm pretty lucky.

I'll be honest, I'm nervous about this next season. Having another one - well it was never a part of my plan. But then again love, neither were you but you have been one of the best gifts I've ever been given and cared for. To parent a child seems easy - it's logical in my head, because most of it is formational, but now it's becoming you internalizing all that I've attempted to teach. It's more and more moments of you asking why, and me leading you through but you don't have to hold my hand if you don't want to. I love you something fierce kid, you are one of my favorite people in the world - truly. I don't look at you like my daughter most days, but this child who bears a crazy resemblance to Phillip and I, and whom I enjoy her mere presence. Yeah, I'm nervous.

Things are going to change. Unless God changes the direction (again), this time next year we will be looking at moving, this time in two years we will be somewhere else perhaps far away from the Southern drawl we've grown accustom to. Will family be near? Or only through the gift of Skype? Will we be friends still? Will you and your dad still be the same? It may be the hormones speaking, but I worry that we won't be the same. But we won't be. Seasons change and so will we - but the power of the Spirit is not dependent on us and She can and will keep us together. We will pray about our family should look like. Schools. Friends. Clothes. Hobbies. Sports. We will make mistakes, but I am a part of you and you are a part of me - we are first the Body of Christ to each other and second anything else. So if I follow Him, and you follow Him too - we will always be together.

Don't forget the Lord darling. Doubt is okay. Our God is not afraid of questions, but be prepared for awe, for wonder, for mystery and space of ambiguity. Yet there is certainty, hope, peace and knowing - truly being known like you'll never experience otherwise. This last Sunday you and two other preschoolers said that you felt something in your hearts like you've never felt before. You called it power. I'm praying, hoping and believing that like I was marked you too will be marked. That years can pass, seasons change and paths go in ways you'd never imagine but the mark in your heart by our Lord will never leave you. When you wake, or as you lie unable to sleep that you'd know He loves you, He has called you to be a part of His life, and the Spirit will never leave you - She broods in our darkest times and dances in our lightest days.

So it's been a while, and likely will be another while before I write to you again. But remember... You are loved. I love you Adelaide Devorah - from your head down to your toes, from your knees to your wiggly nose.

Your Moma

Making a parent

Dearest Adelaide,

As parents we all want to do as well or better than our parents parented us. We hope to help our kids avoid some of the major heart aches, the stream of bad decisions, and the awkward mishaps. At the same time we know you are living your life, so all of the above will happen, but we just hope to have a bit more control over it.

The fact is we want you to be brave, but how we learned bravery may or may not be the way we want to pass it onto you. Thus we may or may not give you similar life experiences of our childhood. Sometimes if we haven't thought through or walked through our own childhoods we won't be able to recognize how we gained certain traits. So we haphazardly react similar situations, relationships and circumstances in hopes to teach you to be brave as we are now. Sometimes we adopt blindly the way our own parents, or grandparents parented us and throw it on you. Rather than asking was that good, how will this individual respond. We just morph the past onto the present without much understanding.

To be honest Adelaide, as you are first (and only right now), you've experienced a hodgepodge of mistakes, of blind adaptation, and quick fixes. You weren't planned to your father and I, so I never read a book. (and let's be honest those blogs and newsletters I got via email were less than helpful most of the time.) I see now the many things I'd do differently, truly the list is long though almost entirely superficial in nature. Your heart is good, and you are so young still my daughter of five, or six in a mere 15 weeks. You can and will grow so much more. I hope I can be found a faithful steward of the precious gift yiu are to us for now. You are not ours to keep, but to care for and love and I hope to do it right.

It's late, but I wanted you to know where I was at as a patent, but know that I'm proud of you, I love you and keep remembering "have a posture of humility" but be strong and courteous my darling.

Love you,
Moma

Mystery

Darling Adelaide.

We often talk about knowing things. I want you to know your letters, your numbers, science, and most especially history. We go over Bible stories over and over in hopes that they stick with you and in turn you will learn to discern them yourself. We speak of God's love, and persons of the Trinity to show you the reason we are, and that you may too love. But darling there is one thing I want you to know that you'll never know.

Mystery.

The Lord while present and near, Jesus as Man and God is both tangible and inexpressible - it is a unique in breaking in our human history and thus it is the greatest of all mysterious. Our theologians will write many words, but the best ones end with "this is mystery". I hope you live in a posture of discovery, and mystery.

Whether it be in learning of the other, discussing hot topic items, or learning more of God - have a posture of humility. You may know, but there is always space to know more fully, to be more faithful in our truth. When you encounter, and I say when because it will happen even everyday, diversity of opinion be the one that speaks softly and loves strongly but is steadfast in Truth. For my beloved Truth became a person, and we know can truly know Truth that is Jesus - but until eternity comes we see but through a veil, a mirror dimmed and so we seek His face ever more.

Stand firm, but do it humbly. Don't let people bully you - but in your strength don't bully others. Give space for the oddity of the other - for perhaps they speak of a part of God that we haven't yet grasped. Know I will always be proud of you and will love you forever. But if you want to know my deepest heart for you daughter, stay in the mystery for everyday is a discovery, every crisis an opportunity for growth, and every peaceful season a time to be thankful. God is bigger than you, His imagination even higher than yours (though it's hard for me to imagine as you dream so beautifully), so if you doubt it's okay - He can handle it. If you wonder know that He is larger than your wonderings. The Word of God is both in the Bible and the person of Jesus - dive into the waters of the Word. Trust in the Spirit as She guides your wondering and hold fast to Jesus for He is the Truth.

So mystery......

"Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you...."
Jeremiah 1:5

Your loving mother,
Traci

Spirit Come - a word

This last weekend you spent three nights at your grandparents house (Dad's parents). I was nervous about leaving you for so long and knowing I was over five hours away, if something went wrong was equally distressing.

Today as we drove home from our time in Illinois, you overheard me tell your Aunt KK that I starting talking like my Canadian friend. I had meant accent, but you heard that she spoke differently than I did. To that you said this to your dad,
"Maybe she got the Holy Spirit."
I didn't hear you so your dad had you repeat it.
"Maybe you got the Holy Spirit, mama."

The reason your dad and I left you with your grandparents was so we could attend the Society of Pentecostal Studies annual meeting. It was my birthday present; the one thing I wanted and we had planned on going for months. Since then your dad had said on more than one occasion that he felt that everything would change going to SPS. He didn't know what but he felt that things would change for me there. And things did change.

Oh, the Spirit moved Adelaide. The Holy Spirit broke forth at this conference of Pentecostal academics - and the moment was tender. The voice of women and men together were given space, and a Pentecostal feminist hermeneutic was spoken that shared the Father's heart towards His daughters and sons. Our current Pastors Cheryl and Jackie were there, and Cheryl presented the above lecture as Jackie chose to sit with us during his wife's presentation.

Daughter, these are two people who have worked many decades to make a place for you at the table. They trudged through when it was not only weird, but unheard of for women theologians in our tradition. In their ministry they made places for young, old, educated, working, male, female, and any other member of the Body of Christ. They crossed ecumenical barriers and created spaces for the diverse Catholic (worldwide) church.

That is your father's and my heart as well. We stand on the shoulders of these spiritual parents, as we also stand on the heritage passed down by our physical parents.You have a deeply rooted faith my darling.

As a Co-heir with Christ you are tied to the first apostles called away from the fishing nets to follow their Messiah. You are connected to the desert fathers whose life of sacrifice led to sanctuary and transformation of nations. You are held by the Saints of the centuries whose acts of selflessness through giving to the poor, speaking truth, and caring for the degenerate preserved a people and our faith. The same Spirit that lives within you moved the masses in the hills of Kentucky to form the Restoration Movement and would later shake the Appalachian mountains to awaken a people to follow God in new ways in the Christian Union. You're a daughter of the masses who made a stand against social injustice and racial discrimination as they felt the latter rain fall upon them at Azusa Street. You are sisters with Lillian Thrasher the Assembly of God missionary who disregarded all social norms and went to Egypt to care for the Arab orphans - marking the Middle East for Christ in new ways. (Much like her predecessor Margaret Gaines in the Church of God in Israel.) You are the great granddaughter of a holy rolling Street preacher, who had his door always open. Your great grandmother and his partner in life and ministry was a worshipping jazz singer that invited us into her life story and was able to engulf us all into Christ's larger story. You are the granddaughter of pastors who operated in integrity, and truly lived our James 2 by taking in orphans into their own home. Your the granddaughter of a prophet whose heart for Israel formed my own missional heart, and my mother whose heart and legacy is still being formed to fully capture the Father's heart.

My daughter, as we go into this unknown age. Whether postmodern or fluid, secular or agnostic, pluralistic or segregated, persecuted or exalted please know this - you are deeply rooted in a faith that is both local and global, present and eternal. So yes, the Holy Spirit came upon your mama. But not in the way you meant (though who knows what the future holds?) but in the way I needed: bringing sanctification, and passion back into my faith. Thank you for submitting to the voice of God. Daughter, don't give up not now, nor ever; it's not easy - losing hope can be seductive - but the Spirit is moving. She is grieving over the lost, brooding in the lack of understanding and transforming us through the Word as we move closer to the heart of God.

Speak your voice daughter. Sing it loudly!  No one can take away the right given to you by the Creator of the universe.
Move forward, and as you go forth, never forget where you came from; root yourself in the sounds of the Saints who have gone before you.

I love you.

A random thought

Be who you are.

I know it's silly and small in space but darling be who you are. I'm guilty of pushing you to fit in, to conform in spirit to those around you - to play the diplomat. But Adelaide we need every type of person in order to know God rightly.

So if you are as unique as them come, setting new standards and not fitting in any boxes - then fully be you.

If you are a middle of the road type, strong in your convictions but fluctuating it's modes than darling - be who you are.

Don't let anyone crush you spirit. Lay your life down for your friend, and turn the other cheek with your enemy. Don't give up on anyone, and keep speaking and singing truth.

Today I am away from you as you are with your Nana and Poppy. I love you Adelaide.

My real self

As we are driving on our way to Nana and Poppy's house you had the following conversation.

"I'm going to tell you something that you can't tell no one."

"okay." Me

"You know I feel my real self, like the part of the me that is the most real when like... When I am listening to music, I feel like my real self. It makes me feel like I'm home."

So here's to you my darling. I pray you always find freedom in song, and the music of the heavens draws you into the eternal melody of our Creator. May you find your real self in the moments of true worship.

I love you.

Washing Feet

Saturday night I had a party - it was a spa type party, definitely not my normal social gathering. As you were playing outside we soaked our feet. Occasionally you'd sneak into the apartment and watch what we were doing, at one point you even sat and watch us. We were soaking our feet in tubs very similar to the ones wash basins we use at church. 

I never grew up with a thought of footwashing. The only time I saw this sacrament practiced was at very religious weddings, and even then it was always the groom washing the brides feet - and to me it seemed weird and even sexist. Before New Covenant I never knew the church still practiced foot washing as a spiritual discipline, so while we taught you about communion almost everyday I never mentioned the other. 

Sunday morning we came to church early to setup our preschool lesson. You ran up to me asking, "Momma can I wash your feet during worship? Can you wash my feet?" I quickly said yes, because honestly I didn't know what else to say. I went up to Pastor Jackie asking if it was okay to do that with a five year old, as honestly I didn't know if you even understood it. 

Were you wanting a spa party? Or did you understand that it was a spiritual act of worship?

Pastor Jackie responded saying, "It is better to catch faith than to teach faith." 

I made sure you understood it wasn't a spa party, and you did - but made sure I knew you wanted a spa party for your birthday. So we agreed we'd wash each others feet. 

To be honest I forgot as I was outside in the foyer greeting people, but you ran up and grabbed me asking "Momma when are we washing feet?" After communion I sat down and took your shoes off, and washed your feet - praying for you that God would strengthen you, drawing you into the light of His glory, and making you new. 

You then washed my feet, your little hands wiping my large feet with the wet paper towel, as I talked you through what to do.

See Adelaide, I've only had my feet washed once before, and I wept the whole time as Jenna Kraft washed away my dirt, her physical actions mirroring the Holy Spirit's actions in my soul. I had always been wary of it, yet you were free in your inquiry, and actions. I am humbled by you.

Whether you washed my feet to be like the grown ups at the spa party, or because you wanted to humbly act in relation with the Holy Spirit - it doesn't matter, you acted, believed, and trusted. 

It seemed God's providence to have us trust each other in that moment, as later on you would have an accident in the bathroom at church. You felt shame, and feared my anger - and rather than exploding like I fight, I felt compassion and your shame was able to be washed away. 

Dearest Adelaide thank you for washing my feet, and for allowing me to wash yours.