Why I Chose a Joseph's Coat Climbing Rose

Two weeks ago, our wonderful nanny came in and broke the bad news. She gave us a month's notice and told us that she had to move to Fayetteville to help her daughter, who is expecting her second. The first grandson is getting bit at daycare, and the prices are going up. It was too much for a good mother to stand by and watch her grown daughter endure.

After I recovered, I realized what an incredible gift this woman was able to give, and I rejoiced. (It took me a few minutes to recover, but I did eventually rejoice!) We have been so blessed to have two wonderful women share in caring for our son during his first two years. It has allowed me to continue my professional ministry without undue worry about his happiness, and I have grown to see how important it is for children to be loved by people other than their doting parents. "Mar-Mar" has given countless hours and attention, teaching our son some of his first words, helping him learn colors, explore the great outdoors, and, most importantly, letting him know that he can rely on the big people in his life to help him grow. How does one replace such a relationship? You can't, and that's where working mothers (and fathers) go nuts.

So, there we were, the weekend before Holy Week, signing up with online nanny services and posting our nanny job description on craigslist. As the applicants made contact, we began to breathe a bit easier, but my husband and I could not shake the sadness we felt at losing such an important part of our lives and our child's life.

The sadness, like that felt by those first disciples who followed Jesus, is a strong indicator that we have loved and been committed. When we feel sad, it is quite often the result of losing something or someone we hold precious. Holy Week is full of sadness: Jesus' last meal with his friends, his last everything, including his last breath. Just when we think we cannot tolerate one more part of this sad story, Mary meets a gardener who turns out to be Jesus. The disciples on that dusty road meet a stranger who turns out to be Jesus.

In other words, "Mar-Mar" has to leave our family now, but her love and the gifts she has given to us will never die. They live in every wonderful act of ministry she has offered and in the way she has brought out the best in all of us.

We've been trying to decide what gift to present her when she works her last day. She has admired some climbing roses in our front yard. Last year when a branch broke off, and she was able to root it, but she laughs that it will take forever for it to grow into a real rose bush with gorgeous blooms. Under her care, it will probably flourish. But just so we hope she will not forget us soon, we're sending her on with a Joseph's Coat climber (that's the name of our climbing rose with the showy orange and reddish blooms).

What else could a preacher give someone who has helped her tend to her most precious living flower?

Palm Sunday Gets a Ride

My husband and I recently took our 21-month-old son to a cowboy-themed party for twin six-year-olds.  It was really exciting.  There were about forty kids running around jumping on a trampoline, climbing on a playground equipment, riding ponies, banging electric cars, and shooting hoops.  We helped pass out deputy badges.  (My husband played the part of sheriff). But we also did a lot of observing.  Our kid's so much younger that we all--all three of us--just stared in amazement at the sheer chaos.  It was like the Wild West.  I wasn't sure any one was in charge!

I used to be in charge.  I was organized.  I exercised.  I paid the bills on time.  I got sermons done on time.  I had time for everybody.  Since becoming a mom, I've had to admit it.  I'm not in charge anymore.  That means I have to let go more.  And, I'm not the "let go" kind of person, which means I'm always struggling to get my chores done and allow play time to happen.  I've come to realize that play time is very important.  It's important when you're 21-months, and it's important when you're, uh, well, when you're my age.

That's why I called up Miss Toby, the woman who was hired to bring all the animals to the birthday party.  Miss Toby has a dance academy, trains dogs, has a petting zoo, and a farm.  She also has a donkey, and I've been looking for a donkey for six years to play the part of the humble burrow who carries Jesus for his triumphant ride into Jerusalem the week before his death and resurrection.   I finally found him, and he's one mellow donkey.  Miss Toby was thrilled because she said everyone always wants the ponies, and the donkey never gets the starring role.   I also found some lambs and bunnies to come join us on Palm Sunday and hang out in the courtyard.  All our children can come outside, pet the animals, play, and then participate in the worship processional as we throw down the palm leaves before the donkey rides past.

Palm Sunday is partly the story about how Jesus let's go.   He puts himself and his ministry in other's hands.  They will have to choose whether he is their Messiah or their enemy.  He lets go because Jesus trusts the living God.  I'm not sure we humans are to be trusted, but Jesus didn't get caught up in basing his decisions on our lack of perfection.  

Faith is about trust in God.  It doesn't mean we don't do our part, but it does mean that at some point in the faith journey we aren't in charge of everything, every one, or every outcome.   It means we recognize that in the ministry of God's creativity in the world, in the universe and in our lives, we aren't in charge ultimately.   

And here's what I say about that.  Whew!

Let's play!

Peace,

Rev. Betsy