All my children

Just now, I realized that I am a disturbingly picky person. It took me a few seconds to decide which particular mug to drink my tea from. obviously, the mug must fit my mood, the beverage, and the time of day. The morning coffee cups are functional, plain and not to distract me from the goodness they hold. Their job is sacred. Deliver caffeine to my face. Evening mugs are completely different. They are to be enjoyed and contemplated. Beauty and process appreciated. Tonight's is a burgundy handmade tall one with a reminding crack down one side. Simple shape and horrendously insulated so you burn your hands and have to drink slowly. Please know that I am fully aware that you have better things to do with your time than read about my mug choices. But you are reading a blog, so you must enjoy glimpses into people's worlds be they mundane or riveting. There are millions of excuses I could give for not writing. My reason of the day varies like my mug choice. Today's is that I haven't had a writing "space." Even that can't keep these words from flowing tonight. I plopped my writing desk and favorite blue lamp smack in front of the window of our front room which is thoroughly and completely a construction zone right now. The view outside is a yard filled with dirt and overgrown flower bed. Fortunately the 6 foot tall lilies dominate and quickly capture your attention.

The wonderful wreckage of our 113 year old home being revamped is besides the point however. What is bursting from my fingers is the idea that still God has me bridging. A theme that was chosen someone flippantly still continues to work its way into my life. God is good to prepares us with names that will remind us that He was with us then and now. Now I stretch. Bridging the world of adult; traditionally employed, home owning, parenting, married, churchgoing, yard-working, lady and that of the hidden young faces on the sidewalks and shelters of our town. Last week at my softball game (see, I'm even on a women's softball team!) I walked through the parking lot and saw a license plate hold that read, "I'd rather be watching Ellen." yes, of course it was on a Subaru. How typical. This world just an hour after leaving the world of a 20 year old who was hit and hurt as a kid, finds whatever they can to feel better now, can't quite follow through enough to come to a GED class twice a week, swears up and down (and in my face) that its all my fault, lands them-self in jail then wonders why their dad doesn't comes to visit. How typical.

They are both gorgeous in their honesty. and they don't typically talk with each other. Which do I stand aligned with? Both, at the exact same time. And then there's my children. All my children. None biological at this point and three that are truly family. Three beautiful children that sleep at home and raid the fridge. I am more grateful than anyone can really know that I get to be a part of their lives as they unfold in uniquely fruitful and challenging ways. Then there's the children that I see at work. I hear their stories and secrets and am tasked with the job of supporting them to become "self sufficient." To work their way back into being a contributing member of society. More than anything I want to be there with them; understanding and walking with them through the muck. And more than anything I want to be at home in my yard with the kids, playing in the sprinkler and baking delicious rosemary sea salt bread. Weeding the garden bed and pouring over maps planning our next camping trip. Sometimes the stretch makes me sore. Sore but unbelievably thankful to be allowed into so many worlds. Permitted to see so many young ones make mistakes and then have a long awaited win! My cup overfloweth. This simple grey clay cracked one particularly right now. Thank you Lord.