A long and lovely day

My church had a guest preacher whose sermon on costly discipleship literally raised gooseflesh on my arms with its meaning and personal significance. I've been reading Dietrich Bonhoeffer this last week, and that congruence came as a not so subtle hint that I need to delve deeper into this. Afterwards, we had a potluck lunch that filled me with good food and good talk. The more I get involved in this church the more impressed I am. There is a wonderful combination of closeness among the members, true welcome to newcomers and a commitment to tangible service -- feeding the hungry, visiting people in prison and helping them get on their feet after they get out, prayer groups unobtrusively available in intensive care units, services in nursing homes where people can't get out to go to a church, a service each week where conversation and prayer focuses on the real needs, inspirations and insights of its members and guests. I am just filled with gratitude tonight that after years of solitary worship and resentment towards churches that I have found a church that does feel like home.

This coming weekend, my daughter attends her first formal dance. Finding the right dress and accessories has been a major concern, and my schedule has delayed our shopping. This afternoon, we drove by one of our favorite shops, and on the spur of the moment I asked if she wanted to stop and look. With just a small section of formal wear, I wasn't expecting much, but she tried on about eight dresses. Seeing my daughter transform from a girl to a woman in five minutes took my breath away. I knew the youth was still there, but the shadow of the woman to be stepped to the foreground. She stepped out of the dressing room in a strapless dress with narrow black and white banding on the bodice that got subtly broader towards the waistline, revealing a figure that blue jeans have left to the imagination. My first thought was, boy, am I in trouble. Where did this sophisticated young woman come from? Hers was that she hated her arms. With dress after dress, some other body part would come under criticism. We eventually bought a black dress with a not inappropriately deep V-neckline, an inset band at the hips, and an asymmetrical hemline. She wasn't satisfied but thought that it would do. She's come so far with body image issues, but it still hurts to see them surface. Her favorite song right now is Bob Dylan's Rainy Day Woman, and its lyrics hit me hard when she cried in the car on the way home.

Tonight though those tears turned to smiles. While I settled in for an evening of reading blogs and her father watched the Superbowl, she went to another church's youth group party. When I picked her up, she smiled, said look and showed me her hand. Her Claddagh ring had been turned crown up by the young man who also changed her plans about going to the dance with her group of girlfriends. I can't help feeling happy for her. There's nothing like that rush of having your first boyfriend when you're at an age to have a clue what it means. I also know that this means changes in the parenthood department, and I have the feeling that this just might be a wild ride.

Right now, I'm sweetly sleepy but still resistant to heading off to bed. I want to savor the highs and lows of this day. I want to soak a little while in the richness of a simple day in a simple life. Though the list of concerns and worries, plans and strategies is still in the background of my mind, it seems far away. There will be time enough to deal with all of that. Complications will have to wait until daylight. The rest of the night is just for me.

Christianity
parenthood