McDonald"s

Today
I decided to bring my kids to McDonald"s.

Normally,
we don't eat there.
(True confession: all through my last pregnancy I CRAVED McDonald's. Today may have been the first time I've eaten there since baby boy was born).
But,
This McDonald's had a playland
And I knew Sophie-girl would enjoy it,
so we went.

I parked our car,
took out Sophie-girl
and said: don't move,
and then re-entered the car to get out baby boy.

Sophie didn't listen.
She ran up to the door of the restaurant
and almost straight into the arms of a man who was begging.
He hollered at her: your mom said to stay with her!
And she ran back to me.

She was a little scared,
and I said: he told you to stay with me.

Together, then, we walked to the door,
and the man,
who couldn't speak very well
and was very dirty
began to ask me for money.
I said: I'll buy you a burger.

So, I did.
Value Menu #2:
2 cheeseburgers, a fry and a drink.

Sophie was running around the restaurant,
I was carting around a heavy diaper bag
and an almost one year old,
wondering how I was going to juggle all that food and drinks.
Wondering what the man wanted to drink
and maybe I should just choose for him.
But I thought: I'll ask.
So I did.
And then I brought it to him.
And then he followed me back inside
and the people working there were looking at us
and the people eating there were looking at us
and the man asked: are you babysitting?
And I said: no, these are my babies.
And I was shaking...wondering what I'd do if the employees treated him badly.
But they didn't.
And he left.
And I sat down, still shaking.

Sigh.

Deep breath.

Stop shaking, I told myself.
Eat. Your nutrient-less lunch.

And then Sophie-girl got stuck in this enormous play structure.  Leaving Mason by himself in a high chair, I prayed: please protect him and I had to climb ALL the way to the top to get Sophie-girl, through tubes that were disgusting and hot and clammy. She was crying and sweaty when I reached her. Then I couldn't fit into the slide tube to slide down, an easier alternative to climbing back down backwards. Which I ended up having to do. Climb down a disgusting hot clammy small tube backwards. And I could hear Mason, calling for us. So I tried to go faster. And I did. No, if you are thinking that all this leads to me falling out of the tube backward, I didn't. Thank God.

What.A.Lunch.

And a man said to me: that was nice what you did. Buying lunch for that man.
And I thought: shouldn't we all be doing this?
Clambering through muggy playstructure tunnels to reach the ones who are loved and bring them home and feed them? Shouldn't we be climbing over one another to do that? Even if we don't fit in the tunnels. Even if it makes us shake. Even if we are afraid of what others will think.

Isn't this the Kingdom of God?

It exists here. Now. At our door. In our very lives.
We are Kingdom living.

And I wish I lived that way all the time.
Because mostly I don't.
Mostly I don't give.
To the man begging or the child whining or the husband asking or the friend needing.
And sometimes,
we need to have our boundaries.
But today,
at lunch at McDonald's,
I thought about living in a way
where I am climbing over myself to give.

Even if it makes me shake.

linking up with Imperfect Prose.

Rethreaded: sewing a new story

See these cute pants?

They were made by a company that is in the business of helping women write a new story.

Women who've been used and abused and abandoned and exploited in the sex industry.

Women who were born with dignity

and value

and worth.

Who were born loved by their Creator.

Who were born with a purpose

to live and love and be free.

Rethreaded helps to restore these women to the value they were born with

by giving them a new trade,

a way to earn a living that doesn't exploit their humanity.

Rather, it deepens it,

by giving them purpose again.

Loving them through the pain of healing.

Guiding them onto the path of freedom.

And it starts with used t-shirts.

At least, that's how these little girl pants started out:

recycled t-shirts.

Paired together and sewn into a pair of little girl pants by the women at Rethreaded.

Here's my little girl in them...so cute.

And soft.

And comfy.
The pants, that is.

Sophie-girl doesn't like  HATES to wear clothing that is uncomfortable.

She didn't complain once about wearing these capri style bottoms.

The top of the pants have a little yoga-pant style fold over,

which adds to the comfort.

And the cute factor.
I mean,
isn't that fabric pretty?

Tiny pleats in the front are an added detail,
that give roomy-ness and feminitiy to these tiny pants.

She's a little fasionista, I must say,

rocking the burnt orange capris with gold gladiator sandals!

What I love

most of all

is that my little girl,

unknowingly,

is helping to restore the life of a woman she probably won't ever meet,

by wearing these pants.

I hope that this value,

this moral,

this conviction

will seep into her very blood every time she wears them,

so that when she is grown,

the burden of justice,

of sewing new stories,

of redemption,

of freedom

will be the cry of her life.

To learn more about Rethreaded, please visit their website by clicking on the picture below.

They sell so much more than little girl pants!

And they partner with some incredible organizations from all over the world 

who work to restore the dignity and value of people who've been exploited in the sex industry.

Thanks, to Rethreaded for letting me play a small part in sewing new stories. 

I'm humbled and honored.

Linking up with Imperfect Prose.

Sometimes, it just takes time. Or: Sunday only comes once a week

What I didn't give much thought to,
was how much time it can take to find a church.

We've wanted to give a church at least three weeks of visits.
A church, that is, that we could call home.
Why three weeks?
Honestly, because a friend once told me that I should give a church three tries.

I imagine that after three weeks
one would have a good feel for the church.
Maybe hear several sermons,
get a sense for the worship,
understand different ministries offered.

And.
Calling a church home does have some criteria.
It needs to have sound doctrine, teach the Bible, create opportunities for community,
and be socially aware.
(Which, by the way, does not mean they have ice cream socials.
Rather, social awareness includes social justice...
the deep conviction that the Kingdom of God
is here and now and that all believers of the gospel of Jesus Christ
are meant to incarnate that gospel,
be the presence of Jesus to all people,
ensuring that all are treated equally and fairly
in order that all people may taste and see
that the Lord is good).

Yeah, not exactly an ice cream social.

And.
We wouldn't mind attending the occasional ice cream social, too.

We want to be a part of community.
Live life with others.
Do life with others.
We want to be known,
held accountable.
We long to laugh and play and dig deep.
We want our kids to be loved and known, too.
We hope to find a place that believes that investing in their little lives
is one of the most important things they can do.

And.
Sometimes, finding all of that just takes time.
Especially when Sunday only comes once a week.


What kind of community do you hope to find in a church?