Anything less than Butterflies

Drew and I have recently decided to place membership at a Church of Christ here in Amarillo. It is a church that is more "conservative" than I thought we would end up at but the sense of family has been such a drawing factor for us. I like knowing that among other things Everett will be surrounded by people who know and love his extended family, who have amazing respect for his great-grandparents and grandmother, and I like knowing that he will be raised singing the hymns I was brought up on. It may not have the excitement of a band behind it but the words hit my heart just the same and immediately take me back to my childhood.

One of the good things about choosing this church is that we can worship with my Mom and Nana every Sunday morning. When we first began attending periodically with them before Drew and I got married I loved how alive Mom was at church. She made her way from pew to pew greeting old friends, loving on the elderly and helping those in need by carrying things for them or just giving them a hug. I loved that when so many words escaped her mind the songs she grew up singing to the Lord were written on her heart and the words flowed freely from her voice. My heart truly sung along with her as she worshiped because in that hour at church I felt my Mom was really with me.

Now I still love sitting next to her, holding her hand and passing communion to one another, but the disease has crept in. The songs don't come so easily any longer. She does a really terrific job at singing along, just behind what the congregation has sung... a second delay, but it's not the same. When we pass communion she forgets to break the cracker and just takes a whole piece. During the sermon I often catch her dosing off.  I was surprised this morning to hear her echo some of the congregation's "Amen" to a point the preacher made... she was surprised as well. In a place that is sacred, a place where I have cherished being alongside my Mom, I now feel her slipping away there as well.

Several weeks ago the preacher was doing a sermon on laying sins at the foot of the cross. Everyone in the congregation was to take a piece of paper and write a sin or two on it that we wanted to give to God. After some time he asked everyone to come up and pin our paper to a cross that had been erected at the front of the auditorium. Drew, and I quickly followed the crowd as did Nana and Patrick ,who was visiting that weekend. Before I made it off our row I noticed Mom just standing not knowing what to do. I sat with her and asked her what sins she wanted to confess to God. She didn't know of any. So I ran through a quick list of sins that I thought may strike a nerve with her, she said "yea" to a few and we jotted them down and walked hand in hand to the cross. She was confused but proud to have been able to participate. I wept. How could she not even be able to comprehend what a sin was? How could so much have been taken from her?

I had been on a search for a new bible the past month or so. The bible I carried with me to Thailand and Africa now being too compact for me to read. Sad! After going to every store in town that carries Bibles I decided I should be a bible designer because no one had what I wanted. Nevertheless I was trying to decide between a leather, somewhat girly large print NIV and plain maroonish softcover NIV that reminded me of Nana and Grandy's Bibles. After deciding on the latter and asking Mom her opinion she said to me "Meg it doesn't matter if its pretty or not because it is about God!" She may lose her words but she will not lose her love for God and knowledge that he is most important! In that I take extreme comfort!!