Gosh. Last year on this day, I was in a hospital bed on the 6th floor of the Brigham, streaming a lot of episodes of Lost, and feeling so, myself. Bald, scared, bored, sick, neutropenic, masked, confined to foods cooked literally to death, and wondering if I’d be home for Christmas. What a difference a year makes!
I’ve lamented here in these pages that I’m not the mother I’d imagine I’d be. I’m pretty darn good, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not the pillar of laughing patience, or wise boundary-setting-resolve, that the woman in my head is. I get tired and cranky, holler, nag. And not always in private.
The other night we were getting ready at church for our first-ever flash mob, organized by our new associate pastor, Jeff. Occupy/Bethlehem was going to take Davis Square by storm. Someone was going to video it. It was going to go viral. There would be press-conferences, a book deal for our church, grant money thrown at us so I’d never have to worry about another pledge drive. Or at least we would have a little (slightly embarrassing but mostly sweet) fun.
I wasn’t the organizer, just there to help with whatever, but found I was really anxious about how it was going to play out. And then Rafe was there, all awkward 4 feet 8 of him, trying to assemble a plastic shepherd’s crook, and, of course, using the shepherd’s crook as a ninja weapon all over the fellowship hall, complete with kung fu soundtrack.
The first time I told him to stop horsing around, I might have used my Wise, Patient, Laughing Mother alter ego. But the second and third and fourth (when he narrowly missed my eye) times, I just hollered myself silly. My parishioners gave me a wide berth. Mother-ministers? Can you relate, to your children behaving, well, like children, while you are in the public eye trying hard to be organized, cheerful and relaxed?
Then Rafe gave us his Christmas present to us yesterday, early. He’s been working covertly on it for the last two weeks, hunched over my computer. I thought it was cover for playing Planets vs Zombies. But then he showed us the powerpoint above.
We were laughing and crying, it was so sweet, funny and true. What an amazing thing, for a 9 year old boy to be able to see other people so clearly—to see their good, and tenderly and generously reframe their ugly. What a great gift, to be known by someone so well, and STILL be loved by them. This is God-love. She sees all your flaws, and shows them to you, but the view is delivered with such obvious warmth and tenderness that you can’t help but know you are loved, even as you are a little ashamed of your failings.
Rafe is a superstar when it comes to loving the way God loves. With the ninja moves, he could use a little refinement, however.
I think everyone should have a powerpoint from God like this one, complete with applause track. You’d be amazed how much it really helps to hear that applause, even though it’s manufactured. I found myself blushing a little, mouthing, “for me, really? No, really, I so don’t deserve this.”
CT scan tomorrow! I am ready. Say a prayer for my church friend little baby Sammy, who is at Children’s Hospital, right around the corner from Dana Farber, with breathing issues. He’s likely stable, but still a scary time! He was Jesus in the Occupy/Bethlehem flash mob the other night (which went swimmingly, by the way, though the book deal hasn’t emerged yet)—let’s see him turn some of that miraculous healing on himself.
Love
Molly
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