A Good Day (or Two)

Meet Frankie.  He is a mythical creature that is a combination of bunny rabbit, moose, newborn giraffe, rainbow and fruit stand – or so says the imagination of my eight year old daughter.  He was born Friday morning following hours of oven and hot glue labor. He can only balance upright with millimeter precision placement and no nearby movement – or breathing for that matter.  His genetic makeup is dominated by melted crayons and perler beads, Legos, popsicle sticks, pom poms, buttons and whimsical beads.  You know, the stuff that dads specialize in.  Believe it or not, this is not in my wheelhouse :-).  But Greta was keen to ask for my help and (thank God) I recognized the opportunity and cleared the night’s other priorities.  It was so much fun.  We started with a blank sheet of paper and Greta’s ideation and sketches.  We had no idea where it would end up, but the adventure of it was the point.  We had lots of “Oooh, oooh, oooh, what if we …” moments.  There were lots of laughs, lots of high fives.  And voila … Frankie joined the family.  Greta is one to run around at 100 mph without time for pleasantries.  But this time, Greta turned to look back at me and said, “Dad, thanks a lot for doing this with me!”  Heart melted.  Intentionality lesson #947 in the books.

But nights like this are not meant for just 1 special occasion.  Remember, there are 2 daughters in this household.  A special shared experience for Maren and I (someday Greta, too), is our budding relationship with Haitian orphanages and 3 teenagers in particular.  One of our favorite activities is to exchange written letters with them each quarter.  As procrastination is a thing for us (both Jen and I majored in this skill), our letters were due this same night.  So, at 9:00pm while embryonic Frankie was in the oven and Greta was manning the hot glue station, Maren and I enjoyed re-reading past letters.  They have made a big impression on us.  Stay-at-home orders are certainly disruptive here.  But the layers of need and disruption are multiplied 10 fold in Haiti.  They’re great kids with severely limited opportunities yet buoyed with abounding joy.  This shared letter writing experience is skill-building, but more importantly we are learning together to live with benevolent eyes.

The momentum of the prior night seemed to continue into the next day.  Following a school-from-home, work-from-home day, a shipment of volleyballs arrived right around dinner time.  Food can wait.  The girls got the volleyballs pumped up and we headed for the backyard.  I had just cut the grass, it was 70 degrees without a cloud in the sky, there were 2 hours before sunset and the intoxicating aroma of the myriad blooming trees surrounded us.  We played until Maren’s hitting arm pleaded for mercy.  A great spring evening.

With backup-plan pizza baked and ready to eat, we decided to end the night with a movie.  A new release was on Disney+ so we went for it (“Onward”).  Unknowingly, the premise of the movie is 2 kids that are working to bring back their late parent for just 1 more day to spend with them.  Oof.  It was hard enough for me to digest this, but I was worried about what this would stir for the girls, too.  Somewhat amazingly, they enjoyed the movie and were unfazed by the premise.  I also generally enjoyed the movie, but my emotions were heavy.  No sooner did I get the girls to bed that I received a text from a good friend – “Hey Brad – thought you might like to know that the Pleiades are close tonight!”  [Pleiades is the constellation otherwise known as the Seven Sisters.  Fittingly, Jen and her 6 college roommates are also affectionately known as Pleiades because of their endearing and enduring sisterhood.]  Sure enough, I walked outside to see that the Pleiades were uncommonly close and visible in the night sky.  These are the ‘coincidences’ that aren’t so randomly coincidental.  To me, these are God moments.  I, too, wanted to have Jen back for just 1 more day and I got it.  It took my breath away.  I cried.  It was good – hard, but really good.

One of Jen’s quotes that we printed on a banner for the celebration is mounted to the back of the door leading out to our garage – so that we are reminded daily.  It reads, “A good day is a gift you give yourself, and it’s hard work.”  This reminds us that with intentionality, open eyes and a willful spirit, we can experience moments of true meaning regardless of circumstance, comfort or guarantee of outcome.  I am reminded of Jen constantly – hard not to when you share everything with someone.  But at the end of this super-fulfilling day, I was very grateful for God’s guidance through her voice.  At first it was the whisper to drop everything and go for the opportunity (i.e. Frankie and the letters).  Then, it was the mental picture to be patient and fun on the volleyball court and absorb the joy experienced by the girls.  Finally, it was the comfort that I am not alone; that the discomfort of the eternal-here-but-not-yet is joyful; and that there is so much to live for.

I pray for health, truth and sanity in these times.  Do today well 🙂

Brad

P.S. Apparently the momentum continues … Yesterday, while I was doing way-overdue projects, the girls made a fort and read together and then treated themselves to a 4 hour “spa day” in our master bath, only to fall asleep to a movie on a screen we set up in the backyard.  There are silver linings of unplugged time despite all of our calendar cancellations aren’t there?