The Ties That Bind

At first glance, they seem like simple satin bows. To be sure, they were beautifully crafted - each meticulously sewn together and accented with a lacy applique and trailing ribbons of delicate pearls.

My mother-in-law Marie made them for my sister-in-law Kathy's wedding in 1992. She designed a hanger that fit perfectly over the end of the pews at the Stafford United Methodist Church.

Jill was a flower girl at that wedding. I can't remember for sure, but I think she probably helped attach those bows on every other pew down the center aisle before Kathy's wedding to Dave.

After Marie died in 1996, our house became the repository for the pew bows. As Kathy said, they had been designed especially for the Stafford UMC, so we should keep them safe. When Jill got married in August nine years ago, the pew bows again adorned the aisle.

Eric and Jill's first look moment - Jill's wedding photos by Gina Dreher, Wichita

When Randy gave Jill "away" during the service on August 8, 2009, neither of his parents were there physically. But those bows that Jill's Grandma Marie had made 17 years before were a silent testimony to their presence in spirit in a church that was the family's "home" for three generations.

Randy & Jill at her wedding, August 2009

Last Friday, a different bride's young nephews and her niece hung the bows before wedding rehearsal, while I followed behind and fluffed them, making sure they were flush against the dark wood and the ribbons and pearls were cascading just so.

If I counted correctly, Lauren was the eighth bride to use the pew bows.

The bows had also adorned the aisles for Lauren's two older sisters' weddings at Stafford UMC and for at least two other weddings besides our family's.

Jill & Eric - August 2009

The brides all had Marie's bows in common. Other central components were the two wedding banners Lauren's mom - my friend Kim - had commissioned before their oldest daughter, Kristen's, wedding. She shared them for Jill's wedding, too. And, by the way, Kristen accompanied me on the piano as I sang for Lauren's wedding. Life came full circle, since Kristen used to be one of the little singers in my Joyful Noise choir at Sunday School. She now teaches those same songs to a new generation.

The ties that bind a church family are much stronger than those delicate pearl ribbons hanging from satin bows.

Randy and I were two of the hosts at Lauren and Cory's wedding reception on Saturday. Lauren's parents - Boyd and Kim - were hosts at Jill's and Eric's wedding nine years ago along with Tami and Steve, who also were hosts for Lauren. ...

The ties that bind.

Once upon a time, these brides and grooms were skipping forward together for children's sermon at church. Now, some of them are the mommys and daddys who cringe when their offspring start to "over share" during children's time.

Time comes full circle. After helping to clean up following the reception, Kim came up, hugged us and said she couldn't imagine doing life without good friends - the ones who will get their clothes sticky with punch, trudge up and down stairs carrying gifts and pull down decorations after the bride and groom have departed into a stream of bubbles. We've all gladly been there and done it for each other.

I'm thankful for that, too. It reminded me of a favorite song by Christian recording artist Mark Schultz, who just happens to be a fellow Kansan. It's called "Cloud of Witnesses." Here are a few of the lyrics.

We watched them runnin' down the aisles,
Children's time, Sunday morning.
The preacher asked them who they loved,
They all smiled and started pointing to their mom,
Their dad,
The teacher from their kindergarten class;
And each and every one
Had just come from

A cloud of witnesses
That would see them through the years
Cheer them with a smile
And pray them through the tears
A cloud of witnesses that would see them to the end,
And shower them with love that never ends
A cloud of witnesses. ...

Whether it's sharing bows made a quarter century ago or refilling a canister with lemonade and heaps of ice at a hot August wedding reception or sharing a strawberry cake at a funeral dinner or becoming the Sunday School teacher in the very room where you used to be the student ...

and in a million more ways ....

... there's a cloud of witnesses who are there to cheer us on on this race we call life.

It sounds like a good way to be a church family.

***

It was a weekend of wedding memories. Just a few days after Jill and Eric celebrated their 9th wedding anniversary on August 8, my parents celebrated their 65th on August 12. My brother put together this collage using photos from a history book my mom compiled for each of the grandchildren.

What a wonderful legacy!

Lessons from a Christmas Tree

I saw this cute graphic on my friend, Linda's, Facebook page. I think those are all good things to remember during this busy holiday season. But I've learned some additional lessons from my Christmas tree this year, too.

In the olden days, we'd chop down a tree from a St. John tree farm. I loved the whole process.

Christmas 1990

We'd wander the trails at the tree farm and do a Goldilocks search for one that was "just right."

The smell of pine would permeate the crisp, winter day.

Christmas 1995

The tree farm folks would shake and wrap the tree while we went inside the store to drink hot spiced cider and crack open a few peanuts. Putting up the tree in the living room was the prelude to Christmas and all its sights and smells.

Christmas 1990

OK, so maybe I'm waxing nostalgic and forgetting the pine sap, the prickly needles all over the carpet and the spilled water. Just this morning on the news, I heard that live trees can bring an infestation of aphids into the house. We had enough aphids in our milo fields, thank you very much! And maybe I've forgotten squeezing two kids into the center seat belt of the pickup for our 25-mile excursion to the Christmas tree farm.

By the time the kids got into high school, I was the only one who still cherished the tradition. So, now we have a pre-lit tree. Let me clarify. It's supposed to be pre-lit. But this year, only about a third of the lights came on when we plugged it in.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" was not Randy's first thought. Some traditions never change. These days his only job is to help schlep the plastic tubs of decorations up from downstairs and get the tree set up. This year, he had to add lighting back into his holiday schedule. He added two more strings to the tree and we called it good.

I think some additional lights flickered out after we did the light positioning - or so it appears when I examine the photos I took.  They seem congregated around the middle, kind of like Santa's jolly belly.

It was not the only light fatality. The evergreen swag I use over the grandfather clock also didn't light. Another extra strand of lights fixed that problem.

I can't even find my miniature Christmas tree. Did it quit working last year and I tossed it? Did I think I'd remember to replace it before this holiday season? Well, if that's what I thought, I clearly was mistaken.

I think I need to actually read one of the books that I use to decorate my mantle, "Why Christmas Trees Aren't Perfect." It was given to the kids by our minister and dear friend, Cheryl, long ago.

No Christmas trees aren't perfect. Neither are Christmas decorations (unless they are on those fancy schmantzy HGTV shows).

But you know what? The Savior of the world was cradled in a smelly manger. So if my Christmas tree lights aren't placed with algebraic precision, I think it's going to be OK.

As I pull the ornaments from the boxes, it's a trip down memory lane. The elf my Grandma Leonard made when I was a little girl lost its hanger long ago, so I nestle it in the tree branches.

One of my newer ornaments was made by our former pastor Amy, who used stain glass to resemble the ceiling panels at our church.

My favorites are the photo ornaments which capture moments in time.

Other decorations remind me of my crafty mother-in-law. Marie added to our Santa collection year after year.
But Marie didn't ignore the true message of Christmas with her creations either. I have her quilted nativity scene on the piano.

How can we, in the midst of our culture's conspicuous consumption and demand for perfection, turn our focus on the Child who was born into poverty as a sign of hope and salvation for a broken world? While it may seem the world demands perfection, the Gospel message demands nothing from us. Rather, God invites us to gather around the manger just as we are: unfinished lists, burnt pies and all. No matter our imperfections, great or small, God invites us to peek into the manger and gaze at the real Christmas message: That Christ came for us all to be a beacon of hope for the hopeless and to bring peace.

Rev. Amy Slater, 

Stafford UMC newsletter, Christmas 2012

 So, yes, I am still learning from my less-than-perfect Christmas tree this year.

Family Heirlooms

Four generations - Jill, Brooke, me and my mom, Janis

Life moves quickly. With Snapchat photos that disappear just after they are clicked open and life summed up in 140 characters per Tweet, permanence can be elusive. We are never far from our phones, scrolling to make sure we don't miss the latest post from our "friends" - some of whom we've never even met in person.

When the washing machine breaks and it's cheaper to replace it than buy new parts, we bemoan the "planned obsolescence" of "things."

So maybe it's even more important to celebrate the things that last. Relationships top that list, of course. And sometimes, a few mementos survive the journey, too.

For Brooke's 2nd birthday, I passed along a wooden doll cradle. It first belonged to my Mom, who got the gift from her parents when she was about 5 years old. Her little sister, Merlene, got a similar cradle.

Little Janis Neelly's cradle featured a blue "J" at the base. So when Jill was little, my mom passed it on to her. Now, it belongs to Brooke. Though her given name doesn't start with a "J," her middle name is Jaylin, so the "J" cradle passed to her.

We also gave Brooke a Raggedy Ann that had been crafted by Randy's mom, Marie. I don't expect a 2-year-old to understand the significance of these family heirlooms.

For me, however, there's deep significance in passing along a 75-year-old doll cradle or sharing a doll made by another great grandmother who would have loved this next generation of little girls.

For right now, it's enough that Brooke will put her "babies" to bed in the same cradle that rocked her Great Grandma Janis' dollies. (In the photo above, she's covering up a baby with a blanket made by her Grandma Christy ... more family connections!)

Doll buggy and accessories from G/G Ladd!

Brooke loves her babies.  She's more interested in doll babies than Kinley ever has been. But when there's a real baby around, she'll gladly "take care" of her, too.

Cousin Ruth got plenty of love from Brooke and Grandma Christy.

Need a diaper change? The 2 year old is on it! We'll have this girl babysitting in no time! (Of course, there is that baby dolly that was abandoned in the background of this photo. Maybe we'll hold off on the babysitting gig!)

All the dolly gear may seem stereotypical. But we also got her some farm animals and a farm play mat. This girl can be a Mommy and a farmer.

Or maybe she'll be a firefighter, courtesy of Uncle Brent.

She'll keep in shape by pedaling her trike and her head will be protected in her new bike helmet from Great Grandma and Grandpa Moore.

It's a blessing to get together to celebrate birthdays.

With sisters ...

 And parents ...

 And even more generations.

Thankfully, those are the things that last.

Cleaning House

I can always find something I'd rather do than deep cleaning. But when I cleaned out a storage cabinet not long ago, I came across a forgotten treasure. (That should probably motivate me to do more, but let's be real. It probably won't!)

When Jill and Brent were little, Randy's mom, Marie, made them a finger play glove and several verses. I took them to Topeka, where a second generation can enjoy these handmade, interactive stories.

Marie sewed and decorated the felt pieces. She then attached Velcro to the shapes and to the glove.

 

Kinley enjoyed taking each of them off as I read the verses.

 

Some day, Brooke will want her turn, too. (That time is coming quickly, I hear. Even though we just saw them a couple of weeks ago, Brooke has mastered crawling, is pulling up to things and walking around them. Watch out world! More accurately ... watch out Big Sister!)

They don't seem to care that a couple of them are out of season.

Hidden treasures are always in season.