TGIM

Surely I'm not the only mom that actually looks forward to Mondays? And it's not because the kids head back to school or anything, since only one of my three goes to public school (and that's mostly because you're not allowed to homeschool foster children in our state.)

Weekends just throw our routine all out of whack. And for a person who doesn't really have/want/thrive on routines...I sure do like my version of normal.

Last week was crazy busy. Here's a recap.

Monday - accidental audition (see previous posts.)

Tuesday - early celebration of the hubby's birthday. He is now 42 and I have no idea how I came to be married to such an old man.

Wednesday - hubby's actual birthday, which meant that I bought him lunch. Headed to church to teach my class of wild and crazy first graders, but sneaked out early for callbacks (see Monday.) Came home, sat down, and clicked "refresh" on the Theatre Guild website until the cast listed was posted. Panicked.

Thursday - company meeting for the show, which basically consists of giving them money (for t-shirts, scripts, etc) and reading through the script. Y'all. This show is hilarious. I am not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that I had tears rolling down my face while I was trying to read, I was laughing so hard. I don't know how in the world I'll ever memorize all of these lines, and especially how I'll do this show without laughing all the way through!

Friday - what did I even do on Friday? Oh my gosh, now I'm losing days. Oh yes, I went to the grocery store, because Friday was pay day and we were out of absolutely everything. Note to self: clean out the back of my van. It was like grocery Jenga trying to cram everything back there, and crackers fell out on my foot when I got home and opened it back up.

Saturday - first real rehearsal - just me and the other half of the Odd Couple, Olive. I love that the director sat us down first thing and talked us through really examining our characters' thoughts, frames of mind, and motives. Then we got to work...flopping across chairs, chasing each other around the stage, and yelling a lot. It was fabulous.

On Saturday night, we went to a party (at "Olive's" home, which is gorgeous and made me want to come home and clean...I didn't do it, but I did think about it) for the cast of the last show that we did, The Homecoming. It was great seeing everyone again...I think this should be a thing after every show. If you've never been part of a community theatre group, I highly recommend it. Even if you're not a singer/dancer/actor, there are so many other ways to be involved - selling tickets, working backstage, etc - and it really does become a second family. That, as much as the shows themselves, keeps us going back for more!

Side note: I tried a new Pinterest recipe for this party, and I'm so glad I did. It's always a little scary trying a new recipe when you're taking it to a social gathering to share before you've even taste tested, but this one worked out great:

These were sooooo good. Moist and chewy and fudgy and ohmigosh, I'm going to go finish off the few that were left as soon as I'm done with this post. Milly helped me make them, and they didn't take long at all. I did have to bake them for an extra five minutes to get the top layer nice and browned, but then they were absolute perfection. You can find the recipe on this blog: Living Beyond Measure

Sunday - technically the first day of this week, but I'm going to call it the last day of last week, because this is my blog and I can do that.

We woke up to SNOW! Now, I spend 364 days a year wishing for snow (365 days on leap years), and very rarely get it. On the one morning that I didn't want snow...snow. Thankfully, it was warm enough that it didn't stick to the roads, and church proceeded as usual. Because...

...my Milly was baptized this morning! I am so proud of my girl, and so happy that she made this decision. She looked fearless in that baptismal in front of hundreds of people, and came bouncing back to our seat afterward in her poofy white dress, white sweater...and black combat boots. Because, you know, that's my kid. Bless her, she's going to be the rebel in any situation.

Gene also did a great job baptizing her. I would give any amount of money if I had a blooper reel to show you of him rehearsing his 'lines' in the days prior to the baptism. In our church, it goes like this:

Baptizer: (Name), have you accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior?

Baptizee: (affirmative response)

Baptizer: Based on your profession of faith, I baptize you my (brother/sister/daughter/whatever) in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

*splash*

I've heard this enough times that I knew it ver batim...so I texted it to him early in the week, giving him plenty of time to read and re-read in preparation. And he practiced...and practiced...and practiced...and still didn't *quite* have it down on Saturday night. He was terrified. Shaking and stammering and it was so, so funny. (This is why he leaves the whole theatre thing to us girls.) But he absolutely nailed it on Sunday morning. I was very proud.

And now it's Monday. I've cleaned my bathroom and done very little else. The girls begged for a day off from school, which is only fair since the public schooled one (whom I still have not given a blog nickname) didn't have school today either. Maybe I'll hit another productive spurt later on this evening...but if not, that's okay too. Days that we get to stay at home without a laundry list of errands and things to do...well, they don't roll around very often. So we are being bums and enjoying it to the fullest.

Well, it's about time.

I bolted upright this morning when the alarm clock went off, a bit earlier than usual for a Sunday morning. Something important was happening today...but what?

Oh yes. I remembered as I stumbled into the bathroom and noticed the bag I had started packing last night. A change of clothes. A towel. A hairbrush.

I dressed down for church - denim capris, not my usual churchy attire. Made breakfast for the family. Even managed to eat a little bit of it.

Got in the car and drove to church, arriving a full half hour before anything would begin. Checked in with a man near the door, was given a brand new OBC t-shirt, and went to change into it.

Sat in a room with 16 other people wearing identical black t-shirts. Lots of people in shorts and capris. Mostly barefoot. Definitely not a typical Sunday morning. We talked, we prayed, and then we were led down a hallway that I had never seen before, one that ran behind the sanctuary.

My heart started pounding as we lined up at the bottom of a staircase. I was near the end of the line, with only two little girls behind me. One had gorgeous curly red hair. The other was a little blonde girl, seven years old, who waited with her daddy. She reminded me so much of Rachael.

The lady in front of me was nervous too, so we chatted to pass the time. But conversation ceased when we heard the music begin in the sanctuary.

After the first song and announcements, the line began moving up the staircase, one at a time. We watched what was happening to the people ahead of us with both joy and, yes, maybe a little trepidation.

Finally, I was at the top of the stairs, and Jeff, the assistant pastor who was standing in the water, was holding out his hand toward me. 

No turning back now, even if I'd wanted to.

I did not allow myself to look to the left, where the congregation was seated. (I would notice only later that it was a very, very full house this morning.) Instead, I concentrated on listening and replying when I was asked if I had accepted Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior.

Why yes, I have. Many years ago, actually. Why hadn't I done this sooner? I have no idea.

I held my nose with one hand and Jeff's arm with the other. Leaning backward, I was aware of being under the water, but only for a second. He made good on his word that he'd be able to lift me back out. (I'm sure I asked him several times if he was sure he could! Luckily for me, he's obviously an old pro.)

I blinked the water out of my eyes and somehow made it up the steps on the opposite side. Received a towel. Dripped halfway across the building. Briefly felt bad about that, then decided to call it "carpet cleaning" and consider it an act of service.

I was baptized.

I truly have no reason for not having done it years ago. I don't recall ever attending a baptism as a child, or being asked if I wanted to participate in one. Maybe someone did ask and I just don't remember. But it seems that it just...never came up. Not as a teenager, not as an adult.

It was only recently that I attended my first baptism as an adult, and I was too busy attending to my precious daughter, who bravely (and obediently) asked to be baptized as soon as she could. I wanted it to be her day, but when she asked me why I hadn't yet been baptized, I promised her that I would do it the very next time the opportunity presented itself.

And today it did.

"Know ye not, that so many of us as were baptized into Jesus Christ were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death: that like as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life. For if we have been planted together in the likeness of his death, we shall be also in the likeness of his resurrection."  Romans 6:3-5

(A big WELCOME to my Spiritual Sunday friends!!)

Whiter Than Snow

"What can wash away my sins? Nothing but the blood of Jesus."

So goes an old hymn that is sung often in our little church, and one that I love. It confused me as a little girl...how could you wash in blood and come out clean on the other side? It seemed gory and gross to me then. I didn't want to be washed in blood! Thank goodness we outgrow the literal mindset of early childhood, huh?

Psalm 51:7 says, "wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow."

Yesterday, Rachael followed through with her decision to be baptised. She had been thinking it over, learning about it, praying about it, for months - and when the opportunity arose, she was ready. Despite her fear of the water, and especially of being under the water, she never wavered in her resolve to publicly declare her acceptance of and faith in Jesus Christ as her Savior.

I am so proud of her. It must be one of the most fervent desires of any Christian mother's heart to know that her child knows and loves God. For the past seven and a half years, it's been my job to do things for her until she was able to do them on her own, to make the best decisions for her until she was capable of thinking them through herself. This decision, though, was never up to me - believing, accepting, and obeying were decisions that she had to make for herself.

And she did.

To have a child who understands so much at such a young age, and who is so eager to be obedient to Him...I can't express the joy that fills my heart to think of it.

Here's my sweet girl, freshly baptised...whiter than snow. <3