A Seed Must Fall to the Ground

My Grandpa Tanner was 91 years old when he died. He had lived a good life. He was frail, sick, and in pain and living in a nursing home when he died. His death was not a surprise. I was glad that his pain had ended and that he could claim his Heavenly reward. And yet I sobbed at his funeral. I was sad because I'd miss him. I was sad that my kids would never know him. I was sad because the world had lost one of the most loving people possible. In fact, the thought that went through my head most often was "who will I find to love me like Grandpa did?" Grandpa loved everyone. His love was unconditional. And he delighted in me. Some people never get to experience love like that, and I knew I was lucky to have had him. I missed and feared the loss of such a loving presence in my life.

Shortly after Grandpa died, I started attending St Thomas Church. I liked the place and people immediately. It seemed like just the kind of church I wanted to raise my kids in. Just a few weeks later Neil died. And St Thomas Church loved me. They loved me with hugs. They loved me with space and silence. They loved me with prayers. More than a year after Neil died, Anne Gibbs told me that she still prayed for me every day. They didn't really know me yet, but they loved me anyway.

St Thomas Church loved me through two emotionally difficult pregnancies. They welcomed and loved my babies. As my babies grew and became energetic toddlers, St Thomas still embraced our family. I never felt like my kids were a problem or that I was a bad mom just because my kids were loud or literally climbing the walls. When my kids were baptized, the people of St Thomas promised to help raise them in God's family, and they have followed through. They have loved my kids and encouraged them to participate in worship.

The amazing love from these people has helped me heal from depression and social anxiety. They have helped me heal from church wounds. They have helped me heal after Neil's death. I would not be who I am today without St Thomas Church.

Last Sunday at St Thomas Church's annual meeting, eight adults present agreed that our small number could no longer sustain a congregation. For more than five years, we've been without a pastor, and lay leadership has done everything in our powerful to keep the church thriving. However, the lack of clergy has been difficult, and we have no hope of getting a pastor in the near future. Our financial situation would allow us to keep the doors open for up to one year. Those present felt like we had given the church all we had even as membership has slowly decreased as people burned out. Rather than wait a year and attempt to grow a church when we were running on fumes, they decided to end it now. Essentially, they voted to stop being a church immediately.

I say "they" because I couldn't bring myself to vote for or against the end of St Thomas Church. I knew that the church was dying, but when the end came I was still sad. I just sat and cried. At first, I had no words. I knew that my life has had a lot of change recently, and part of my grief was cumulative. But as I thought about it, I found I was asking myself, "Who will love me like St Thomas did?" Who will love me because of and despite how well they know me? Will they smile when Maggie suddenly loudly sings "all the doo dah day" or "E-I-E-I-O" during prayers? Will they offer to let Lucy help take up the offering? Will my kids be allowed to eat bread with everyone else? Will I feel a swell of support or judgement when my kids act up in church? Who will love me and us like St Thomas has?

I feel like an incredibly loving entity has passed away. Who will love our community like St Thomas did? If you're poor or uneducated or over-educated or gay or trans or awkward or from elsewhere or just feel like an outsider, who will love you like St Thomas did? Who will welcome you and show hospitality and always be happy to see you?

Our second lesson on Sunday was from 1 Corinthians 12 about the parts belonging to one body. I ruefully considered that perhaps our church body committed suicide after potluck that day. Eyes were tired of seeing and noses tired of smelling without rest and just decided to stop. But that's not quite how the metaphor works. When enough parts quit a real body, the body dies. And when a real body dies, the parts die, too. But the scattering parts of St Thomas Church are not dead. It's more like they are organs being donated. It gives me some hope that the parts of St Thomas that did all of the loving will continue to do so in new bodies. (I know that being a part of the St Thomas body has made me a more loving and open and generous person.) And just as organ recipients sometimes mysteriously develop qualities of the people that donated organs to them, perhaps the congregations that receive the parts of St Thomas will develop more of the loving character that made St Thomas Church so special.

Perhaps rather than a death, this change is more like planting a seed or grafting a plant. Perhaps something new can grow and spread in ways it couldn't when it was contained at St Thomas. I'm always up for planting a seed and seeing what grows.

Lucy is in Kindergarten

Lucy started kindergarten today. She hopped out of bed quickly this morning and got dressed. She was eager and helpful and stayed on task better than usual. She wore a new outfit that we'd picked out at Wal-Mart. She really loves wearing dresses and skorts, so her skorts outfit was perfect for her. She got her hair cut a little shorter yesterday to make hair brushing easier. The picture in the book at the hairstylist had a braid across the front, so I asked the stylist to braid it after the cut. Lucy loved it. We left it braided overnight, and it still looked good this morning, so she got to wear her fancy braid on her first day of school.

It was rainy off and on, so she wore her raincoat. And we talked about how the playground might be too wet to play there during recess. I was concerned that she would feel cheated on her first day if she didn't get to play on the playground since that was what convinced her to go to kindergarten in the first place. She was OK with doing something else fun inside instead.

The whole family took her to her classroom. Normally, the kids go straight to the gym, but we were told it was OK to stop by her classroom today. I helped her put things in her shared locker. We said hi to her teacher. She had met her teacher a couple of times at school events over the last two weeks. We think Ms. Clark is going to be great. Most people we've talked to know her as a friend from church and have nothing but good things to say about her. Susie, Lucy's godmother, actually took education classes with Ms. Clark and was super-excited when she found out she was Lucy's teacher.

Before taking Lucy to the gym, we stopped by the bathroom to see what it was like. It was Lucy's nightmare. The toilets are self-flushing, and there are hand dryers instead of paper towels. When she saw them, she started backing out of the bathroom saying "No!" We saw Ms. Clark again when we took Lucy to the gym, and I told her about Lucy's bathroom issue. I told her that Lucy would attempt (and probably fail) to hold it all day instead of use a self-flushing toilet. (I cover the "eye" for her when she uses them with me. We say we're playing peek-a-boo with the potty.) Ms. Clark is going to see if she can coax Lucy into using that bathroom, but there's another one she can use if she absolutely refuses.

I had been concerned about the bathroom situation before I saw the bathroom and had written Ms. Clark a note about Lucy's bathroom issue and let her know that a change of clothes is in Lucy's backpack if she even has an accident. The note also had a few other of Lucy's quirks. I felt like I should be sending a user's manual with her but limited myself to what I thought was most important. I told her that Lucy does not respond well to threatened consequences. If she's told that she will miss recess if her work is not done, the work will not get done. She will focus on recess being taken away and be unable to do anything. She will probably also cry. It's better to tell her you'll give her a hug if she finishes her work in 5 minutes. She'll do it in 3 minutes and throw her arms open for her hug. I don't know what Ms. Clark's usual techniques are, but just in case I thought she should know how Lucy would react. Some teachers might see Lucy's failure to perform in the face of an ultimatum as defiance. That seemed like it could set them up for a bad relationship. The last thing in the note was that Lucy doesn't tell me or Matt anything, so if Ms. Clark thinks there's something we should know, we'd appreciate her telling us because we probably won't find out about it otherwise. Ms. Clark already found out at open house that Lucy is left handed and can already read at an advanced level. My note didn't tell her everything about Lucy. Lucy could be different at school, and getting to know her is part of the fun. I thought I'd let Ms. Clark learn about "digger cats" and "diver cats" on her own.

I think Lucy is going to like school. She liked preschool. This is the smaller of the public elementary schools in town. Everyone we've encountered at the school has been very friendly and nurturing. Lucy knows one girl in her class: Rinoa has been to every birthday party Lucy has had. They don't see each other often, but they are friends. And we were very fortunate that all school supplies and all meals are free this year. Lucy was able to reuse her backpack and lunch box from last year, so other than one new outfit bought on clearance at Wal-Mart, back to school hasn't cost us anything this year.

School is 8:00-3:00, Monday-Thursdays. Fridays end at 1:30 or are completely off. I expect her to be really tired when she gets home, but I'd looking forward to what she has to say about her day (if she'll say anything). (Her answer to all questions about VBS this summer was "I can't say." She's one weird and wonderful kid.)

Kindergarten-Bound! (as far as we can tell)

Lucy took the kindergarten-readiness assessment and score 89.5. They rounded it to 90, so she's in. The counselor didn't say anything to me about waiting until June when she gave me paperwork to fill out, so I think Lucy's really been accepted to kindergarten.

I watched a video online of a boy taking the same assessment and knew we had some things to work on. We practiced standing on one foot. I made up a cheer to teach her to spell her last name. She had to be able to write her first and last name, and she already knew how to write her first name. I know she can write all her letters, so I just focused on teaching her to spell her last name, and she put it together for the assessment. Her score probably benefited a few points from my having watched the video.

The only things she was marked down for on the assessment were standing on her non-dominant foot for ten seconds, drawing shapes (her corners are often a little rounded), and saying the alphabet. According to the score sheet, she sang the alphabet instead of saying it. In the video I watched, that kid sang the alphabet and was then instructed to say it instead. According to Lucy, they didn't say, "Say it; don't sing it." So I'm not sure she was given a chance to try again. She lost 5 points for not saying the alphabet, which I know she can do, so her score should have been 94.9. Test materials say that a score above 91 is in the gifted range. I'm not sure why this kind of knowledge-based test thinks it can figure out who is "gifted." Also, the expectation for this test is that children will take it when they are actually five years old. She's 4.5. I put her scores in the assessment's online scorer to see what further information I could get. I had to tell it that she was already five to get to input the data from the assessment she took. With a score of 94, it said her adjusted age is 6.5. That actually seems about right intellectually.

The counselor did say that she was concerned about Lucy's maturity. Lucy was fine during the testing, but as soon as she got back to me, she started climbing on a chair (which the counselor helpfully told me was not appropriate behavior in a classroom). I'm concerned about her maturity, too. I also know that Lucy was taken into a room by strangers and made to answer questions for 15 minutes. Then they couldn't find me, even though I hadn't moved from where they left me. So when she got back to me, she had some steam to let off. Climbing on furniture is not appropriate behavior, but I get why she did it. I really do think she'll be fine when August arrives. If not, we can hold her back. And the counselor says that we have 30 days after school starts to decide if kindergarten is a good fit for her. The counselor also told me that based on Lucy's score she would be really bored in preschool.

I think at this point we're assuming we'll go ahead with kindergarten. We can change our minds later. I think Lucy is excited about kindergarten. As we were driving up to the school, she saw the playground and students playing on it and asked me what was going on. I told her it was recess; Every day at kindergarten, you get to play on a playground. I then reminded her that we were there to talk to a kindergarten teacher to see if she wanted to go to kindergarten next year. "I do," she whispered longingly from the back seat. :)