Giving and Ressurection

On Friday night Adi and I went out to dinner with my parents to a local restaurant. We traditionally have dinner with them on Friday nights, pretty much ever since Adi was a new born. As we left the restaurant, they had one of those cardboard boxes with lollipops sticking out and a quarter slot to donate to whatever cause it's representing. There was a couple there with an adorable little boy who so badly wanted one of those lollipops but his parents didn't have a quarter. If you are a parent or can recall being a child desiring candy you know what a big deal this can be. I wished I had a quarter to give them but I had no change, but my dad did. And he didn't even hesitate to give the child's mother the quarter just as his father went back into the restaurant to get change.

When I talk about the feeling I get when I have been so blessed that I have an opportunity to give, I don't even think about what that might look like from the outside. But Friday night I got to see it in my father. He absolutely glowed as he handed that quarter to this family, a small gift but so deeply appreciated. And my dad instantly became joyful! And as we left the entryway he looked back in time to see the father come out and wave to him in thanks. My dad glowed, and I felt proud to have him as my father, and to have him as Adi's Papa, leading by example. It was such a small event but it somehow felt like it was much bigger than it seemed. I saw this smile on my dads face, and witnessed a genuine connection between him and these strangers as he reached out to them in kindness. It was beautiful.

OK, so I was completely inspired and had Saturday all planned out to be a great family day full of giving cheer as we prepared the Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes together... as a family. Here's what really went down:

Cam was irritated that I didn't wrap the shoe boxes ahead of time, because to be honest wrapping the box and lid separately is kind of challenging and time consuming. Something a 3 1/2 year old doesn't readily engage in, unless you count bonking mommy on the head repeatedly with a wrapping paper roll while mommy wraps the boxes as engagement. It kept her from steeling the gifts that were divided into individual bags according to age group and hiding them under chairs while giggling hysterically. Kinda cute and funny but not when I'm trying to also keep scissors and tape away from her so she doesn't stab someone (Mojo) or waste what little tape we have on taping the boxes shut (not exactly the idea behind wrapping lids separately!)

So where was Cam during all of this? I told him to go away after acting grumpy which threatened to ruin my holiday cheer. His tolerance level was low and I can handle either grumpy hubby or wild and crazy child but not both at the same time.

Some time later, maybe around box three of six --- there's no magic in the number 6, there were 3 age groups to choose from and both boys and girls so I chose to bless all six --- so Cam comes upstairs to inform me that there's cat puke and poop on the rug downstairs. Great, thanks for telling me.

When I finally get done, all boxes wrapped and packed (this took at least a couple of hours) I decided I'd go clean up the rug. Wrong! Cam had thrown the area rug, poop and puke and all outside in our breezeway. I had no idea of knowing where poop was originally or puke for that matter so essentially the entire rug is ruined because I don't have a carpet steamer/cleaner to clean the entire thing. By now, I'm furious because Cam didn't just either clean the crap up himself and use spot cleaner to save our rug or just wait for me to take care of it. Instead, he spazzed out and virtually throws our rug away.I was so pissed I told Cam to call our friends whom we had plans with later that evening to tell them not to come. On top of that, I realized that part of the reason I was so upset and now bawling was because I had PMS, which meant that once again for yet another month I am not pregnant. This sets me off every month and often causes a downward spiral in my mind. Sheer crappiness.

So after Adi went to bed and I was downstairs enjoying a much deserved beer, I kept eying Adi's easel which we had set up earlier in the day for her to paint (she chose to paint a burning bush, yep, the Moses kind - ha ha). I'd take a look at the easel and then look back at the t.v. that I wasn't really paying attention to because I was too irritated to do much of anything. Finally I decided I would paint. A few days ago I found photographs of the last two pieces of art I did and I realized a lot of things about my 12 year artistic quiet period... then decided it was time to break the artistic silence.

I just started painting. On regular paper. Using washable acrylic red, orange, green and blue. I had nothing in mind, just started painting freely and it was like therapy that kept getting better and better as I went. Finally Cam says, "it looks like a peacock" and of course that irritated me and I snapped, "it's not a peacock!" because it wasn't anything. But as I stopped and looked at it I realized that we were both right in a way. It wasn't a peacock but it was a bird... in the end I had painted a phoenix. I couldn't believe it.

The phoenix is a mythical bird that represents rebirth and resurrection. After living hundreds of years it engulfs itself in flames and rises again from its ashes. It is immortal. For me, it is connected to who I am in so many ways. I'm sure I've mentioned before that my name Stacey comes from Anastasia which means "resurrection". Once I saw what I had painted, not setting out to paint anything in particular I realized how close God is right now. That He sees me and is guiding me and He knows me. God took my crappy day and redeemed it.