The Gift

Occasionally one receives a gift from an unlikely source or in an unexpected form.  Yesterday mine came as a fast-moving front, bringing with it earlier-than-predicted rainfall, and ill children.

This autumn has been crazy.  #2 and #4 are both in soccer.  We've had more in the sport at a time in the past, but this year their practices do not overlap.  Someone has soccer every night.  And of course Larry is coaching #2 again, so he is also committed to three 90-minute practices and one 70-minute game per week.  The evenings they are home, I am sitting at practice with #4, who I consider still too young to be dropped off.  Two Tuesdays per month #3 has Activity Day with the 9 year-old girls in our congregation.  Every Wednesday she has guitar lessons.  Wednesday nights #s 1 & 2 have Mutual, our church youth group activities.  One night a week I am supposed to be going on visits as a Ward Missionary.

I'm not listing all of this to earn awe or respect or pity.  Many families I know have crazier schedules than that.  I am listing it to simply complain.  For me, at this point in my life and marriage, I do not like it.  We have fewer family dinners.  Our Family Home Evening gets bumped around and sometimes missed entirely.  Family scripture study is suffering.  Errands requiring more than just myself all get crammed in around Saturday games.  With other stresses we are currently experiencing, I feel only further unsettled and disconnected at a time when I see that consistency and intimacy are just what we all need so desperately.

Yesterday morning my husband informed me that it was supposed to rain  that night.  (He is my sole weather source.)  But the precipitation began around 2:00.  About that time, I came home to a phone message from #3's Activity Day leader.  Sick kids, no activity.  I knew my girl would be disappointed, but I suddenly had an extra hour.  Email from #4s coach:  no practice.  Suddenly we had an entire afternoon and evening!

I've been meaning to get to a local pumpkin stand with Larry's truck for weeks.  They sell pumpkins, hay bales, and cornstalks on the cheap.  Since I had arranged to pick up #s 3 and 4 from school, I decided to take them to get our hay and cornstalks.  With my Suburban.  In the rain.  I think they thought I was nuts.  I loaded two bales into the back, and a cornstalk along three rows of passenger seats, put my cash in the drop box, and made good use of my side mirrors on the way home.  I was soaked and dirty and stinky and downright giddy.  The kids were excitedly chattering about the holidays and the weather.  I wondered aloud if the car would fit down our front walk, shortening the distance I had to carry this wet hay.  I decided not.  I informed the kids that we'd get some cocoa on arrival home, or at least after I'd gotten the hay out of the car because heaven knows I wasn't going to let it sit in there longer than necessary.  #4 replied, "Kevin knows we've got hay in our car?"

We drank our cocoa, arranged our hay, made spaghetti sauce, and had dinner all together.  I vacuumed out the Suburban and coated the back floor with Febreeze.  (The car smells fine now, but the garage still smells like horse manure.  The bales were out of the car before I ever parked it in the garage.  Go figure.)  We listened to the Family Home Evening lesson that #4 had had ready for a week and a half.  We drove to the Boy Scout pumpkin stand and bought pumpkins for carving and some to last through Thanksgiving.  #1 and I even had time to help Larry with some work he's been behind on.  It was a great night.

Today my back is sore, and two of my kids are sick.  So back to the grind.  I guess if every day was such a gift, we wouldn't appreciate them.  And I am still smiling.