The Body of Christ II

The 17-year-old brother of our five guests walked out of the service today. The next time I saw him, a crowd of praying people surrounded him, and he and his younger brother were sobbing. Their father, a leukemia survivor, was back in the hospital and was not expected to live.

An elder interrupted communion to give the announcement, and few eyes were dry. Prayers were said, scripture read. In the back, a steady stream of people were hugging and crying with Corey and Chandler. Corey, the eldest, came to the pulpit and shared that their trust was in God, not in doctors or medicine. We spent the remainder of the meeting in prayer. The young people declared their intention to abandon the Rangers’ game and spend the afternoon praying instead, and a brief discussion ensued about whether or not to continue with Sunday school.

Sunday school was stiff and contrived when Corey received another phone call. The doctors suspected pneumonia, which would mean that his father would be in the hospital for several months but had a larger chance for surviving.

We rejoiced with the family then, purposing to help them through the difficult times ahead. That’s what the Body of Christ does. We rejoice with each other, just like my friends rejoiced with me last night. We also grieve with each other. We serve and aid each other. We know each other, and we challenge each other’s faults and weaknesses. Then, Christ is glorified.

The Body of Christ I

“Courtney!” My little brother’s eyes twinkled with barely contained excitement. “Come downstairs; they have a surprise for you.” I obeyed him and found our living room filled with neighbors. Since my nineteenth birthday falls after I leave for school, they had come over to celebrate early.

Little boys, older girls, mothers, and fathers -- all came. Little boys eagerly gathered around, sneaking extra brownies and showing off their newfound talents: “I can make you have eleven fingers.” Fathers expressed friendly interest: “Now, are you taking classes for your new major?” Mothers exclaimed over the quick passage of time: “I can’t believe you will be 19! I remember when you were all so little.” Older girls smiled and laughed, secure in the safety of old friendships.

Through it all, I reflected on the Lord’s blessings in my life. They truly are poured, shaken together, and running over.

On top of things, at last

The guests have left.
The house is clean.
Seven loads of laundry have been washed, dried, folded, and put away.
The baby is asleep in bed.
The boys, decked in pajamas, and their father are picking up my mom from the airport.
My room is nearly packed and ready for my sister to confiscate.

For once, I'm feeling quite in control of life.

A brief update

My two youngest sisters have departed to join my mom at our grandparents' house.

Five other kids now fill their places, though.

Our church friends, the parents of seven children, went on a spur-of-the-moment cruise, so now their five youngest are spending the week with us. My mom can't believe we agreed to let all of them stay here, and I tend to share in her disbelief. The two older girls are helpful, but six kids -- all under six-years-old-- in one home is a bit wild.

Come Sunday, I think I'll be ready for a bit of peaceful college life.

Snapshots of the day

8:30: The house is alive and busy with a wild scramble to get Nathan to school and Hayden to a parent visit. I plop William and Hayden in the tub and quickly scrub them. Then we head to the busy kitchen. Pancakes on the griddle, cereal and milk on the counter, formula flying around the bottle, a hungry baby screaming in his highchair, a sister packing a lunch for Nathan and a diaper bag for Hayden – the kitchen is a whirl of activity.

12:30: After a morning of practicing music and swimming laps, the four sisters and their younger brother head to the ice cream shop. William’s eyes light up when we hand him a cone brimming with cookie dough ice cream. His mouth opens wide, his tongue stretches out for the first lick, and … plop. Tears fall. A classic childhood moment. Fortunately, the employee is understanding, and William’s tears are soon dried.

3:00: I return from grocery shopping with William. The house is full of its afternoon craziness. Two neighbors are dancing in the living room with Kylee and Kelsey. Hayden’s nap protests have filled the house long enough; we give in. My friend realizes that I leave for college in just one week, so she comes over to discuss books, scripture, and the Christian life. Nathan and his friend return from next door, and William joins them in running laps through the kitchen and living room.

I always tell people that we have six kids in our family. Seven, counting the baby. But really, when we have that few, our home feels empty. Right now, we have 11.

6:30: Dinnertime. It must be confessed that a few tortillas fly from my sister to my dad; it’s just much faster to pass them through the air.

7:30: I take William, the baby, and the dog on a walk. The breeze isn’t too hot and the cicadas are silent. The mingled chorus of crickets and sprinklers, however, reminds me that summer is still here. I walk barefoot on the warm pavement, greeting neighbors and smiling at a three-year-old’s prattle (Our dog can jump down from a retaining wall without crying. Did you know that?).

8:30: The boys have donned pajamas. After bedtime stories, we pray together, two brown heads resting on my lap. Goodnight songs and kisses, then bedtime.

11:30: Stillness. The little ones have long been asleep, and six teenage girls claim the house as theirs. The noises that only surface in the quiet hours finally venture out. A few echoing voices float from assorted rooms.

I sigh and rejoice in the simple things – the tears and the laughter, the small calamities and the pure joys, the chaos and the peace – that make up life.

Busy, busy, busy

My last big hurrah before school starts has begun. My mom left to visit her parents on Tuesday, and two of my sisters will join her on Monday. Those of us left at home are staying pretty occupied with cooking, cleaning, watching the little ones, chauffeuring siblings, and doing anything else that needs doing. A lot goes into this running a household stuff.

La familia

Looking over my blog, I've realized that most of my posts are about my family. This does make sense; they occupy a large portion of my thoughts and my time. I want to cherish each moment I have with them before I head back to school.

A picture is worth a thousand words, some say. So, here are some pictures:


My parents


Four soon-to-be-separated sisters


The crazy little brothers


The much-loved baby

The future nears

My parents’ schedules left the seven of us to ourselves last night. We girls quickly began the scramble to put the three little ones to bed. I bathed Hayden, Kelsey dressed the boys, I read to them, and they were all put up. Then it was our time.

We passed the remainder of the evening (and early morning, I suppose) playing games, looking at wedding dresses, watching movies, eating grapes and popcorn, laughing, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

A sense of urgency permeates these last few weeks. We soak up each moment we have together, revisiting old memories and exploring future dreams. We’re all together for now, but how much longer do we have? Soon I’ll go back to school. Then, next year, Cara will go to college. What will life be like then? I don’t like the unknown.