Happy Thanksgiving!

I can't help starting with a few more "Mouse-isms".

*"Look at me flying over the countryside!!!" on the swing in the backyard.

*"Pastor Stephie said her cousin doesn't fold towels right. She showed her how to fold towels the right way. Pastor Stephie knows how to fold towels." This didn't come until the Sunday after Stephanie's sermon on being a woman of God. The point of the towel illustration was that Stephanie wanted her husband's (not cousin's!) help folding towels but then decided he wasn't doing it right and had to be told how to do it correctly. It was a self-effacing illustration to show how women need to let things go at a certain point. I guess it really made a point to Miss Mouse! She thinks "Pastor Stephie" is about the coolest thing, so it's possible any and all illustrations used by Stephanie will make lasting impressions on Miss Mouse.

Actually, I was very impressed that she was holding onto a sermon that she'd heard over a week ago; I'm big into having my children in church with me, not at the nursery, so it's extremely encouraging to realize that she is getting something out of church. I've never questioned that children do "get something out of church", and, in fact, I believe they add a lot to church, as well. However, I'm in a minority with that opinion, it seems, and it was just incredibly reinforcing for me as I continue to sweat my way through services with the three of us spread out in a pew strewn with snacks and "quiet" books and toys. That sentence from Miss Mouse was exactly what I needed, especially as Baby Mouse is entering a more, um, "active" stage of church attending.

*This one isn't a saying, but it was another sweet moment. Again, it involves church, but, so goes our life, eh? As the offering plate was passed last Sunday, Miss Mouse saw other people dropping in their welcome cards (it was the way for people to sign up for participating in the church decorating night next week). As the plate was passed by us, I reached for it, but Miss Mouse put her little hands up, stopped the plate, and popped in her welcome card. She looked at me with a very proud smile.

To explain why the last two incidents above were so incredibly encouraging last Sunday, I should explain more about the day. It happens that we were late to church (well, we followed Mr. T and the other pastors in, so for me, that's late) and had slim pickins as far as seating options. Everyone sits on the edge of the pews (especially when you're the one last in looking for a spot, it seems like everyone is on the edge)! The only place we could sneak in without tripping over anyone was a pew fairly far to the front (which doesn't bother me really) next to a couple that are fairly well-known for not believing children should be in church. That obviously bothers me and, though I really do like the couple an awful lot and have had several great visits with them, I was terribly nervous to sit by them with my pair of Mice. Good thing I remembered deoderant!

There are few words for how proud I was of Miss Mouse for sitting reading her bulletin through most of the service and then having a quiet Cheerio (actually Whole O's, with the dietary restrictions right now) snack during the sermon. It blew me out of the water when she popped in the welcome card. After the service the woman we were sitting next to complimented me on my beautiful girls who were so well-behaved during church; she had nearly fallen off the pew laughing at the welcome card incident; so I'm encouraged to think that she and her husband saw my girls and perhaps saw a glimmer of how important it is to have children in church. Miss Mouse didn't learn how to participate in a church service by playing in a nursery. It's fine for the parents that do take their children there; I don't have a problem with it, but I do have a problem with being such an "odd duck" because I don't take my kids there! My hope and prayer is that the little Mice will soften hearts toward children in worship simply by being there and being their sweet selves.

Last Sunday as a whole was a wonderful day. Not only did Miss Mouse silently preach a sermon on children in church, but we were welcomed by two older women behind us after the service and invited down to coffee!! It was nearing Baby Mouse's naptime which meant we declined, but the ladies helped Miss Mouse with her coat, helped me wrestle Baby Mouse into her carseat, and were really, truly interested in me and the Mice. True interest is something I don't experience a whole lot in a very large area anymore (comparatively anyway), so it is precious and appreciated when it is present. When we got home, Miss Mouse worked on a Thanksgiving project, listing things she is thankful for on a turkey we drew in an outline of her hand. I love these projects! On my turkey I wrote "Mr. T, Baby Mouse, Miss Mouse, Hubert"; on her turkey she had me write "sunglasses, watch, Mickey, outside shoes" - we'll have to work on that a bit in the coming years!

As Thanksgiving rolls around yet again, I find myself increasingly thankful each day for the love of a husband who is pulled in way too many directions and yet strives continually to keep his family at the top of the priority list; the love of a toddler who strokes my hair and sings to me, who nurses her baby doll (and, for that matter, her stuffed kitten), who 'teaches' her doll to wave at plants in the same way I'm teaching her baby sister, and who says "sure (sir!)" way more often than can be expected of a two-year-old; the love of a baby who smiles almost continually, who has no fear - crawling alone into her large, empty carseat box in the living room or into dark rooms to search out adventure, who continues to nurse to sleep at 9.5 months old, who doesn't sleep through the night but who basically just wants either to play and have a good time or to nurse and cuddle if she's up, who grins so wide that her dimple shows, who looks just like my Dad when she's serious (complete with the ears he and I share!) and just like my Grandpa Don and Auntie Linda when she smiles; and the love of family and friends who, incredibly, wound up throwing me two surprise thirtieth birthday parties, who celebrate with me on occasions like that and who have been with and put up with me on other occasions where life was at its worst. It's a very blessed person who can write that paragraph. Blessed and thankful. Happy Thanksgiving.