When Your Day Ends With A Hamster

Um, I'm not sure why we came home with a hamster. A hamster named Dumpling, who is residing in his new cage in the parlor. A hamster whom Dave has not yet met.

I suppose it started yesterday when a friend was having tea at my table (doesn't everything always start with tea?). Her 15 year old son is filling in for someone on a traveling music band and is gone for a couple weeks. This is a prelude to all three of her children leaving on missions trips this summer. She said something like, "We may never all sit down at a table together again."

This rocked my world. So much so that I picked up the spout of the teapot and had every intention of pouring tea out the handle.

We are contemplating putting Avonlea in school next year. She is leaving for two months this summer on a mission trip. Both of these things equal a change in our family circle. A broadening and a tightening all at the same time.

So today, I picked Avonlea and Grant up at their math class and I took them to Good Will to kill some time before their piano lesson. Avonlea found it there. A hamster cage. She wanted it. Grant wanted it. No use telling them that we don't have a hamster, they fell in love with a cage. I looked at my two oldest children; loving, responsible children. I melted. I bought the hamster cage.

After Avonlea had math and piano we raced home to take all her medications for Lyme and then sped back out to school testing for 2 1/2 hours. And at the end of this exhausting day, I took her, and met the other kids at the pet store. They all choose the same hamster and fought about who got to carry the box out to the car.

We all worked together to set up the cage and then the four of them sat down around the cage and stared that poor hamster down. Grant looked up at me, love radiating out of his sweet face and said, "This is the best day of my life."

We will sit down at a table together again, God willing. We will sit down around a hamster cage again, God willing. But times are changing, my children are growing up and out. It takes so little to make them happy.  I suppose that is why we came home with a hamster.

Conversion

Rowan met me, with big shining bright-eyes, at the bottom of the stairs one morning several weeks ago.
"Rowan," I gasped, "what's happened?"
"Well mom, I led Gypsy to the Lord this morning."
Gypsy is his 1 1/2 year old dog that he loves like kin.
"Really Rowan? How?"
"Well I snuggled up with her in her kennel and I asked her if she wanted to become a Christian. She said yes so I told her about Jesus and what He did for us. Then she prayed with me. After that I said, 'Gyppy you're going to Heaven!' and she started barking strangely."
"Wow Rowan."
"Yeah." Huge smile.

At breakfast Rowan repeated to the kids what he had told me.
He concluded with, "Yep, Gypsy's a Christian."
Grant, the skeptic, replied, "I'll believe it when I see changed behavior!"
Which really showed me that he gets this whole salvation thing. Grant had more to contribute to this conversation, "Uh mom, why are you acting like Rowan's all cute for praying with Gypsy? When Avonlea and I led Lancelot (Persian cat) to the Lord and we asked to have a tea party to celebrate you said animals don't go to Heaven and can't experience salvation."
"Oh really? I don't recall that." Can you say 1st child versus 3rd child?

But Rowan, full of the joy of leading something into glory, had the last word.
"Yeah, and when we go to the beach next month, I'm going to baptize her!"

Gliding and Sliding into Winter

It's been snowing intermittently for two days.
Dave's home from work and public school children throng the streets.
It's the perfect opportunity for me to post the pictures of us sliding and gliding into winter.

Dave bought us all kayaks this summer to use on the lake up near the cottage. We had several family adventures on them in the glorious days of fall.

A month later when we went up to the cottage we traded our kayaks for ice skates!

And today, the sleds go whizzing past on the white streets.
To my husband, this kinetic energy is what winter is all about.
To me, all this movement is part of the great dance of seasons. A rollicking, infectious performance choreographed by our artistic God. Whether I'm kayaking or ice skating or sipping tea in front of the fire, I am thoroughly entertained.