I See....

Monday, September 3, 2012
Write about one object you see at this exact moment.

I see paper towels.  A half roll or so.  Standing upright on our kitchen table.  Still bearing last nights crumbs.  The scrap bits of a most delicious family night.

Most of you following this life tale of ours know some of our details.  We have a bit of an unusual, crazy life around here.  I joke often, that it is loud and sticky, but that's not a joke.  It is loud.  And sticky. But that is a shiny squirrel details.

We take people in.  Our door is open.  A lot. Sometimes it's foster kids.  Sometimes missionaries.  High school kids.  College kids.  Sometimes they stay for a few hours, sometimes days, sometimes forever.  Some just give us their hearts and some move in.  

I like all of it.

It's an odd thing though, and I talked about it with my mom not long ago.  You see, to me, we are nothing extraordinary, not even anything special.  In fact, I usually feel like we are the train wreck you can't take your eyes off of.  

Our home is not a lot of things.  It's not quiet or peaceful.  It's not organized.  A lot of times it's not neat.  Most often it just borders on clean (although that has improved significantly with Chicklet, a most amazing cleaner-upper and we are more than grateful). 

In talking with my mom I told her about all the different people that had been coming into our home lately.  Some old friends, now grown up college kids or even graduated.  Wow.  Some new friends we are just getting to know.  I told her how there are stretches where I never know who will come on in one of our open doors, who will knock or who will call.  Just because they want to be here.  I come home from an errand more often than not to find someone here. 

I wondered to her, why do they come?  I can't offer much.  In fact, a lot of times, I feel like I am barely even able to give the person a moment of undivided attention.  Sometimes they get washed over in the chaos that is a "big" family.  I say that lightly, we are not a big family with only 7 here full time.  

Well, mom's say what mom's say, and it was nice, but not true.  I'm not some kind of saint or wear some halo or even qualify as a "good person".  I"m not.  Ask around.  You'll hear it.  I tick off plenty of people and have a long list of faults that make me a very difficult person.

But.  I can't help still wondering about my revolving door home.  It's a good thing.  I love that our home is like this.  

I hope it has to do with us being genuine.  Even though we are fully faulted and pretty much walking train wrecks around here, I hope we are authentic.  I hope that we take most people as they are, and not the cliche version of that, but the real deal.  

There are always a few people that set off my radar and our protective coatings go on, but for the most part, I hope we are able to welcome and love unconditional.  I hope we are graceful and humble in accepting people exactly as they are.  I know we say regularly to people, "no judgement" and mean it.  

So how does all this tie to a roll of paper towels?

Well, you see, Chicklet lives here and because she does, her friends come over.  We get to meet them and they get to meet us.  She has pretty amazing friends because she knows how to be a good friend and her heart is as beautiful as she is, if not more, even though she will say no.

Chicklet is long time friends with Chef J.  

And now, we have a new tradition.  A highly delicious tradition.  

Sunday dinner with Chef J.  

And last nights dinner was hands down, one of the best ones yet.  We ate better than well, all loud and crowded 8 around our kitchen table, mismatched chairs and spilled drinks.  Kids being kids and adults savoring.  It was crazy and perfect all in one.  

Chicklet did the dishes around midnight and this morning up early with my littlest ones, I sit here, writing again, at my table, holding on to a few last dessert crumbs and the ever present roll of paper towels--cause we use the classy napkins around here--remembering the flavors and sounds, smiles and looks, the conversations of life and food and seeing this strange wonderful life I get to live.

What one thing do you see at this exact moment?