“We have grown far from the dirt,” Roy said, in his sermon a few weeks ago, and while I know what he means, I myself never feel very far from the dirt. Certainly not while watching Zoom church, which I’ve been doing in my home office space next to my Boston ferns, just barely holding on through the winter and shedding fronds at an alarming pace, while ensuring that Junia doesn’t eat stickers off the floor or color on the walls.
Later in the service, Valerie said, “Lord, you made everything and called it good.” Including, presumably, the dirt in all its forms.
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God isn’t a new concept for Junia, who was baptized, in the midst of COVID, at five weeks old. She bounced in her carrier during Zoom church services and coffee hours. She played in the grass during the outdoor Easter service at Orient Congregational Church. She loves Judson, without pews and with so much space to run around and so many people to encourage her to do so, and in general, church is one of her favorite places to enjoy a few sips of breast milk. (Weaning is going great, thanks for asking.) We pray every night before bedtime, using words I remember from my own childhood. Rachel Held Evans’s What Is God Like? is one of her favorite books. But what really seems to have kicked her awareness of God into high gear is a little board book she got from my grandparents for Christmas, Good Night God. We started calling the bedtime prayer “saying good night to God,” and now, when storybooks and songs conclude, we don’t have to tell her it’s time for prayers anymore. No, now she announces it’s time for God. Or, as she calls God, “Guy.” “Guy!” she exclaims as we turn off the rotating night light that projects outlines of sea creatures onto the ceiling, and we say, Yes, time for Guy. I mean, God.
Continue reading “Guy Loves You: Vignettes from Winter 2022” →