Meet Jesus

I'd like you all to meet Jesus. That's Jesus, pictured above, the one with the beak and the webbed feet. And no, we're not trying to be multicultural around here. We're not branching out and naming our stuffed animals Hay-sue-s. That's Jesus. As in of Nazareth. As in the Christ. If my mind serves me correctly, my parents gave this stuffed duck to my son for Easter. On his white fluffy torso are the words Jesus Loves Me and if you push the correct spot on his wing, the corresponding tune sings out. In it's entirety.



Garrett took to loving this particular plush toy a few weeks ago. He insisted on taking it to bed with him and, when he rolled onto it in the middle of the night and we heard Jesus Loves Me over and over and over again on the baby monitor, we decided it was going to need to be a non sleepy time animal. So, in the morning, when Garrett gets out of his crib, he grabs the duck and carries him around for half the day. Because he knows that the tune the duck plays has something to do with Jesus, he has started referring to the animal as such. Just this morning he patted the spot next to him in his high chair and shrieked, "Jesus!" Two nights ago he ran around the house looking for him, spotted him and yelled, "Jesus! Hi!"



And yesterday, he took him swimming. The back door was open to let the dog in and out and Garrett was playing outside. Suddenly he came running in and handed me a soaking wet Jesus. Apparently, the dog's water bucket is an excellent duck pond. That duck is still not completely dry. And, obviously, his song is a little (oh alright a lot) out of tune. He's apparently got a short in the system because now he bursts into worship all on his own from time to time. And other times he flat refuses to sing, even when his wing is pushed repeatedly. Here's the little guy drying out in our sink.

This poor duck smells awful. The dog was in need of some fresh water anyway and now Jesus smells like algae and dog saliva. I am aware of just how irreverent that sentence sounds. I've encouraged my son to name him something else but it just won't work. In his mind that duck is Jesus. Plain and simple. If he wasn't two and at the very beginning of his spiritual journey, I'd worry about having a golden calf situation on my hands. Anyway, I sprayed him with air freshner to try to relieve some of the stench but now he just smells like vanilla dog breath.

I explained to my son that we don't submerge stuffed animals under water but I think my lecture fell on deaf ears. It's a duck after all. He's no dummy. He knows ducks belong in the water.

Paris

I said to my mom and then, also, to a good friend, that I was going to run away--all by myself--to Paris, France. I don't know why I said Paris because that's never been a bucket list stop for me. Maybe I said Paris because people could spend a year trying to find me in Paris when, really, I was in New York all along just watching a crap ton of plays, eating cheesecake from Junior's, and cupcakes from Magnolia. So what I'm saying is that if I go missing, DON'T LOOK FOR ME IN ANY THEATRES OR BAKERIES IN NYC.

When Garrett was a toddler and he got head lice, I wanted to quit being a mom for a minute or two. Just long enough for my replacement to clean up his scalp and do all the laundry. But since then I haven't wanted to duck out on my responsibilities.

But right now. World, the flu has been swirling around the toilets of this house for a straight week and I am over it. It isn't just the stomach flu though. It's not just the fact that someone in this house has been throwing up or thinking they're going to throw up or having excessive poop for seven entire days. That's disgusting and I kind of want to just burn the house to the ground and start over again. But I'm also just really, really exhausted from lives falling apart around me.

The really great thing about the fact that no one ever reads my blog anymore (which probably has a lot to do with the fact that no one ever writes anything on this blog anymore) is that all the lives in turmoil around me are not lives who frequent this particular writing space, ever. So when I say that a marriage is in shambles (not mine) or that a mother is dying (not mine) or that a husband is a wreck and his wife is in distress over it (not mine, not me), no one is going to look at that say, "Oh, man, she wrote about me on her blog that no one reads."

I am so incredibly blessed to be able to speak into people's lives.

And maybe that is the takeaway. I thought about writing that I am tired of crises and that if one more friend tells me one more awful thing that I cannot fix but will want to, I will just hop on the nearest plane and fly to "Paris" so that I can escape the doom and destruction and difficulty. Because I can pray and that is of utmost importance but, also, I am a pretty positive and upbeat person who just wants to stick my hands in things and put pressure on that bleeding organ until someone can stitch it closed. And when I can't fix it, sometimes, the terrible and evil side of me just wants to yell, "Stop hurting!" When I know just as well as anyone that we don't just stop hurting and a lot of times we have to walk over those hot coals and those shards of glass barefoot. We have to put in the work and we need people to walk beside us while we do it. We don't need people to run away to "Paris" never to be seen again.

I am so incredibly blessed to be able to speak into people's lives. That is what God just told me while I prepared to dump my own frustration and pain and WHY onto a blog I haven't updated in almost a month. He has put me right here, right now, to be a safe space for people to ask for prayer. A safe place for people to cry. A safe place for people to share their hearts.

Yesterday, a friend in my life said, "I don't know what overcame me but I just saw you and I thought I've got to go and see Lori!" She did. And I saw her crying and I just wrapped my arms around her. I've never hugged her before. Ever. But I just knew that was the thing to do. Because I have Jesus and He loves me. And if I can wrap that love around another person who is hurting, I will.

But there are moments...

Moments when I think, I just need a few days in "Paris" to get away from the diarrhea and the vomit and broken hearts.

Pray for your Pastor's Wife. And pray for me. I need prayer for my own self--so that I can pour the love of Jesus into others.

A Tale of Two Stuffed Animals

His name is Monkey.

He is Matthew's favorite stuffed friend.

Caterpillar or Puppy will do in a pinch.

But Monkey's where it's at.

He went missing about three weeks ago.

Strangely, Matthew never said anything. So, obviously, we didn't point out the fact that we couldn't find him. We simply handed him Puppy or Caterpillar and proceeded to scour the house looking for Monkey. I didn't remember taking him anywhere.

When I found him a few days ago, zipped inside a Penguin backpack from Sea World, I was elated.

Turns out when your littlest boy's favorite sleepytime friend goes missing, it really upsets Mommy.

I took the newly discovered Monkey and handed him to Matthew.

He grabbed him with both hands, pulled him into a tight hug, grinned and said, "YOU FOUND MY MONKEY!" So apparently he had noticed that he was missing. He began kissing Monkey's well-loved face. "Thank you!"

And then he proceeded to carry him around for the rest of day, never releasing him from his toddler vice grip.

His name is Elephant. Or Ele (Ella).

He is Garrett's favorite stuffed friend.

Nothing else will do in a pinch.

He has a duck he named Jesus when he was a toddler. That's not pronounced Hay-sue-s, by the way. For a time they were both his favorites and he carried them everywhere. But then it just became all about Elephant.

He's never been missing for longer than a day.

Heaven help us all if he does. You'll hear a scream and know if came from somewhere in the Salt Lake area. It will reverberate over mountain ranges and seas. And the world will know.

Elephant is every bit as important to Garrett as his real live family members, I'm sure of it.

I found them side by side on the floor today. A tale of two stuffed animals.

And I had to take their picture.