Sunday Sunday

(First let me say I am sorry to all whom I have not responded to…phone calls, emails, fb messages…we have been without internet since the day before Thanksgiving…then it was “repaired”…but, alas, it is still not working. It comes for about an hour every 3 days. So I have written a few emails and blog updates in Microsoft Word and then whenever I notice Internet working…I quickly copy and paste it and hope it uploads before the internet cuts out again. So do forgive the slow response or complete lack thereof;) I love you all and want more than anything to hear from you and respond…it is just nearly impossible right now)

So here is one update;) More to come…

It was a lovely Sunday.
We woke up to a frigid morning with clear Himalayan mountains in the distance.

Space heaters and spiced hot chai warmed kept our bodies warm and cozy from the threat of the cold outside.
The tunes that sing of our coming baby King filled the house.
A delicious american breakfast of grits, chicken sausage, eggs, and toast filled our bellies.
And babies were content.
We even made it to “Worship” all together and on time (quite a feat)
For the SECOND week in a row.
And we even lasted the whole service, with the comic relief of a huge gaseous explosion from our youngest that surely aroused any slumbering worshiper.
We came home and prepared a delicious lunch with many fresh vegetables, cut by a husband, patient.

Then we enjoyed a wonderful film about Father Damien, a priest who gave his life to lepers off the island of Hawaii…eventually losing his life to the very disease he went to care for.
Then, after the movie, we all laid down for an afternoon nap.

And that is when it all began…;)
I got Elliot to sleep, but then one of Adam’s crazy toys was somehow triggered…starting it’s obnoxious noise making.
And the “wild man” (Adam’s new nickname…given by our new friend, Dr. James, a retired doc from Vandy) was woken up and not to slumber again.
So…as everyone else was already deep asleep, I decided to keep him busy so at least 2 of the 3 adults could get ample rest;)

So I strapped Adam on my back, fired up the gas stove to heat some of the homemade potpourri that has been filling our house with so many wonderful aromas the past 2 weeks. (It is the same one Mother Teresa (Cooksey) filled my house with growing up and gives me a warm sense of nostalgia and love for all things family and this time of year).

We were about to start a book but then saw the colors of the sky and the falling of the sun…
And knew that a glorious sunset was coming.
So we bundled up,  “wild man” found his seat in the basket, and we took off on the cycle.

We rode and rode.
We passed monkeys watching us from the trees.
I try to explain to Adam that he is a lucky boy…that where I am from…we have to pay $20 to go into a large zoo with cages to see monkeys and they are always behind bars and you definitely cannot seem them while riding a bike, and on a daily basis. But he could not quite comprehend that;)
We chased the sun, one of my favorite things to do;)
But it was setting fast and far…
So we hurried home to get on the rooftop to catch a few pictures of its glory.

If His creation is so radiant, how much more must He be?

And we saw more monkeys staggered in trees set against a watercolored sky.

there are two monkeys perched there…can you see them?

Took my breath away.

After the sun set, we descended back to our home.

And there the potpourri greeted me…
In all its CHARRED majesty
Yes.
I had forgotten to turn it off.
Smoke filled the house.
My favorite pot is forever scarred.
Actually…more like coated in charred cinnamon sticks and cloves;)

And as I am scrubbing pots charred…
 I hear a frantic cry from the other side of the house. It sounded a bit like an echo and was definitely a baby’s cry.
But Elliot really never cries.
We had just said that day how since Elliots first grasp of air scream at birth…he has hardly fussed much. Definitely when he is really hungry or has a wet diaper, he makes it known…but the boy is just so content!
So I fear the worst…that he has fallen out of his swing or something.
I run in the room…and though he is stable…he is screaming his head off.
So I pick him up to try and prevent the contagious cry from spreading to Adam and waking up the rest of the house.

He quiets…
Adam breaks down.
He is inconsolable for a mom with only 2 arms.
The wild man is hungry and jealous.
I get Adam’s tube feedings set up, go to attach it, babe in arms…
And….”wild man’s” ostomy bag has exploded and…poo is everywhere.
Oh my.
Literally, EVERYWHERE.
Does it get better than this;)?
So that was the wake up call for the napping house.
My perception of peaceful Sabbath rest…again interrupted…
We got Adam cleaned up and prepared for a calmer evening.
Raja, Hadassah, and I pep talk each other…it is all going to be ok.
We will not lose it;)

As we are going to sit down to rest…surprise visitors!
And the poor souls have to sit on (literally) piles of laundry.
They are surrounded by a house, in utter chaos.
And we laugh and try to extend grace to these dear guests, who are unaware of their unfortunate timing.
And we visit and laugh and such is life.

As the day came to an end, crazy though it was, we were reminded that it was His Sabbath.
And though rest looks different for us than it used to.
It is holy.
In all its mess and chaos…He is present
And thus, it is HOLY.

Also, it was the first Sunday of Advent.

It was a day to remember HOPE.

To hope and anticipate His coming.
To hope as we count down to a day that chaos was interrupted and THE PEACE CHILD was birthed.
Though He was a child a peace, He came into a world and a birthing scene, all but peaceful.
A stable that had it’s fair share of chaos.
And as I think of the trek that virgin mom and her dear husband took across land.
I imagine that restful would be one word to not define their life.

So we brought out our nativity set.
Lit some candles.
And feasted on His Word.
Reminded ourselves of the True REST.
By fixing our feet on the Rock.
Feeding ourselves with Bread of Life.
Drinking deep from a well that never dries.
For He beckons us to “Come”

So we feast as we read.
Hindi and English.
With Hadassah celebrating for the first real time.
It was beautiful.
Because really, it is all about Him.
In the moments of peace and the moments of insanity.
His Hope is still our foundation and our purpose and our reason to keep going.

This first day as we join millions in awaiting the Day.
The day that Hope was birthed into a world downward spiraling.
The day that Hope entered an all but “silent night”.
The day that Hope was birthed to an earthly mother, virgin, and an earthly father, faithful.
The day that an end to perishing was birthed.

In that we rejoice and we remember and we HOPE despite all the craze of the days.
For those things, they pass.
Guests leave, and forget the chaos inside.
Ostomy bags are thrown out and new ones applied.
Potpourri can be made again and smoke fades.
Crying babies are comforted.

So quickly this life, it passes.
And fades.
All flesh…is grass…fading away.
Only He lasts.
He remains.
Let us  not become distracted or downcast by temporal things.
When Hope breathes and moves and creates and redeems all around us.

Because, really…
As I look at this once abandoned child with no hope, in the world’s eyes…
I am reminded that he is now loved by countless thousands and is a son and grandson and nephew…
THAT
IS
HOPE

As I cradle this precious 2 month old and think of all that had to be woven together perfectly in order to create this little life. And as I try to comprehend how my body is needed to nourish his body, growing…
THAT
IS
HOPE

As I hear her kinda raspy voice read off the Word, Living, in Hindi
As the words flow from lips, charred.
As we reflect how when we first met she was veiled and living in fear and without a sense of hope…and we look back on these 6 months and how she was grown and how He has been working redemption in her…and how she has been provided for again and again…
THAT
IS
HOPE

And as I look at my husband, so strong and so faithful…
Reading and worshiping as he cradles his son…
THAT
IS
HOPE

So yes, the day seemed insane at times.
And yes, my kitchen remains a royal mess.
But none of those things can separate me from the HOPE that is coming.
That has come.

“It is often in the chaos and confusion of our lives that the Gospel is most clearly heard”-tim keller

Other fun shots from the day of chaos: