Pastor Mama

This morning I preached from the lectionary text, John 3: 1-16 http://bible.oremus.org/  The claim statement of the sermon was, "Today is Trinity Sunday.  And instead of giving you a 3-point lecture on the intricacies of the doctrine of the Trinity, so that we might know it and explain it even better, I was rather inspired to revel in and explore the fact that our faith is not something we own, or have, or control, but rather, in Trinitarian language, our faith can be summed up in the words of David Lose, “it is through the unpredictable power of the Spirit that we can receive Jesus as God’s surprising and unexpected messiah who reveals to us the gracious and loving nature of the Father.” (David Lose, Luther Seminary, St. Paul Minnesota) May it be so."
After church, there was a pool party for the youth, to which I arrived late because I needed to meet with a couple for pre-marital counseling.  When I finally arrived, my two-year old, who had been at the party since it began, was losing her patience. I had given clear instructions that she was not to go in the pool without me.  After the party, two of the youth asked if they could come back to our apartment and later asked their parents if they could have a sleep over.  They watched Hannah for about an hour while I attempted to nap. We then embarked upon an adventure which was to include dinner, a park, ice cream, and grocery shopping.
 I explain all of this to set the scene of what occored many hours after my "inspired sermon" about the unpredictability of God.  In line at the grocery store, at quarter to nine, as my two year old attempts to open every package in the cart, the pre-teens are doing their best to stop her (and all the while losing their patience), and I'm wondering just how I got to this very place on the night before a doctoral class is to begin in Chicago.  Looking for inspiration, I turned to the 12-year-old and asked, "what was my sermon about this morning?  Oh, right, the unpredictability of God!"
And that is when my attitude was turned to gratitude. Gratitude for the amazing abilities of the two-year-old who had peeled the label off of the peanut butter container before I had a chance to buy it, gratitude for the intelligence of the 10-year-old who just explained in great detail what his sugar rushes entail (AFTER I bought him a freezy, juicy something at Dairy Queen), gratitude for the 12-year-old who remembered to bring napkins when I forgot them, and gratitude for my husband who rested this afternoon so he could prepare for a week of parenting solo.
"The wind^* blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.’  I am grateful for the movement of the Spirit.