two things

I had two happy moments this week and wanted to share them with you. Both were unexpected; both were thrilling in their own ways. One was hoped for, the other one was just a taste of grace.

1. hoped for: last Sunday, I cleared the table for breakfast, which meant putting away my laptop. I had been working on pictures from a shoot on Friday (ooh, doesn't that sound impressive) and saved a couple to my new, pretty, sleek Sony USB drive (I call it my geek stick) to transfer to the desktop for presentation. For clearing the table, I put the laptop in its case and the geek stick in my pocket. As I walked around, I thought to myself, I ought to put this up by the big computer for safekeeping and then promptly forgot all about it... until I put my hand in my pocket at lunchtime. The stick wasn't there. Maybe I did put it in a safe place. Don't remember doing it, but I have been known to do something and then forget that it's been done. I have lost my mind before. Maybe it is safe at home. We got home and I promptly started tearing the place apart. Anywhere I could reasonably have put it, I searched. No luck. Monday, after Michael and I did school, I packed up the kids and headed back to church. Looked in the bathroom (took the kids there after church). Had a secretary let me into the auditorium and scoured the floor in there. Left secretary with my phone number and a promise to call me if it turned up. Drove to the restaurant where we had lunch. Not there. Asked in Trader Joe's. Also not there. Started to feel very sad and depressed. Not that anything on there was irreplaceable--I had everything on one computer or the other anyway--but I had my photography on there, pictures of a family, and nothing to identify me. I let it go for the rest of the week (no, really!) and then started asking around again this morning at church. Once again, no luck... until I realized (sorry, during the service) that I was sitting in front of at least six guys busy working on computers (doing slides and sound mixing and who knows what else). Maybe, just maybe, someone picked it up and thought, Wow, this pretty thing looks like it belongs to a computer. Hey, there are computers right there! I might leave it where the computers go! So I timidly approached the Tech Guys and said, "I know you are not the Lost and Found, but you have computers and I lost a computer item and has anyone given you a USB drive?" The answer was yes! My little drive and I were reunited! Truly a bright spot in my week. And there is now a small text file on the drive with my name and phone number in case we are ever separated again.

2. taste of grace: We went to Manhattan Beach yesterday (think Fort Myers Beach but bigger and on a hill), which meant that we had to drive home on the 110, which ends in Pasadena. There is no straight way to get home from there, so I generally turn whenever it's convenient (this is thanks to Caroline, whose infant screaming in the car urged me to take the fastest way home, meaning whichever way had the green light). Yesterday, I turned on Del Mar and was greeted with unexpected beauty. There is about a mile long stretch (give or take) of street lined with huge jacarandas. I think that's what they are; if they're not, they sure look like them. The trees are in full bloom right now and the street is lined with this beautiful purple procession. It was so unexpected, so breathtaking, such a thing to give thanks for. If you are in the area, take a drive, or better yet, take a walk or a bike ride, along Del Mar. Better hurry because the blossoms are already falling. I wonder if my jacaranda sapling back home has blossomed this year.

Boxes are beginning to pile up.

oh, the intrigue

After dinner tonight, the children decided they wanted to draw while I frosted a certain seven year old's birthday cake. Since the table was full of dinner crumbs, mixers, and bowls of powdered sugar, they spread out in front of the oven on the kitchen floor (incidentally, between me and the footstool which enables me to reach the measuring cups in the cabinet above the stove). Michael started an illustrated book about men fishing for dinner, a whale, and a shark. Not sure where it's going yet; we'll see. Caroline spent her time very carefully drawing a secret birthday card for her brother. I patiently spelled out all of the words except for the names involved.

She was doing all this right next to Michael. The funny part came when she showed it to Elanor and vehemently shushed her, telling her, "Quiet! This is a surprise for Michael's birthday at breakfast tomorrow!"

mother's day

Is it Mother's Day or Mothers' Day? Now that I am actually writing it, I have to confess that I have no clue which one is right. The sad part is that I just read two different blogs all about the day. Just checked, and I'm going with Mother's.

All this is beside the point; I just wanted y'all to know that although Mother's Day is a little sad for me nowadays, Andy and the kids did a great job of making me feel special, and that was nice. Saturday, I was ready to skip Mother's Day altogether; by the end of Sunday, I was OK with it. I think I just need to remember that I am really on the receiving end of the day now, not just the giving end of it.

High points: Andy made cinnamon rolls for breakfast. The children made a card. Fuddruckers for lunch. Quiet time with my laptop (no one said I had to be social all day, did they?). Family bike ride down to Coldstone, Anthropologie, and Trader Joe's. Scrumptious Andy dinner. No dishes (all day!). No bath duty. No bedtime duty. Actually quite a nice way to spend the day.

Happy (late) Mother's Day.

thoughts on tipping

Have you ever wondered what is the right amount to tip someone who has served you? I wonder that every single time I eat out, get my hair cut, have my car washed, or ask someone to watch my children. I wish there was a hard and fast rule (15% doesn’t always seem right, esp. when the babysitting rate is negotiable from the get-go, or when the service is bad, just mediocre, or really fantastic). We went to the car wash today and as I watched this man (old enough to be my father) carefully wiping each and every interior surface of my large van, I wondered, “How much is this service worth to me?”

One summer in college, I worked at a nice sit down restaurant. Working in a restaurant, even for a short time, really gives you a chance to see how those who serve are treated by those who are served. Are our servants (so to speak) all hard workers? No, not necessarily. Are our servants all nice people? Hardly. Are our servants underpaid? Or overpaid? I do not know. Are our servants images of the living God? Absolutely. I can remember cringing at the derision in my coworkers’ voices when they had been left a tract by the customers—a tract accompanied by a lousy tip. Did they need to know Jesus? Sure they did. But what I found was more important was that they needed to know that those who claimed to love Jesus could show that love to them, to the stranger in the apron.

If you went to Wheaton with me, you will remember the Forum Wall in the MSC, where anyone and everyone could post notes, pictures, and treatises. Do you remember the one put up by the local waiter (or was it a waitress?)? I remember that he blasted each and every one of us for being rude, demanding, and cheap. I remember that he told us that local wait staff hated having us as customers because we could be relied on to never leave a good tip. I know students are notoriously poor, but maybe God would be better served if we stayed home instead of stiffing the waitress.

Over the past several years, I have decided that it is important to err on the side of excess in tipping some people: my hairstylist, for example, and the girls who watch my children for me. These are people I will ask to serve me again (and my children and my hair are both important to me). What about the car wash guy, though, or the waitress who forgot that I wanted another Diet Coke? Chances are good that I won’t see them again, or if I do, they won’t remember me. But what if I do? Or, if I don’t, does it matter? If that waitress saw me praying with my children, I feel like I ought to show her that her care for me is important, even if she didn’t do a fantastic job. After all, my children lavish me with kisses and hugs even when I do a lousy job as a mother. The car wash guy didn’t see me praying, but shouldn’t I show him generous love anyway? I hate washing my car and when I take it in, it is generally full of fingerprints and old crumbs. The service provided is worth a lot to me, probably more than the car wash charges (although I won’t tell them that). Maybe, just maybe, my tip will mean more to him than it does to me.

Maybe my tips aren’t noticed by those I tip. Maybe they are. If they are noticed, if I am noticed, I want it to be for the love I show to those who have taken the time to serve me. They are doing the work that I am choosing not to do for myself: cooking, washing dishes, vacuuming my van. If I am rich enough to be served, then I guess maybe I need to view it as an opportunity to love on a fellow child of God. I still don’t know how much is too much, but I hope that if I make a mistake, it is on the side of love.