by Heather Plett | Jul 1, 2005 | Uncategorized
She sat in the tree waiting for Booboo. The last time she’d perched in her favourite spot, he’d crawled down the tree to see her, wiggling his way onto her finger when she offered it. She waited and waited for him this time, but he didn’t come. I checked the leaves in the nearby branches to see if he was perched there. “Maybe he had to take a nap,” I offered, but she wasn’t convinced. “I’ll wait a little longer,” she said, “Maybe he’ll come. He doesn’t usually have a nap.” After several minutes though, he still hadn’t come, so I lowered her to the ground.
The girl in the tree was three-year-old Maddie. Booboo was her pet caterpillar – a little green caterpillar she’d found on the front steps one day. Fortunately, there are lots of green caterpillars on our yard these days, and all of them pass for Booboo, so it’s not hard to find him when she wants to play. She picks him up and carries him around the yard. He arches his slim back, clutches her skin with tiny suction-cup feet, and explores the architecture of her arm.
Her older sisters look at her with a mixture of respect and disgust. She offers to let them hold her pet, but they hide their hands behind their backs and shake their heads.
After we left the tree behind, she was soon distracted by backyard swings and rubber balls. I returned to my task of washing the car in the driveway.
Before long, I heard her calling me excitedly. “Mommy, MOMMY! I FOUND BOOBOO!” She was jumping up and down beneath the branch where he was hanging by an invisible thread. “He’s swingin’!” She put her hand out, and Booboo lowered herself into it. “He came to see me AFTER all!”
Proudly, she carried her pet over to me. “Look Mom. Here he is! He wants to watch you clean the car.” Gingerly, she put him down on the ground close to the car door. I sprayed the car window with Windex and tried to step around Booboo as I finished my job.
As three-year-olds do, she disappeared, caught up in some other wonder. But she didn’t forget Booboo. A few minutes later, she called from the steps. “Is Booboo still there?”
I looked down at the ground to a horrifying sight. There lay the body of Booboo, crushed beyond recognition. Carelessly, I’d ended his short life under my the heel of my shoe. Quickly, I brushed his body out of sight before Maddie arrived at my side. “Nope,” I said, “he crawled away. I think he went looking for adventure.” My response satisfied her and she skipped away. Before long, she found Booboo on the other side of the yard. “How’d you get way over here?” she asked her wiggly friend.
So, I ask you, my friends… was I WRONG to tell a little white lie to my three year old daughter? Did she really need to see the broken body of her friend? I think not! I suppose I have a lie AND a murder on my conscience, but that’s still better than breaking her heart.
by Heather Plett | Jun 30, 2005 | Uncategorized
I got a little choked up when I read the link that Anvilcloud sent us to – where Real Live Preacher had written about the death of a premature baby. It sent me back to the time when I said good-bye to my own son. In memory of Matthew, here’s a poem I wrote shortly after we lost him. Matthew, I still remember you.
Still
When I no longer move in your womb
And my heart stops beating with yours
Please remember me
When I’ve long since left you
With nothing to hold onto
And no-one to smother with kisses
Please remember me
When you’ve packed away
My never-worn clothes
And the crib with no imprint of me
Please remember me
When my sisters have grown
Past bunkbeds and barbie dolls
And I’m still your forever infant
Please remember me
When the world no longer knows that I was
And those who do call me “fetus”
Please remember me
by Heather Plett | Jun 29, 2005 | Uncategorized
Wasn’t he a cutie?
by Heather Plett | Jun 28, 2005 | Uncategorized
Don’t ya just love it when random conversations pop out of nowhere and surprise you with their depth and inspiration? Like when you sit next to someone on the bus, expecting to stare out the window all the way home, and instead you find yourself engaged in a mind-blowing conversation about kids and doubts and homosexuality and church and sin? Or when you sit next to another mother at the soccer field, and before you know it you’re both admitting how much it scares the shit out of you to be a parent?
I had one of those conversations last night. After the kids were in bed, I escaped to the bookstore for some inspiration. That’s my favourite place to go for inspiration – but usually I get it from books, not people. I’ve been struggling with this major writing project at work, and it just WASN’T coming together, so I went looking for a bit of comfort or solace or whatever. I was trying to write something about “breaking bread” (for a magazine I’m producing) – how, by sharing our resources and getting involved in people’s lives, we can extend our community beyond our borders and “break bread” with the global community.
I curled up in one of the big comfy chairs with a stack of books on my lap. Unfortunately, none of them offered me what I was looking for. Little did I know that inspiration was waiting for me – not between the pages of a book, but in the conversation with a stranger.
A young woman in the chair next to me saw that I’d been perusing through the religion/spirituality section. Her opening comment was “What I want to know is what’s the difference between Judaism and Christianity?” Normally, in a bookstore, with limited time for my most precious pastime – perusing books, I don’t welcome conversation. But this time, since the books weren’t giving me what I was looking for, I put them down, and turned my full attention to her. “Well,” I said, “I’m not an expert in religions, but I think the essential difference is that Christianity, though based in Judaism, accepted Jesus as their messiah.”
It turns out she’s a young Jewish woman who feels torn between her old traditions and an attraction to the freedom that she sees in the New Testament – the grace that overcomes the law. She’s marrying an orthodox Jew with a long list of “Thou shalt nots” and she’s struggling with how much of it she accepts. She thinks the Messiah can offer her freedom from that. At the same time, she’s seen too many Christians who think they’re better than everyone else because their religion is “superior”.
What an interesting conversation we had! What a wise young woman! She had some unique insights into the New Testament, because she’d read it in Hebrew and in English and had tried to understand the differences she found between the two languages. Like the interpretation of the passage that refers to us being called to be perfect (Matthew 5:48 – “be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect”)… she said that in Hebrew it means something more like called to growth.
At the end of the conversation, when the bookstore closed, I slipped her my business card. I’m not sure why, or whether she’ll contact me, but it just seemed like such a pleasant moment I didn’t want to end it without the possibility we could continue the conversation. I think I’d like to hear more about this young woman’s journey. Her approach to faith was refreshing and hopeful. She said that, though her mother had raised her in the Jewish tradition, she felt that in some ways, she’d been paving the way for her to come to the Messiah.
At the end of my last post I asked for wise questions. I got some last night. And though we didn’t “break bread” last night, it helped inspire me this morning as I wrote (and FINISHED! YAY!) my project. After all, breaking bread is about breaking down the barriers, isn’t it?
by Heather Plett | Jun 27, 2005 | Uncategorized
No, I’m kidding. Don’t call me that.
But it’s true, I am an elder now. I answered the questions correctly – “yes, with God helping me”, so they let me in. I had my feet washed by the pastor (a nice touch, I might add, though I wish I could have washed HIS feet too). I knelt on the floor, the current elders prayed for me, and I was commissioned.
If you think that makes me old and wise and beyond reproach and spiritually mature, then you would be WRONG on all counts. I’m none of those things. I’m weak and foolish and I have a faltering faith. I gossip too much, I’m slothful, I’m impatient, I struggle with arrogance… I have a long list of undesirable qualities that I won’t expound on in too much detail, lest you think less of me (yes, I’m insecure and proud too.) But despite all these things, for reasons I’m not sure I understand, people in our church seem to think I have the right giftedness to serve them as elder. I hope they’re right.
You could say that, for the most part, I’m working out my faith with “fear and trembling”. I don’t have very many answers – in fact I have way less now than I used to. The older I get (or should I say the “elder” I get :-), the more the questions outnumber the answers.
My friend Jo said this “I’m glad you’re an elder because I know that you understand people like me, people who have trouble with faith.” It is for people like Jo that I will be faithful as an elder. For that reason, it was worth accepting the challenge, as much as it still gnaws at my belly somewhat. As much as I can, I will continue to offer a safe place for people with questions. I will try to reserve judgement, and have an open mind and an open heart. I will try to serve in a way that honours people and honours God (or at least the God of my understanding – that’s the best I can offer, because my understanding is limited).
Don’t come to me for wise answers. But if you have wise questions, I’d be happy to listen.
by Heather Plett | Jun 24, 2005 | Uncategorized
I finally figured out the identity of the mystery person in the airport! Yay! I’m so happy! She came to our church for awhile (haven’t seen her lately). I didn’t talk to her much, but she looks like an interesting person. I think her name is Mary, but I could be wrong.
Now I can finally sleep at night! I hope she figured it out too, ’cause I’d hate for her to be losing sleep over it!
