"How do I begin to lay down my own master narrative, which I'm fiercely committed to, and pick up the threads of another narrative, and just help out in whatever way I can? Is that what mercy looks like?"
Just the other day, my mother was watching our life from the kitchen table and she mused, "There is always a sub-plot going on around here." Now, this related to the enthusiastic help offered when I asked for a volunteer to get the Christmas boxes. This required going into the attic, which is the picture of excitement for my children. If I could have them wash dishes, muck out the chicken coop, or clean up their messes IN THE ATTIC, all would be enthusiasm around here.
Since then, the idea of sub-plot has been growing in my mind, especially as it relates to raising children. We (the parents) have a vision for our family that includes the influences we bring in through books and movies and people and experiences, plus the commitments that our family makes with our time, money and energy. But, children develop their own ideas of books, events, and commitments that are worthwhile. I think a part of the challenge in parenting is figuring out when our family story requires the main plot, and when the weaving of a sub-plot will bring a richness to the narrative. The family chronicle, to reach its intended richness, must include all the individual stories that are being told within it.
Megan's reflections gave new language to my thoughts. How often have I set aside my master narrative for life, in order to do the work that was right to do? There are other arenas than home and family that would have been a more natural environment for me. But, the story of my life has become a vibrant narrative; the Author of my life is weaving a sub-plot that keeps the story alive.
On a lighter note:
Rivendell Press
The History of Coffee
1453: Coffee is introduced to Constantinople by Ottoman Turks. The world's first coffee shop, Kiva Han, opens there in 1475. Turkish law makes it legal for a woman to divorce her husband if he fails to provide her with her daily quota of coffee.
1732: Johann Sevastian Bach composes his Kaffee-Kantate. Partly an ode to coffee and partly a stab at the movement in Germany to prevent women from drinking coffee (it was thought to make them sterile)the cantata includes the aria, "Ah! How sweet coffee taste! Lovelier than a thousand kisses, sweeter far than muscatel wine! I must have my coffee."
I have loved coffee since my first set of mid-terms in college. My family drank it black, so I never understood the little creamer and sugar thingees that were brought to the table. Back in the days when grounds were the only purchasing option, I found Medaglio D'Oro, the espresso grounds that made a Real Cup Of Coffee. A friend named my coffee D.G. coffee (my maiden-name initials), and it was always said with a bit of awe (or was it fear? or disgust?) Well, it was t-h-i-c-k. My husband's nickname is Latte Man. When my children were little we taught them: "What does a cat say?" "Meow." "What does a dog say?" "Woof." "What does a coffee grinder say?" "Grrrrrrrrrrrr." It's just part of the family.
Now, divorce is no laughing matter, but the Turkish law made me laugh out loud. My husband only travels one week a year, and it is an annual shock to my system to realize that there is no french roast under my nose. A cup of coffee, hand-delivered by a fine man, is my idea of an alarm clock.
Mental Multivitamin
"Knowing them makes me want to be the best possible version of me. Even when it means staying up past my bedtime and feeling fuzzy in the morning."
My children inspire me in the same way.
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