At Caleb's 18 month well-baby check-up, his pediatrician asked me to guess how many words he knows. Maybe I wrote about this already? I guessed 15. Thinking about it later, I was definitely low, but either way, she assured me that by Caleb's behavior in the visit, he was on the verge of a vocabulary explosion.
And man, was she right!!
Last night Brian and I lay in bed and tried to count how many words Caleb says.
Rice
Read
Moon
Airplane, Acorn, Abby (they sound exactly the same, so you have to use context clues.)
Truck
Bus
Swing
Outside!
Football, touchdown, tackle, BOOM!
Watch
Ohio
And many, many more. (More??) It blows our mind everyday. He know all the major body parts, and is starting on what I might consider "advanced:" cheeks, elbow. He counts to five. He knows all our extended family's names. Animal sounds are out of this world.
His teachers are teaching him Spanish, and report that he has a very high interest in both English and Spanish vocabulary. Right now his most common spanish words are Rana (frog) and Cuatro (four).
We were well above fifty when we stopped counting.
I'm sure every parent lays awake, in awe of their kid's learning skills. We watched Caleb turn on the tv by himself yesterday morning. He asked for football.
I'm not sure if all kids are like this, but Caleb just loves to try on new words. He repeats everything. It's such a privilege to walk along side him, and guide him, as he continues to grow up and learn new skills.
Friday, September 25, 2015
Sunday, September 20, 2015
Doing a New Thing
Well I certainly didn't mean to be away this long. I was homesick, then I ate a ton of Swedish pancakes, the weather changed, and I went off to seminary in Ohio.
One of those things is not like the other, right?
I started Seminary this past week. We kicked off with a bang, a mess of first year students ranging from their mid-twenties to...fifties? sixties? I think we all arrived with our doubts, our unknowns, our uncertainty. We were told we had responded to an invitation from God, like God had sent us a vellum backed invitation via white dove:
God, the Son and the Holy Spirit cordially invites you to:
A New Life
September 14, 2015
8am
Christ UMC
Please RSVP (yes)
Can't you just see it with a olive branch motif around the edges?
We were told we had been split into groups that would be diverse. I found myself the youngest in my group by 14 years. The only person not licensed for ministry, not pastoring a church. The only white girl. I called Brian halfway through the first day, on the verge of tears. "I feel like I have nothing to contribute," I told him. He talked me down, assuring me that my age and experience were an illusion- I still had graces from God that would be a gift to the group. I presented the prework I had done to my group that afternoon: an oral telling of a spiritually significant event. I, of course, had written mine out in its entirety, like a manuscript preacher would. I didn't want to forget an important point. I didn't want to mess up my words. I didn't want to look stupid and inexperienced. I won't lie: I worked really hard, for weeks, on this piece of writing and storytelling.
When the woman sitting to my left invited me to share, I pulled out my papers and slowly found my voice. I had read this out loud before, practicing in the car. I tried to think of it as a gift to my group members: I was letting them in on a really rough point in my life, and they would know me and my story better after hearing it. I was only person reading fully from a manuscript, and I tried not to let that affect me. The assignment had clearly stated we could bring notes, and I had read the assignment probably 20 times. (I had also read all the books for this class ahead of time, but that's neither here nor there.) I summoned all twenty years of acting experience and told my story.
I won't go into a "humblebrag." I'll state a full on brag: I received praise. I was told I had a gift for writing, and storytelling. For preaching. I haven't received affirmation like that since college- I felt like I was absolutely in my right place. My group leaders and members prayed over me, thanking God for my presence with them, affirming my call to ministry, asking God to remove obstacles from path, lifting me up as a beloved daughter of God.
The entire week was one affirming moment after another. I met my two professors for my online classes. I heard inspiring preaching. I was anointed. I saw God's plan unfold for something I had been worried about. I spent most of the morning worship service on the second day in tears, singing "Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul," knowing that this was right move for me. Seminary, United, my call to be a leader, to speak God's Holy word, learning to bless the Lord.
I did a fair amount of note-taking that week, so I won't go into it all here, but I wanted to capture what the first week of seminary felt like, when I feel like I'm lost and drowning. The closer I got to leaving for Ohio, the more my excitement to start school ebbed. I had some issues at work concerning school and I began to think this had been a terrible, horrible idea. What if I couldn't handle the workload, and my family suffered? What if I put our family in debt for nothing? How would I tell my colleagues I was not called to ministry, it had been a mistake.
I thought, perhaps, I should just take up quilting, instead of the immense undertaking of graduate school.
In the denomination I grew up in, we call that nasty voice "mortal mind." Some call it the devil, the tempter, the evil. In truth, it was nothing but mortal mind asking me to take up quilting instead of ministry. God's voice was so loud last week, drowning out the doubts and concerns. I didn't realize how desperately I needed last week until I stood in that church feeling the Christ, the Holy Spirit, there with us, blessing each of us as we claimed our place as leaders in the Kingdom.
Bless the Lord, oh my Soul...There's a new day dawning...
One of those things is not like the other, right?
I started Seminary this past week. We kicked off with a bang, a mess of first year students ranging from their mid-twenties to...fifties? sixties? I think we all arrived with our doubts, our unknowns, our uncertainty. We were told we had responded to an invitation from God, like God had sent us a vellum backed invitation via white dove:
God, the Son and the Holy Spirit cordially invites you to:
A New Life
September 14, 2015
8am
Christ UMC
Please RSVP (yes)
Can't you just see it with a olive branch motif around the edges?
We were told we had been split into groups that would be diverse. I found myself the youngest in my group by 14 years. The only person not licensed for ministry, not pastoring a church. The only white girl. I called Brian halfway through the first day, on the verge of tears. "I feel like I have nothing to contribute," I told him. He talked me down, assuring me that my age and experience were an illusion- I still had graces from God that would be a gift to the group. I presented the prework I had done to my group that afternoon: an oral telling of a spiritually significant event. I, of course, had written mine out in its entirety, like a manuscript preacher would. I didn't want to forget an important point. I didn't want to mess up my words. I didn't want to look stupid and inexperienced. I won't lie: I worked really hard, for weeks, on this piece of writing and storytelling.
When the woman sitting to my left invited me to share, I pulled out my papers and slowly found my voice. I had read this out loud before, practicing in the car. I tried to think of it as a gift to my group members: I was letting them in on a really rough point in my life, and they would know me and my story better after hearing it. I was only person reading fully from a manuscript, and I tried not to let that affect me. The assignment had clearly stated we could bring notes, and I had read the assignment probably 20 times. (I had also read all the books for this class ahead of time, but that's neither here nor there.) I summoned all twenty years of acting experience and told my story.
I won't go into a "humblebrag." I'll state a full on brag: I received praise. I was told I had a gift for writing, and storytelling. For preaching. I haven't received affirmation like that since college- I felt like I was absolutely in my right place. My group leaders and members prayed over me, thanking God for my presence with them, affirming my call to ministry, asking God to remove obstacles from path, lifting me up as a beloved daughter of God.
The entire week was one affirming moment after another. I met my two professors for my online classes. I heard inspiring preaching. I was anointed. I saw God's plan unfold for something I had been worried about. I spent most of the morning worship service on the second day in tears, singing "Bless the Lord, Oh my Soul," knowing that this was right move for me. Seminary, United, my call to be a leader, to speak God's Holy word, learning to bless the Lord.
I did a fair amount of note-taking that week, so I won't go into it all here, but I wanted to capture what the first week of seminary felt like, when I feel like I'm lost and drowning. The closer I got to leaving for Ohio, the more my excitement to start school ebbed. I had some issues at work concerning school and I began to think this had been a terrible, horrible idea. What if I couldn't handle the workload, and my family suffered? What if I put our family in debt for nothing? How would I tell my colleagues I was not called to ministry, it had been a mistake.
I thought, perhaps, I should just take up quilting, instead of the immense undertaking of graduate school.
In the denomination I grew up in, we call that nasty voice "mortal mind." Some call it the devil, the tempter, the evil. In truth, it was nothing but mortal mind asking me to take up quilting instead of ministry. God's voice was so loud last week, drowning out the doubts and concerns. I didn't realize how desperately I needed last week until I stood in that church feeling the Christ, the Holy Spirit, there with us, blessing each of us as we claimed our place as leaders in the Kingdom.
Bless the Lord, oh my Soul...There's a new day dawning...
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