“I’m sorry he was so loud during the sermon,” said the mother of an eight-week-old baby.
“Was he? I really didn’t notice,” I assured her. “I’ve been a mother as long as I’ve been a pastor, so I’m just really used to that sound during worship.”
And it’s true. Zoe was born June 26th, 2009, and I was ordained to the ministry of word and sacrament on August 29th, 2009.
The two months in between? I had a new baby, a job interview, and a very, very full two-bedroom apartment to pack up. That time is kind of a blur.
Motherhood and pastorhood are really intertwined for me. My ordination day memories include breastfeeding my daughter at the celebratory meal after the service, my clerical collar still around my neck. My friend Carrie made a special pair of red booties for Zoe to wear, so both of us had liturgically appropriate footwear for the day.
Those little feet, quite a bit larger now, have walked alongside me in these three years of ordained ministry. I can’t believe it’s been three years of mothering and pastoring. What a blessing. What a gift.
My two very best partners in ministry.
P.S. Obviously, Mike has walked alongside me for the past three years, too, and for the three years of marriage before that. I thank God for him, even though he didn’t join me and Zoe in wearing red shoes three years ago.
This weekend found me hunting for clothes pins and gourds in a corn maze by flashlight, attempting to teach fourth graders about the Bible, screaming like a girl in the haunted house in the church basement, celebrating Zoe’s baptismal birthday some more, and wearing my Very Favorite Ordination / Reformation / Pentecost Shoes through two worship services and a potluck dinner. No wonder I’m moving even more slowly than usual this Monday morning. I mean: Monday afternoon (see what I’m saying?).
Zoe was also moving slowly this morning, in the sense that running around the house while your mother attempts to feed and dress you is “slow”. But: she was beyond thrilled to don her beloved bumble bee costume. So much so that she resisted other parts of the outfit, like pants. (Pro tip: call them “bumblebee pants” and you are good to go.)
She perched adorably on her Big Wheel tricycle, but of course I couldn’t find the camera. So, here are a few photos of her outside of day care, where I tried to make her pose after we picked up the camera from Grandma’s house (no wonder I couldn’t find that thing).
Waving bye bye to Daddy, who was waiting in the car. "He's not driving away!" she said, apparently disappointed that he was waiting for Mama.
More and better photos to follow, I hope. If we are very lucky, she may even keep the antenna on for more than three seconds in a row.