wet and soggy

This morning while I was in the shower, Elsie was brushing her teeth. And then she said, "uh oh mama, I'm all wet." So I pulled back the shower curtain and saw that she was indeed getting all wet. Because she had plugged the sink, had it running and had flooded the countertop so badly that water was spilling over the front like a waterfall. I didn't even stop the shower, lept for the sink, turned it off, unplugged the drain and used my bath towel to direct the water on the counter back into the sink while pushing the pile of clothes on the floor over to soak up more of the water on the floor.

All the while Elsie was crying that I was getting her wet with my wet hair, standing over her step-stool as I cleaned up her mess.

We went to women's Bible study this morning in an absolute frenzy. When we got there the kids told me they were thirsty and I told them they had to be very careful with their little cups of water. But moments later it was I who knocked the water on the floor. And again I was down on my knees, cleaning up the second wet mess of the day. I commented to a friend that it felt like a day of baptisms for me. Water everywhere.

I raced the kids home after Bible study to get my clothes for the funeral. I didn't even let them out of their car seats. I packed them up for an afternoon an Auntie Lisa's and hit the road. And when we got there it was pouring rain. But I hadn't brought coats because it wasn't raining when we left. And I surely didn't have an umbrella.

I got ready at Lisa's and she let me borrow her umbrella. It was as I drove to Target, with the windshield wipers on full speed that I told God this water theme wasn't lost on me.

I went to the funeral and cried a whole lot of tears. Mama J's ashes were set upon the baptismal font and the pastor began the service by reciting Romans 6, "When we were baptized into Christ Jesus, we were baptized into his death. We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might live a new life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his." 

Baptismal water.

The service was lovely. A lot was said of Linda's love of boating and even a fishing trip story was told. I went up to read the scripture Linda had chosen for me to read and fell to pieces. I was totally caught off guard that I struggled so badly. But it was a funeral, and people do cry at funerals...

I drove home in the rain and ran into the house where Rory was boiling some hot water for our first night of small group. Minutes later our house was full of new and familiar faces, all ready to pour over the story of Noah.

You can't make this stuff up, folks.

And even as I sit here, the best word to describe my mood is soggy. My eyes are puffy. I'm thirsty and tired. I feel tired in my bones and sad in my heart. And I'm holding onto that baptismal promise with all my heart, believing that Linda is resurrected with her Maker, and that one day we who know and love Christ Jesus, will join her too.