I'll spare you--and me--the excuses for my lack of writing. It's been a busy year and it wasn't at the top of the priority list. But I miss it! I really, really do. I'd like to trim a few other things out of the schedule and keep the blogging. (Can I start with giving up laundry or cleaning the toilet? Or unpacking?)
God helped in a wonderful way at IHC this week. If you had told me a week ago that we would survive it this year, I would have laughed at you. Or more likely, I would have cried. That's what I was doing in an Indy dressing room not too many days ago, because I was completely overwhelmed. There was too much to do, and not enough hours in which to do it.
Somehow, all of it came together, hilariously and imperfectly, but beautifully. Old friends and new ones stepped to help with the sound system and crowd control, taking pictures and teaching the Scripture. People sent gifts to help with expenses, and loaned us supplies; strangers encouraged us and little people loved us. I even managed to play on the platform and LIVE! :)
The kids were amazing, and funny, and sometimes effervescent. In case you're not familiar with it, effervescent is an old Indian word for "who gave that boy Skittles and a Redbull?", which is similar to scintillating, which is another old Indian word, for "that little girl has gone to the bathroom 7 times in the past hour. Should I be worried or jealous? I've had to go potty for 3.5 hours."
Our boys were a huge help, and I am very proud of them. Of course, I think the annual IHC picture may feature a photobomb from a boy in a horse costume, but they are Gene's children, after all.
We got no exercise at all, unless you count that I got into my control top hosiery every morning without help. And we ate so much junk food that my feet look like marshmallows and I really, really need those control top pantyhose now...
The sermons--oh, the sermons and the music this year were worth any amount of weariness. I dragged myself to every evening service wondering why I was there, and left feeling like God had meant some part of it for me. Every. Single. Night. (Except for a few brief moments when I was asleep in church; I am hoping they were not captured by the livestream cameras...)
And then it was over and I didn't really want to go home. I whined my way through the cleanup of the Children's Chapel and wished it could last a little longer and I could visit with a few hundred more people. I would probably have lingered and savored the glow, but life has a way of providing special little reality checks.
Gathering up the last armload of our supplies, I came within feet of exiting the chapel before I noticed a breeze and realized that a good portion of my skirt was wadded up with all the costumes I was carrying! If I had waddled out like that, it would have been our last trip to IHC ever. We would have had to change our names and move away...
That was it: a sign from God that it was time to go home. And so we did... :)
