"Mommy read book?"

"Mommy read book?" she pleas as the climbs in bed to snuggle up for a nap. When Rachael was 11 months old, we made the family choice for me to become a stay-at-home mom. Abi, whom we had yet to know to be Abi, was on the way and my heart overflowed with the prospect of being there fully to raise our kids. I rearranged the kitchen, did some serious housecleaning to kick off the week and began a new tradition, reading before nap time.

I remember my mom reading the Lord of the Ring's series to us before bed, my sister and I fighting to stay awake longer to hear "just one more chapter." We were elementary aged and past the "little kid book" age. But I found such a joy in the stories coming to life in our minds - no need for pictures, we were each writing our own movie as the text filled our imaginations.

I began the Anne of Green Gables series when Rachael was 11 months old. I still remember the joy of feeling her little body drift into sleep amid turning the pages and rocking. And it's so precious to me to think that ever since Abi could hear from the womb she has drifted to sleep amid a story. I remember feeling Abi get heavier inside me as she neared her ripeness toward the end of Rachael's lap-rocking days. When Abi joined us on this side of the womb, Rachael would fall asleep in her bed and I would rock Abi while sifting through the Chronicles of Narnia series and a Karen Kingsbury novel (yes, Matt finally convinced me). There's something beautiful about knowing your kids are falling asleep to the soothing pattern and rhythm of your voice. And here we are today, with the Secret Garden.

Today we met Colin for the first time and a flood of a high school musical emerged in my mind. I love how a good book captures you as the scene is painted in your mind. But the scene coming to my mind was literally painted on sliding set pieces. I remembered try-outs with my sister, one of the first things I remember coming together to accomplish (due to high school falling at such a "sisters are uncool" age). My sister, an ever-so-old Junior, and then there was me, a little scared Freshman. My sister had the part of Lily in the bag, literally just waiting for the formalities of try-outs. But the part of Colin was up for grabs among all my friends. Whoever got the role of Colin would be immediately excommunicated from the group as the rest would probably be listed amongst the long list of "chorus" (hehe). My sis jumped into action, practicing and practicing with me. I remember thinking, "WOW! She knows me outside of the house too?!" (love ya, Jes.)

And then the call-backs list and the final posting sealed it all. I had my first lead in a musical, playing my sister's son. There was much make-up, ace bandages to make the illusion of a boy's chest appear, and a wig that took nearly 2 hours to put on my head (tucking my long hair beneath). But something magical came from singing "Come to my Garden" with my sister. I will never forget the excitement rush of hearing her beautiful voice cut through the fog (fog machined in) and pierce through the silence of the room. It was a moment. A moment indeed. And then that bridge... "I shall see you in my garden..." those tight harmonies. It was so neat. The show took on a life of it's own.

The lady on the recording has NOTHING on my sister. You should see Daddy's recording. =) But I do remember practicing to this version with my sister as we prepared for try-outs. It was just lovely. Lovely indeed.


Some pieces of the experiences God has given me are hard to convey. Rachael and Abi may never know the feeling of standing, or in my case laying on a bed (I was a crippled boy), and knowing that an audience of some hundred(s) of people are watching and yet feeling like no one else is there, but whomever is on stage. I hope Rachael and Abi get the chance to lose themselves in a musical number (not as in become loose morally here people). Just so much fun. So shaping and altering.

Funny how God has used some small-town moments to build up this stage-fright child within me. hehe.


Anyway... back to house chores.

- looking forward to tomorrow's nap-time reading.