Sisters are especially good for this…

I appreciate those people in my life who help keep me honest.

I got home after a long day of meetings for Servant Partners, and after picking my kids up and making our way back home, I met up with a dear friend for some prayer time in preparation for her wedding. When I finally sat down at my computer to check email late this afternoon, I found an email from my sister waiting for me that totally made me laugh.

You see, I wrote here about the evening we spent at her house on Monday. I spoke of the peaceful dinner we enjoyed in her backyard, and I painted an idyllic picture of my children at play. Anna’s email reminded me of how the night actually looked for my family:

Hey hermana,
I logged onto your blog this afternoon at a point when I just needed a break from Engine House #18
[a grant proposal she is working on for our Community Development Corporation]. Can you guess my favorite parts…?

“Her yard felt like an oasis in the midst of all the sirens and commotion in the air and on our streets, and I was grateful for the feelings of peace we enjoyed there.”

So, the mental picture I have to go with this sentence is you and doug in folding chairs sitting next to mercy while she screamed through her timeout
[one of MANY that night, most of which involved a great deal of screaming].

“I was especially grateful watching Mercy and Aaron’s carefree play…”

…and now I’m seeing them run behind the barn [a storage shed that the kids call 'the barn' that they are NOT allowed to play behind]…oh, and Jordan and Mercy calling each other ‘stupid pirates.’

I don’t in any way question the truth of your account of the time, I’m just totally amused at what now passes as a peaceful, relaxing evening for us. =)

And the things is, her descriptions of the “peaceful evening” hardly do the true chaos and craziness of the night, and my children in particular, justice…

2 thoughts on “Sisters are especially good for this…”

  1. Just keep saying to yourself- They don’t drive, they don’t drive, they don’t drive. Oh yeah, she doesn’t date, she doesn’t date, she doesn’t date…

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