Laurel Elisabeth Stevens

I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. . .We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Romans 8:18, 22-24 Late teenage years— I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, my hand fidgeting with the blue bedspread bedecked with peach and pink flowers. My mom sits at the foot of the bed. I'm puzzling over this passage from the book of Romans that I'm sure I've read before, but is suddenly vivid. Life has gotten scarier. My older brother Tim is down the hall at the other end of the house, his arm in a cast and other bones still healing—his pelvis among them. He'd done something stupid—aided by alcohol, the urging of friends, and his own ri...

I began Advent with many ideas of how we, as a family, would prepare for Christ’s coming, and some of them we carried through with.  Some of them we didn’t.  It was halfway through week 2 of Advent that I made an Advent wreath and we began lighting candles, but I never did get the traditional purple candles, and I’m finding that white looks rather like Easter.  The stories for the Jesse tree are read about every other day, and thoughts of, “Have I gotten all the right gifts?” too often clutter my mind in unproductive wanderings. There have been surprises though.  In working on the two previous posts I listened to many renditions of anthems, once again immersing myself in the story of the lyrics as well as the beauty of the music.  Elisabeth’s piano playing continues to delight me, and my mom has been playing as well—“What Child is This” and “Lo, How a Rose.”  Henry was in his room singing “O Holy Night” making up words to the parts he didn't know....

A week ago a new nephew entered our family.  His name is Charlie and he came one week early.  Nevertheless, it was a long wait.  After my sister-in-law had been in labor for nearly ten hours, the action pretty much stopped.  My brother texted me: “We’re kind of bored.”  I chuckled, and hoped he didn’t think I was condescending when I texted back, “Sleep now while you can.”  Waiting is hard. About ten years ago John and I were trying to sell a house and buy one in The Woodlands and I was always up and down with the good news-bad news of having a house on the market.  My dear husband tried to lighten my mood by quoting a line from The Simpsons one night: “Now we play the waiting game!” and answering himself with Homer’s line, “Awww, I wanna play Hungry, Hungry Hippos.”  So on a whim one night in a hotel we bought the game and probably caused no little annoyance to our neighbors as we drank glasses of wine and played that crazy noisy game....

Last Saturday it was time to take down the tree.  I was ready for it to be gone--the needles were beginning to drop and there were spider webs from the top of the tree to the ceiling.  Maybe those are always there, but this time I could actually see them close up because the tree was nestled against the stairs and the top was clearly visible from the second floor. Three Kings Day . . .Epiphany . . .Heilige Drei Könige had come and gone.   John and I pulled the boxes down from the attic and the kids began removing the ornaments from the tree.  But this time I wanted to pack them more carefully than usual because they would be traveling across the ocean again.  And that made me sad.   I thought of Christmas two years ago when we were still in The Woodlands and oblivious to the upcoming move.  I packed the ornaments up quickly and we shoved them in the back of our “closet of doom”--the one you can’t stand up in and goes way, way back....

Yesterday on the way home from Kindergarten Henry cheerfully told me, “Mama, I got to eat in the kitchen and do Tisch Dienst.”   I thought I was Mommy. What is Tisch Dienst? This happens more and more often as our son is immersed in Kindergarten five days a week and I can’t help but think it is cute.  However, being the educator that I am, I usually repeat things back the proper way.  This time first I had to ask what Tisch dienst was.  It means setting the table--literally “Table Service.”  I asked him to tell me what he had to do to set the table and I was hoping he would tell me all the utensils in German, but amazingly his mind made the switch and it came out easily in English.  And so very cutely.  I’m rather enamored by my son lately.  Here’s one of my favorites: “Today Emil was before lunch abgeholt.” In German if you have a verb with 2 parts--here it is past tense--the second verb is always the last word of the sentence...

Our hearts have been stretched, we recently found out, but it happened slowly.   Poverty, food shortage, contaminated water, starvation--these words bring images to my mind of children with bulging bellies and scarred skin.  They were problems a million miles away that I thought could do nothing about, so I put up a mental wall of protection.  If I saw pictures or heard pleas for help, I would ignore them, thinking it was too big of a problem for me to deal with, or I justified my inaction with the idea that the funds were most likely not going to get to those who needed the help, and even if they did, it would be a drop in a bucket.  I had heard for years about “sponsoring a child” from Africa or India or the like.  It never moved me. When I was 33 and our daughter was almost two years old, I suffered a miscarriage of twins.  At the time it was the most devastating event of my life.  My husband and I mourned their loss and couldn’t help bu...

Henry woke up early on St. Nicholas' Day.  John was upstairs so he was the one to talk with Henry and send him back to bed, as it was not yet 6:30 AM wake up time.   “Daddy, I had a bad dream.” “Aww, did you?” “Yes.  Daddy, is St. Nikolaus dead?” John answered that yes, he is dead. “Oh.  Then who will put something in my boot?”  he asked worriedly. “Well, who else loves you?” With a bright smile, “Mommy and Daddy!” Then he went back to bed.  John related the story to me before Henry got up again, and I was relieved that all our uncertainties of the night before were resolved.  I guess I imagined that since he knew we loved him, he knew we had filled his boot. Elisabeth was not such an early riser as Henry, but nor was Henry overly anxious to check his boot.  I had to remind him that it was available.  I managed to have him and Elisabeth get dressed before they went downstairs--it was still a school morning after all....