The Keeper of the Stories (A Mom’s Honored Trust)

“Okay, so aiding and abetting in a homicide…” The voices catch my attention and I look up.

Three twenty-something adults crowd into a grey cubical booth with laptops and notebooks. They pull books closer, laugh, and ask another question.

“So, felony murder is when you…”

Photo Susan Holt Simpson, Unsplash

These three are either planning an atrocious weekend or studying for an upcoming criminal justice exam. They chuckle while throwing out legal terms, so I assume the latter.

Photo by Daniel on Unsplash

Voices hum, music sambas, and crushed ice tinkles in my sparkling peach blossom iced tea.

At another table near me, a couple works with someone on their wedding ceremony, discussing wireless microphones and officiants.

An espresso machine bursts into grinding coffee beans.

This Tuesday evening haunt of mine isn’t far from my seventeen year old son Daniel’s city job, and I love this rhythm we’ve fallen into over the year.

Spring’s verdant vitality looks like violet iris buds unfurling after two days of rain, and grassy lawns now all bright emerald.  Cherry and crab apple trees unfold fragrant flowers in pastel pinks, magentas, and snowy white. Maple trees drop red crumbs off new leaf buds or hang frilly lime green shoots.

This is my first Tuesday without a message to study for and prepare, and it feels like a new season of life. I’ve loved my year of studying the whole Bible in thirty-two weeks of Cover to Cover Bible Study each Monday night, as well as a slow-dive through the book of Exodus each Sunday morning. After a week of having to process my emotions from the end of those great times of community, conversation, and study, knowing I’ll miss the people each week, my focus then changes, and my emotions pivot too. Spring and summer are times when I get to dig into other projects as well, and I love that also!

I’ve eagerly grabbed up Natalie Goldman’s writing book, Writing Down the Bones, snatching moments to read in office or doctor lobbies, while rain slides down window panes. I’m excited to write again. I’ve missed it, and Goldman’s book stirs joy and urging within me, calling me to put pen to paper more consistently again.

“Blogging looks differently these years,” I’ve noted, telling my daughter, my mom, and a friend in a rumbly bus. “In the past, it was so easy to simply write the stories of our life, describing daily conversations and family interactions, but now as my kids are older, I want to hold their stories and lives in careful hands.”

“It’s such a privilege to hear their thoughts, and learn about their lives, and I want to guard this privilege… not sharing their hearts or feelings to the world.”

Photo Immo Wegmann, Unsplash

I admit, I’ve been puzzled on how to move into this new season of blogging, so accustomed to simply peeling back the curtain of our lives, to tell about what I know, what I’m learning through family interactions. And that can still continue, but it looks differently, I’m discovering.

I’m holding in privileged hands the trust and words of my kids. They’re no longer a little blonde toddler on a tricycle, lisping sweet phrases, nor are my older ones the young long-legged homeschoolers walking out the planets’ paths with me, or studying the guts of an atom.

Now my seventeen year old, my 27 year old, and 31 year olds plop onto my black couch, their faces lighting up in happy joy at some conversations, or pensive about others, and I am so honored to listen, to be brought into their lives and hearts.

Photo Iza Gawrych, Unsplash

My blogging word are fewer as I navigate this new space, but I’m so thrilled and honored to be the Keeper of the Stories, this privileged Mom-role.

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Jennifer speaks often at conferences, churches, retreats, MOMCo/MOPS/MomsNext groups,  camps, home school co-ops and more. She loves getting to know people and making new friends.