Everyday communion

For the second time in less than a week we have a small child in our house.  This time, it is an infant, though the child  earlier in the week was five.  Though, I don't consider myself a "kid" person (I know, kind of ironic, I have a blog called "5 Million Kids", what does a kid person call his blog, 5 Infinity Kids) I really enjoyed it.  I should also note, it might be slightly creepy if I did label myself a "kid person". 

I feel as though the two kids are on both sides of the spectrum.  The five year old was like a combustible engine.  From the moment she awoke (between 3:30 and 4:40 AM because she just got back from Germany) she was exploding with energy.  She did nothing half heartedly or timidly.  In the four days she was here, she wore out three pairs of shoes.  This was fine, because she was incredibly adorable and endearing.  There was only one twenty minute period where I thought, maybe we don't want kids, maybe we should just send all the money that was donated back with a nice note.  The child with us tonight is the opposite.  She is a beautiful one month old infant.  She is a sleeping, fart machine.  I got permission from the mother to call her this, so wipe that look off your face.   

Our house has been very full as of lately though, and we love it.  When we don't have guests, we work late  and we burn the candle on both ends.  With guests in our house, we are "forced" to come home, eat together, talk and nurture community.  My friend Adam pointed out something interesting to me when he was with us this summer.  Whenever there is a scene in a movie that involves people eating together, there is an underlying communion theme.  This is not necessarily a biblical communion (unless of course you are watching the Passion of the Christ, Jesus of Nazareth, The Last Temptation of Christ or Jesus Christ Superstar) but there is that essence of people coming together, or falling apart.  It is a turning point in a story, when characters motives, intentions and dreams are brought to light. 

I see this true, when we share meals with friends.  Just the other day we were having a Thanksgiving meal with our small group when my "friend" Aaaron (pseudonym) tried slipping arsenic in my wine.  And then Geff (also pseudonym) announced that he was going to fight the "commies" in Vietnam (prompting Geff's dad to slam his cup down (spilling my wine) and storm out of the room).   Aaaron, was visibly upset.  But really, I see some of the best conversations come out over a meal, or as my friend Adam P. says, over the French press.

All this being said, I need to point out that I decided to leave the dinner table and my three female dining companions tonight to write this blog when the conversation veered towards embarrassing "period stories".