These Days: Kaiti Lammert

These days I read a lot less theology books

And a lot more bedtime stories

There’s a kind of theology to that

These days I’m sounding a lot less eloquent

And a lot more kind

There’s a lot to say about that

These days I’m a lot less sure about anything

And a lot more sure love conquers all

There’s a kind of assurance in that

These days I tell a lot less people about Jesus

And follow him a lot better I think

There’s a kind of preaching in that

These days I’m a lot less put together

And a lot less insecure

About needing, asking, receiving help

There’s a kind of maturity about that

These days I’m less attracted to popularity, good looks, and money

And see beauty more in the homeless man at my local park

There’s a kind of vision in that

These days I worry little about stranger danger

And smile when my daughter runs to give that same homeless friend a hug

I hand him a birth announcement addressed just for him

There’s a kind of mission in that

These days I post far less of my opinions

And listen to a lot more voices of different looking friends

And I believe them

There’s a kind of justice in that

These days I’m less proud to be a Christian

And more humbled to be a child

There’s a kind of identity to that

These days I kiss a lot of boo-boos

And clean up a lot of crap

And I fade into an obscurity mothers know

There’s a type of crucifixion in that

These days I get lost in being the best mom I can be

And spend way less time thinking about me

There’s a kind of sainthood in that

These days I smile more

And care little for the wrinkles forming

I touch the bugs and wipe the snot and apologize a lot

I ask two-year-olds and God for forgiveness

And experience a lot more grace

There’s a kind of redemption in that

These days I spend less time wondering about heaven

And a lot more time living it

There’s a kind of eternity in that

The WesleyJune 9, 2021