Tuesdays, 10 a.m., my house.
Wear your sweaty exercise clothes or your swanky duds, by all means bring your nursing baby or your screaming toddler, come late or leave early and settle in for an hour of honest, passionate gospel discussion and tears.
I’ve hosted scripture group at my house since I moved in over 4 years ago. We use the LDS Institute manuals and take turns leading the discussion week after week. I suppose it’s much like a Bible group in other Christian churches, except, ya know, we have twice as much to study. 😉 Our group is decidedly unacademic (we just want to apply it to our lives) and word of mouth has granted us a diverse group of savvy, funny, truly incredible women, aged 18-72, whom I adore.
Children are decidedly welcome and many weeks I have 20 little people– all 5 or under– crawling, running and swinging through the house.
I love it. I love everything about it. Besides raising my children, scripture group is the coolest thing I do. You do realize you’re invited?
But I will admit that having a house ready for visitors by 10 a.m. every Tuesday is a Herculean task. Xander has a violin lesson on Tuesday mornings and the elementary kids are left unsupervised at home until they leave for school at 9. I don’t think you need six kids to appreciate the destruction that can take place in a perfectly tidy house between the hours of 6 and 9 a.m. Truly a wonder.
The best part of my obnoxiously ostentatious house is this incredible great room that takes up 1/2 the main floor. It is foyer/kitchen/dining/music and family room all in one great open space. 90% of our waking hours are spent in this room and the open path from the front door to the back porch form a shortcut for half the kids in the neighborhood. It is indeed, the ultimate party room; and it’s impossible to keep clean.
This morning I flew in from the lesson, got everyone out the door with kisses and peanut butter sandwiches, negotiated the day’s outfit with Mary(a blog post of it’s own) and checked the schedule to see who was teaching scripture group today. NO ONE. A big fat empty hole. Yeah, that means it’s me.
So I looked around my incredibly messy great room and made the conscious decision to leave it AS IS. I did the basics: clean the toilet (ick!), move the furniture back into place (what? your furniture doesn’t get moved ALL. DAY. LONG?) and wipe the counter where my friends like to rest their books and elbows.
I did of course, steal a moment to document the chaos…
the coliseum set up in the music room, complete with zip-line
My friends arrived at 10 and we were so involved in our tear-filled(always), heartfelt discussion that no one mentioned the smashed cheerios in the carpet or the cereal boxes on the counter.
The hour wrapped up with cute Sam running up from the basement with blood pouring from his mouth. Mary had been demonstrating her prowess in jumping from the fireplace mantle to the bean bag and he followed with painful consequences. When will these boys learn that Mary is a terrible example?
As we mopped up blood I pointed out my messy desk to Holly (as if she couldn’t see it), “Ah,” she replied, “it’s good. Makes you seem more human.”
Her words gave me pause. Most of my scripture group friends (some live across town) see me only on Tuesday mornings when my house is clean, my outfit coordinated and my hair blow -dryed. It’s not an accurate picture of my life.
Here, amongst my blogging friends, I inevitably show you more of the sunny side of life, but I hope there’s enough honesty to keep me human. I’m not afraid to share my foibles with you.
As my friends left scripture group this morning, Mary pulled roses off my fading bushes and strew petals all over the porch and into the hall. She wanted everyone to “be like a princess on their way home.”
It’s another mess to sweep up later. But a beautiful mess, yes indeed.