Sonntag Morgen

Sunday Morning

I’m at a café on a quiet side street near our home in the suburbs of Berlin (we’re in Lichterfelde; I’m not sure if I’ve meandered to the neighboring neighborhood). It’s Sunday morning, but our church isn’t till 12:15, and Heather sent me off on an outing. She’s been out a few times in the past week and left me with the kids, and she wanted me to be able to also enjoy some quiet moments. When she suggested an hour or two at a café, I thought it sounded like a lovely idea.

So I hopped on the bike (someone who’s out of the country for a time recently loaned it to Heather), verified that Heather’s analysis that it feels somewhat unstable is correct (I think perhaps due to the basket on the front, which of course was loaded with all my café-sitting gear, and the child seat on the back), and greatly enjoyed my ride regardless. It’s supposed to be 97 today, but there is still a vestige of morning coolness, and the breeze stirred up by my gentle pedaling made the morning perfect. I planned to ride to a café just up the street from where we live, but although the door was unlocked, I found the counter untended and a man came out from the back and said, among other things, “Keine offnen.” That was all I understood, but it was sufficient: not open. So I climbed back on the bike, not a bit sorry to continue my easy tour through the streets. I followed a route Heather mapped out to me for running, then turned off when the side streets looked intriguing. The houses in this neighborhood are large and grand, and I enjoyed taking them in as well as praying for those on my heart this morning while I looked for a likely (open, with outdoor seating) café. Just off of Tulpenstrasse (Tulip Street), I found it. It’s shady, with big trees whispering in the breeze overhead. I ordered a cappuccino (to continue my very recent occasional coffee trend) and a piece of plum kuchen (don’t worry, German cake isn’t very sweet, so it’s more like breakfast bread) and settled on the patio.

I love all the threads being tied between me and the children. Yesterday we all went to a lake in the morning, and Claire was eager to splash and “go deep” with me and admire the mussel shells we found in the sand and look for minnows. “Have you had a wedding?” she asked me in the kitchen one morning. When I said no, she said, “Then why do you have rings?” There is nothing that is beyond her persistent “Why?” She asked me after only a day or two, “Why do you keep making that funny face?” Now she asks me to make it: “Can you make one eye go up and one eye down? Now can you do the other one? Now can you keep doing it?” So my eyebrows are already famous.

Lilah has been quieter than usual due to a touch of fever, and specially interested in Mommy, but she can be quite snuggly with me, too. “You huggy!” she says, looking up at me through blonde curls with shining blue eyes and then she goes on to label me with any other silly, made-up words that come to her mind. And she likes to be held: “I carry you?” she asks, arms up.

If Cole is not aware of his exceeding charm, he certainly uses it to good advantage. With a slow blink of his large blue eyes and a dimply grin while he looks away shyly, he captures the heart of many an honest bystander. He is easy to please and usually content to be a little monkey clambering up and down the wide, long hallway that runs through the apartment, scrambling over the doorsills into the rooms and taking great delight in using his tiny hand and, from his lowly stature, making the great doors close. He also gets tickled by his own sweet gibberish, and especially his ability to copy sounds made by others.

And Heather is also becoming a friend. Last night when I shared with her about a friend’s distress, she prayed with me. We keep asking questions and finding out more about each other’s families and histories and interests and personalities. Of course we are sharing daily life together, and the care of the children, both of which are also bonding.

It is good to be learning and growing, to be in a place of beauty and a home where God is honored, and to be able to keep connected with dear ones back at home. Mary’s going away card for me quoted from the beginning of Psalm 105, and I have been thinking about how important it is to remember and tell the deeds of the Lord. May I lift His name before each of you this summer Sunday morning, and declare His purposefulness and kindness in leading me to this place.