welcome home again.

A baby really does change everything. This morning we were up and ready to go to church by 8:30 when only a month ago we found ourselves struggling to be ready by 11. It was the weekend afterall. But as babies don't seem to understand the concept of weekends (every day is play day!) Jack got us up and going before we could say "This Week with George Stephanopolous."

He fell asleep on the five minute ride over and continued to snore softly (although at one point i shook his foot to stop him as it seemed really loud) through the entire hour. When we were gathering our things to leave, the little boy sitting behind us said, "he is so cute. i started looking at him when you came in and i just kept looking." So sweet!

We'll brave the bigger service once the peak of flu season is behind us, but in the meantime, I so much wanted Jack to go there--to the church that has been my home for fifteen years, to the people who have been our family when our family couldn't be present.

I started thinking that the first Sunday my family was at Oak Hill, I was sitting with another John Phillip. (Luckily Pawpee didn't sleep through the service! But he did sing off key.) That was the last weekend that my family spent with my grandfather. My grandfather was an extremely friendly person and so he met many people at Oak Hill that Sunday. When he died, they sent literally hundreds of cards. They made dozens of casseroles. They even came in and emptied our refrigerator of rotten food when we didn't return from the funeral as quickly as planned. They welcomed him--they welcomed every member of my family--into their hearts as if we were old friends.

And here I am, so many years later with this John Phillip, who was also welcomed even before he was known.

I hope he always calls the holy ground of this place home.