Under A Waxing Crescent Moon

There's a waxing crescent moon tonight.  The New Moon is past and a sliver of light is peaking around the moon, waiting to come full circle again.

Wiccans and psychics will tell you that this is one of the best times to perform spells of initiation -- blessings for new things, and incantations for starting new beginnings and new phases in one's life.  Renewal, revivication, rejuvenation and reunion... this is what the waxing crescent moon means.

Today, for the first time in about four years, I went to church.  I went to see my dear friend (and quasi-brother-in-law) Chris Harrison preach as a pastor candidate at the Presbyterian Church he's been interviewing with for the past year.  For ten years, Chris and his wife, my godsister, Rebecca, have lived in Arizona. Since they moved there, we've all been conspiring to get them back here, in Blue Country, and a milder climate.  Chris, who finished seminary this year, and is due to be ordained in Mesa next month, applied to a church in Southern California a year ago last March.  After a long and detailed interview process, he, Rebecca and their children were finally brought to So. Cal. for a weekend of whirlwind meet-and-greets with the entire congregation, to spend the weekend getting to know everybody, and to give Chris the opportunity to preach a Sunday service.  I think he was awesome.  But I'm biased, so take it with a grain of salt. 

Afterward, they ushered all of us out so the congregation could vote, right then and there (if you're familiar with the Presbytery, you'll understand how the process works. It's a very democratic church.)  After less than half an hour, the elders tallied the votes, and the membership gave Chris an overwhelming welcome as their new pastor. So Chris and Rebecca will be moving their family back to So. Cal. this summer, in time to be a part of Sylas' life from the beginning.  They'll also be expanding their family in a few weeks with the addition of Desmond, the ten-month-old Ethiopian baby they've adopted and are waiting to pick up, and we can be a part of his life as well.

I've known Rebecca since she was twenty-two months old.  I went to her second birthday party.  We grew up together, spending summers in the swimming pool, and playing with make-up and, later, attending acting classes together. We've sung together, and laughed and cried together. We said good-bye to my mother and her mother, my godmother, together, and scattered both sets of ashes in the blue Pacific. We said hello to our children.  Weddings, funerals, christenings, birthdays, Christmases, Easter Egg hunts and more Thanksgivings than I can count.  She knew me as "Tina". I knew her as "Becca."

As I told her today, "We're sort of stuck with each other.  Like family.  You just can't shake us."  Family is like that.  You can get mad at them, get fed up with them, have enough of them, have too much of them. You can part with them for long periods due to logistical circumstances.  But you will always end up back with them, as if you were never parted.  That's what family is -- especially your "family of choice."  Because they're the ones who know you, and love you for all your flaws and your wonderful qualities. Sometime this summer, the family will be back together, after a long, long separation. New children, new holidays, new birthdays, new memories.

There's a waxing crescent moon tonight.  And today, it has delivered on all its promises.