a very vintage birthday

My sister Kellee is the real world’s answer to Martha Stewart.

Minus the poncho.

And the prison sentence.

And the bad television show that leaves you feeling depressed and inadequate. kelleepans

It also happens to be  the week leading up to her fortieth birthday, which was the perfect reason for her good friend Laura to throw her an old-fashioned soiree. family

Dorr girls are known for our love of all things vintage.

We love Pyrex, the 50s, high heels, dinner parties, table linens, and old dishes.

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And so do our friends.

Which is, of course, a large part of why we are friends.

Well, that and that Lutheran thing.
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So when we showed up in our party get-ups to celebrate and then saw a drink cart with vintage barware,veggies

crudites, andshrimp

shrimp cocktail,allladies

we knew we were in for a fabulous time.

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It was the cat’s meow, you might say.

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The bees’ knees.menKellee is the queen of parties, of taking care of others, of pretty hankies and delicious dishes for dinner, of homemade cards and beautifully crafted gifts.

So when, in her honor, we drank cocktails from the 50s, toasted Kellee (who is not from the 50s), listened to 50s music, and attempted to have pinwheel-esque, 50s hair,

laura it was very, very good . . .

just like Kellee.

the Lord’s goodness

Sometimes, when you’re single, you doubt the Lord’s goodness.

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You forget that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely.

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You pray fervently for a pious spouse. And then you stop praying, sure that the Lord’s good gift of marriage is not for you.

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You resign yourself to a life you didn’t imagine, one you didn’t want.

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And then, in His perfect time and in His perfect way, the Lord gives you the perfect gift. And, in this case, that gift was a 6’2 Lutheran dairy farmer, one who had been praying and waiting himself.
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And when that happens, you just can’t help but kick your heels up a little. Because when the Lord does something, He does it well. When He sees you through all broken hearts, all the tearful calls to your mother, all the whining to your sisters and your best friend, all the sighs, all the Valentine’s Days, He does it in style.

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Because His plan is always good and perfect and best.

Despite the evidence.

Despite proof of the opposite.

Despite your feelings.

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And sometimes, when it seems He’s feeling particularly generous, He gives you a man who loves red Ford pickups, hymnody, gravel roads, reading, the Lutheran Confessions, and cowboy boots as much as you do.

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And you wonder why you ever doubted.

 

 

{photos courtesy . . . Mom!}

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It is a truth universally acknowledged that an LCMS in possession of a convention year must be criddly.*

To peruse Facebook or Twitter, you’d think that:

  1. Going to a convention = the world is ending.
  2. Delegates will each receive 40 lashes upon arrival, departure and at any point in which they start to wonder if this is an amendment to an amendment or an amended amendment’s friendly amendment . . . to the amendment.
  3. St. Louis in July is that of which we do not speak.
  4. Please see numbers 1-3.

But here’s the thing:

  1. Conventions can actually be fruitful. We talk about this stuff incessantly online, but for one week every three years, we are forced to discuss it in person, pastor to pastor, delegate to delegate, man to man. We learn how to articulate our confession in ways that are direct and helpful. We  have true Life Together. Sometimes it’s comfortable. A lot of times it’s awkward. But it’s real.
  2. Synod politics? Those are a myth. Synod theology? That’s fact. We’re not at the convention to discuss taxes and votes. We’re there to discuss theology, and if, as the good Dr. David P. Scaer noted, all theology is, in fact, Christology, then we’re there to be about the things of Christ.
  3. And that, as Martha Stewart would say, is a good thing, no matter the temperature.

 

We don’t have to be criddly. We don’t have to act like a convention is some great burden we must endure. Instead, we are to be firm. We are to be resolute. We can and must be opinionated. We are to dialogue. Most of all, we are to be faithful.

That is to say, we are to be Lutheran.

And when the convention is so 42 seconds ago, when the workbooks are put away and the exhibits pulled down, when the last tweet has been tweeted and the last flight has left Lambert airport, Christ is still the head of His Church. The convention and all its accoutrements will not deter Him from loving the LCMS, from forgiving it, from loading it up with blessings beyond measure . . . again and again and again.

And if there just so happens to be scotch and cigars in the evening? Well, that doesn’t hurt much either.

*owly, grumpy and, in general, a total bummer