Field Note No. 4 — Threading Her Way Into Growing Up

We were in the pew at church, the chapel quieting around us as the opening notes of the hymn began. My almost four year old stood pressed against my knees—warm, wiggly, anchored to me in that way small children are—when she noticed the lacing card I had tucked into my bag.

She lifted it with both hands, leaning her little body into my legs, and then I watched something new unfold. For the first time, her whole self gathered into focus—mind, body, intention all pointing toward this tiny task.

And then I noticed:

her small tongue poking out in concentration.

I’d never seen that expression before.

It felt like witnessing a new part of her arrive, right there between the wooden pews.

While voices rose around us, she threaded the shoelace slowly through each hole, her movements deliberate, steady, serious in the sweetest way. And as I watched her—standing so close I could feel her breath, her movements brushing against my skirt—time seemed to soften at the edges.

She is growing up.

Right here beside me, on an ordinary Sunday morning.

A quiet thread of becoming, woven into the hush of the pew.

May God bless us to pause long enough to see the holy work happening right at our knees.