Day 13: Ancient homesteads

 When Philip was 2, the doctors said there was a good chance that he had severe autism. His scores indicated that his brain was developed similar to a 9 month old. 

I tried not to look too far ahead. Instead, i focused on where we were and what he needed in that moment. His first step to developing was learning how to pay attention to something for 15 seconds. To learn how to play with toys. I threw myself on the floor and watched and experimented and listened to podcasts and got therapists and played and played and played with Philip.  

I've kept the habit. Not thinking too far in to the future but looking at my kids right now. Are they growing? Are they thriving? Are there gaps we need to work on? I can't assume that school will be the same next year. I can register and tell myself -"the default plan is...." but I always have to watch and wait and pay attention to little details and come August, just before school starts, without fail, adjustments have to be made.  

I work pretty hard to help my family find a way to be themselves and yet be part of broader society. But it is hard sometimes and I like to take them out to the desert where there is a freedom to be completely themselves. I can feel the weights drop off everyone as they settle into the sand and rocks and sticks off the wilderness. 

But vacation ends and we come back.  

Usually it's a good challenge to go to school, go to church, be a part of society. Buy sometimes when the world doesn't look like it has space for them, I start daydreaming about pulling them out of school and moving out to the country and homeschooling on some homestead with a giant barn. I even learned how to make sourdough. 

Sometimes I think there's something more to my desire to homestead. I think i struggle with how to live out my faith in this current moment in history and i have a deep desire to withdraw and to set up new routines and rhythms. 

In my reading of church history, I discovered this impulse isn't new. My seminary trained friends can correct me here, but the first Christian monasteries were not communities but individuals exasperated by the church in the time of Constantine. House churches moved into buildings. Buildings grew ornate with gold, a big chairs for priests and elaborate alters. Clergy gained political power and many felt it was impossible to live out faith in those churches so they fled to the desert in droves. Seeking solitary lives marked by simple religious orientation. 

But lives in the desert were not right either. Christian faith is not lived through prayer and meditating scripture alone. But rather by love, care and generosity. 

Solitary monks found themselves again out of sync with faith and eventually formed monasteries that look more like what we think of today. Communities based on prayer and scripture, but also work, care for the poor and care of each other. 

I'm not alone in my impulse to just run away from the world. But the same faith that pushes me to run away, also calls me back. 

But man, sometimes I want to load up in that RV and drive for a really long time and rest in a wilderness that has no cell signal and just be. 

Day 12: Safe

Today at church I was at a meeting talking about various church policies to improve safety.  It got me thinking about public policy,  regulation and safety. 

At work, I help to enforce regulations and policies that help ensure the safety and efficacy of medical devices. Next week,  my kids have a lock down drill at school.  I also have to weigh the risks and benefits of taking a strong medicine that will completely mess with my immune system and sign a paper to agree to treatment. Safety, risk and danger is a huge occupant of brain space,  especially for parents who are responsible to make all the health and safety decisions for our children. 

And the internet is there blasting out all the risks and terrible diseases,  awful things that can and do happen to people and could happen to us if we aren't careful. 

It feels like in some ways the world is much safer than the one I grew up in and yet,  in other ways it feels like it isn't.  And so I spent the afternoon trying to make sense of safety,  danger,  faith and common sense.  

We live in a world that preys and profits on our sense of fear. 

Many polls show that people have a gloomier outlook on the economy, crime,  the environment and other social issues than what data says.  This is a broad brush statement and could take several posts to dissect, qualify and explain. 

But, as I reflected,  I decided that the point of this post isn't about public opinion or politics,  but rather a call to be faithful to the gospel,  the good news,  in a world that tries to trigger the fear centers in our brains. This is a Lent blog. We are are in the season of following Jesus to the cross. And so the gospel,  at the very heart,  comingles with safety and danger and faith in the face of such things. 

There  are so many verses that speak this.. written by people who themselves were prosecuted. Here are a few:

"Don't worry about what your life,  what you  will eat or drink or what you will wear..."

"So do not fear,  for I am with you.."

"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity,  but one of power..."

And my  favorite

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..."

But what does it mean to trust God?

Does it mean we should do risky things because God will keep us safe?

Clearly,  no.  But I think,  there is an impulse think we can engineer our way to safety. If we can be smart enough,  careful enough, we might be able to tiptoe through life and avoid tragedy.

When I learn about about a tragedy, inside there's a little voice that asks,  "What caused this,  and what could prevent it in the future?" I keep mental notes of dangerous situations and precautions I can take. 

I spend a lot of time in nature with my kids and I'm borderline obsessive about weather. I know when and where it is going to be extremely hot or cold,  what level of ground saturation can lead to flooding in different areas and the conditions for fires,  avalanche and mud slides.  I also have decent knowledge of dangerous plants and animals and how to treat burns,  deep cuts and other first aid things. I also usually carry a baby carrier that, in a pinch,  can be expanded to fit my three youngest children in the case of injury. 

But the reality is,  as much as I know,  as much as I prepare,  nature is dangerous.  Humans are fragile. And something could happen to me,  my husband or one of my kids. 

That thought churns the pit of my stomach. It shakes my core and makes me wonder if I should be more careful on our RV trips, or maybe not go to such wild places. 

But this is where faith breathes life and love into a place darkened by fear. God is with us. 

Not only is God with us out there in nature,  protecting and providing for us.  But more importantly,  God is with us in the unthinkable. God has walked the road of unthinkable sorrow to walk with us in ours. 

In the same way that I cannot articulate what faith is any more than I can describe the feeling before a rainstorm; I cannot name the calm that faith gives me in the face of danger. 

It is not a reckless, irresponsible impulsiveness but rather a trust that God is bigger than the brokenness of this world and there is not one single thing that I, or my kids,  can go through that God will not be with me.  

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I while I may take steps to be safe. I also remember to not be afraid

Day 11: But really, who's going to clean this up?

Why do we have to do chores? 

And maybe a bigger question,  what chores do we need to do?

I was annoyed with my boys this morning. I had a day plan to do chores in the morning and spend the warm afternoon at the pool or the beach. 

But they had other plans.  They all decided to use hammers and break up some old concrete.  It kept them quite busy for a long time. I think they find a freedom in Lent to return to analog play.  The kind of stuff I did growing up.  Hammering rocks was definitely something I did. 

But I got annoyed with them as the day got warm and chores weren't done and we were long longer on track with my plan.  So I sat them down in the backyard and we talked about why chores exist and why its important to do them. 

Some of them are things we need to do to live - but and make food,  bathe.  Some are things that protect us from disease like doing dishes and cleaning out the refrigerator.  Most are to protect and be good stewards of resources -- keeping the house from falling into decay,  taking care of vehicles,  laundry,  fixing stuff,  cleaning and organizing.  And some are so people think well of us. 

Being a mostly neurodivergent household, I can't assume they even see what I'm talking about.  My husband didn't notice when I painted the house a different color or knocked a wall down while he was at work. And my kids can't be told to clean a room, they must be told "get the pencil on the floor and put it in the pencil container in the counter in the living room." Sometimes they pick up the pencil,  but forget halfway to the destination and just set it on the table. So even when they do help with chores,  it can take a loooooong time. 

To be fair,  some of them get medicine during the week to help them be able to do school the way other kids do school,  sitting in a seat,  listening to instructions and filling in the blanks in worksheets (which honestly,  even with medecine doesn't always work well) but on the weekend,  they take breaks so they are EXTRA spacy.  Also to be fair,  with age,  they have made marked improvements,  but each has a pretty limited scope.  Eddie can do routine tasks like laundry and dish washer,  but struggles with things that require attention or decision making. Andrew is great with cooking and helping with kids but has a harder time with things like "we are going to clean the yard for 20 minutes. " 

During our chat about chores, we talked about these different strengths and how big families have to figure it out,  because it is literally impossible for one person to manage all the work floor the household, there are just too many people to care for. 

In the end we got there.  We talked about new ways to work together.  We considered people's strengths and limitations and the need for all of them to learn how to fully take care of themselves before they go out into the world. The chores got done... well,  the essential chores got done... and Andrew lead playtime and worked in skills that Zander currently needs to work on. We took the van through a car wash,  dropped off donations and had a Wendy's date for lunch.  We ended the day watching a documentary about Mars to help miles start thinking about his science project. 

Being a family is hard.  Parenting is hard.  Deciding where to push and where to adapt is such a tricky thing. And for me,  trying to figure out "what normal" and what my kids "should be doing" and "what they can do" and what they might be able to do if I could just parent them better can get me into a bad headspace. 

It is better,  far better,  to take the body of Christ approach.  We are a family that must do all these functions to live and how we divide it up is best decided by the gifts and abilities we each have rather than by some "normal" way families "do this." 

Blessings to you who parent.  May God give you wisdom and patience,  especially when it comes to the mundane,  have-to- do bits like fixing the sink,  taking out trash and figuring out the the 38 millionth time what we are going to eat for dinner. 

Day 10: Waiting on medicine

I can feel the cracks in my energy

Around 2pm I fall off a cliff as if I were coming down with a virus.  Aches,  chills,  fatigue. My body is done. 

Next Tuesday is my infusion and I can tell my body needs it. But it won't make me better overnight.  In fact,  it may be worse for the first few weeks but slowly, slowly,  I'll climb out of the haze and I'll have more energy. I'll breathe better.  

It's a kind of invisible miracle that keeps me healthy.  Keeps me able bodied. But it takes 6 months for a dose to wear off and I can start to think Im fine on my own. I don't really need it. There's a possibility that someday I could wean off it, but for now,  I most definitely do. 

Church is a similar kind of medicine.

Most weeks it feels routine.  If anything,  inconvenient and a little uncomfortable.  Getting up,  making time,  wrestling kids to get ready, sing the songs,  say the words,  pray the prayers. There is meaning in it for sure.  But if I'm honest, a hike would usually feel better. 

But Church is a kind of medicine that builds up in your spiritual system. A few weeks break doesn't change much in my spiritual health,  but months away and I'm sure I would start to feel the cracks in my soul. 

I have many personal spiritual practices and I think they are a deep way to connect to God. My biggest insights usually come when I'm doing my Examen or reading scripture or writing this blog. But we were made to do faith together. We were made to practice our faith in our living,  not just in our minds.  

I had church today on Facebook. 

A few days ago I posted a blog reflecting on sin and grace and being annoyed with myself. Friends asked vulnerable questions. Confession spoken out loud is sacred. Confession recieved in love and returned in grace is a gift. 

Wrestling with each other about who God is,  what is right and wrong,  how should we live,  who are we and what is the meaning of life is difficult.  We only get one life to live so the answers to these questions and the implications of those answers matter a lot. So we come to church with all our human-ness -- curiosity,  fear,  joy,  anger,  stubbornness and openness and we put up with each other and we carve out a routine together that pushes us each, for a few minutes,  to wrestle with these questions -- not just in the safety of our own mind -- but out loud where other people can hear us - can see us,  accept or reject us.  And where,  we have to in some small ways put those ideas into action -- if we say we should be forgiving,  but then hold grudges against people at church -- we have to live with a kind of discomfort that comes with an unresolved spirit. Eventually,  God pushes us towards forgiveness -- usually. 

Church isn't perfect but it is a kind of medicine for so many things that plague us today : loneliness,  lack of purpose,  anxiety,  pride,  selfishness, lack of patience,  addiction,  comparing our lives social media, feeling like we're not enough.  

But it is a slow medicine.  It doesn't work overnight or even in a few weeks. But it can help us grow strong, find God and meaning and heal from the maladies of modern life if we make space for the ancient medicine it offers. 

Day 9: Science and Faith

 

My boys are all pretty well versed in science and so when they have questions about faith,  God and the universe, they aren't usually simple. 

The first time I saw faith co-mingle with science was in Davis while Ulrich was finishing graduate school.  He was getting his PHD, and so was most everyone else in our bible study group.  There was a geologist, an evolutionary biologist,  Spanish,  botanist and a few other disciplines that I can't remember and we decided -- just for funsies-- to read Genesis. I think our discussions would have offended many people.  They were honest,  open and truth seeking while not leaving everyone's respective professional disciplines at the door. We talked about days of creation and nephilim and the great flood. We talked about what we know about the earth and what we knew about the Bible. It was a safe space to search for God and make sense of what we know about the world. 

My first crisis of faith came as I went through university.  Increasingly I felt pressure to segregate my brain. One compartment for things I learned at school. A different one for things I learned at church. But I couldn't do that.  Questions crossed in both directions.  Faith questioning the "western values" I learned in school.  Science questioning answers the church gave me for history,  science and psychology.  Both circles called me to an all or nothing mentality.  Either embrace science and become and atheist or let go of my brain and critical thinking grab hold of my "traditional values. " I wrestled with this for many years until I found a third path.  

Science and faith use different tools to seek truth and I think to be committed to either you have to be ready to change your mind. 

In science,  new data comes and changes our understanding of things. If you are a scientist,  you have be ready to accept new evidence or systemically prove it wrong. We grew up learning that the tongue had different areas for different tastes,  but taste buds,  which are also on the roof of your mouth and parts of your throat are all able to distinguish flavor. If you would like to nerd out on this,  here's a link: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8956797/ Other prominent examples come from nutrition - the old eggs are good,  eggs are bad for you debate.  

In faith,  new interpretations or understandings can, in the same way,  change our view of God. I'll give a small example.  When I was young I used to imagine the "fruit of the spirit, " as a fully formed fruit made by the spirit and handed to me to eat.  Like Pentecost,  the Spirit rests upon me and suddenly I'm more patient. But over time,  I've come to think of this more as the spirit working in me and makes me produce fruit. This shows God working on me and transforming me over a long period and the fruit of a life lived in faith is a demeanor that reflects the nature of God.

People who deeply seek truth often end of in science or faith.  And sometimes,  they can become a fundamentalist.  Fixed in the ways they learned when they were young.  Think of doctors who stubbornly hold on to older therapies that were tried and true when new guidelines have shown  better options are available or people who just say -- follow the science -- while issuing blanket statements. 

Or, in faith, there are folks who get very black and white when discussing mysteries upon which there are a variety of theological interpretations.  

Some of my favorite people to talk to are faithful scientists who can hold empirical evidence with one hand and testimony and 4 different translations of the Bible in the other. They have a willingness to dance with mystery and wrestle a an angel. And often,  the humilty to be wrong.. over and over again. 

 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known

I have come to cherish this verse. I'm never going to grasp the whole truth until the fullness of time. And until then I can do my best with the part that I can know and.... in the meantime... the verse instructs me... hold on to faith,  hope and love. Especially love. 

Day 8: A day in the life of a homeschooling mom

 

It's 9pm and I'm in the kids room trying to figure out what to write about.  I pulled out John and continued reading a couple chapters.  Hmm. Nothing stands out.  Walk the the Examen -- a detailed reflection of the day noticing when God was present,  and where God felt far away.  Nothing stands out. It was an ordinary day. 

This was just a day to be faithful. So I guess I'll tell you about it. 

It started with school drop off. Well actually, it stated with cleaning the house,  feeding the chicks and getting everyone ready.  THEN doing drop off. Zander forgot his backpack.  So I drove to school twice. 

Nervously,  I stopped by the doctors for my first mammogram which was a quicker appointment than I expected and much less of a big deal than I thought it would be.  

After the morning bustle,  I settled into homeschooling.  I spent most of the day teaching Eddie to write. 

We watched a lecture on Constitutional History and discussed Supreme Court cases from the early 1800s regarding US relations with Indian tribes. There was a lot of meat to talk about. We also just finished reading "The Boy who Harnessed the Wind" about a boy in Malawi who taught himself about electricity and built a windmill to try to better life for his family. Painstakingly,  I helped Eddie reflect and articulate.  Writing is hard for him. It takes a ton of focus and patience to help him.  Luckily,  I love learning and enjoy the classes. 

I cleaned and cooked and attended a work meeting. I dealt with email and I did another round of lessons with Eddie then dropped off groceries and mail to Sonja.   I picked up the other kids and fed them after school snacks. 

As a family,  we're on book 3 of a four book series.  We reached the exciting part last night and they asked if we could "do a read along after school" and try to finish the book. I told them we could after they put away laundry. 

After laundry and chores and homework. We spent all afternoon laying around while I read the last 100 pages outloud. My voice is scratchy. But we finished. 

While I read, the kids made 3D sculptures out of tin foil and for a while,  Miles decided to play in the sprinkler in the back yard. Zander found some styrofoam from an Amazon box and used a screwdriver to carve into it.  

It was messy. 

I did a lot of cleaning up and another round of food before getting everyone ready for bed. Philip pounded classical music on the piano. I checked on the baby chicks and got them another round of water. 

Everyone climbed into bed to hear the last chapter.  I finished reading,  closed the book, snuggled Zander and turned off lights. 

9:00 and everyone is settling into bed and I'm sitting quietly in their room reflecting on the day and trying to conjure up something deep and meaningful to share. 

God did speak to me today. 

Calmed my nerves at the doctor,  

instructed and challenged me through history and literature lessons, 

inspired me as a teacher,  

gave me joy at watching my little image-bearers fall into creative spaces and 

hovered over us as we enjoyed a good story. 

I'm tired and happy at the end of another day of living out this call in this chapter. Im thankful for this time.  It is a blessing to have this time with my kids.

It is an ordinary kind of meeting God.  

Nothing supernatural,  yet small slow unfolding miracles on all sides of me. 

Faith was a verb.  It was showing up and staying present all day.  And now, as the day closes,  I have no remarkable theological insight to share here.  Just a quiet contentment that follows a day that I have been where I've needed to be, doing what I've been called to do. 

If today felt ordinary for you and perhaps difficult to see God. Perhaps,  God was with you anyways. Perhaps, in the ordinary routine of your day,  you too lived out the call of this season. 

This is enough. God has all the rest. 

Day 7: Where the wind blows

 

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

Nicodemus came to Jesus at night because he had an itch. He saw something different in Jesus and he just had to know what was going on.  

The whole book of John is full of conversations of people who see Jesus and want to know what's up.  Then when they talk to Jesus, it reads like two people talking past each other. The conversation doesn't make any sense.  

One of my favorite ways to wrap my head around Jesus is the character of Aslan in the Narnia books. He appears and disappears. You think you can predict what he will do and then always they say,  " He isn't a tame lion. "

The more I follow Jesus,  the less I can explain in and the more it fits to say,  it is like the wind.  I can feel it.  I can hear it.  I can know it in my bones but I can not tell you where it comes from or where it goes. 

Today was an ordinary day and I scratched my head all day trying to find God. Trying to hear God speaking and what I might write about.  But I just felt an uneasy sense in my spirit.  Like the wilderness approaching,  but there wasn't anything to say.  I am just watching clouds roll in and I feel the air shift and smell that something that says rain is coming. The breeze feels like rain coming. I don't know how i can say what it is that makes me know rain is coming.  Sometimes it looks a lot like rain but it doesn't feel like rain. 

I pondered the fruit of the spirit that I wrote about yesterday and I thought,  well,  how is it that one cultivates a garden of faith? How do we draw close to God. Prayer,  scripture,  spiritual practices. I've written about these things a lot.  Hmm. I guess I should go looking for Jesus.  But will i find him?

I'll start with this week's gospel.  I can usually find Jesus when I try to write a sermon.  

Nicodemus.  John 3. This verse is so famous. I love it but I have read it so many times. There is not much new to say.  

But I read and watch the familiar scene unfold before my eyes.  I study it.  What do I say?

I love this line -- about the wind. It describes my faith so well.  But how can I write about it. I don't even understand it. It just is like that.  

It was getting ready to rain and I stood wondering how I knew that.  

Because, that's what its like before rain.  

I guess I found Jesus. I don't have great words to describe it but sometimes that's what faith looks like.