Day 33: Fearless

He spoke with the power of Jesus himself. 

The memory is fuzzy in my mind,  so distant I have a hard time believing it to be true. 

I was 19 or 20. I had gotten an old retired bus donated from the local district.  I loaded it with donations and drove it to Miami. I arrived at the port and had it loaded on a ship to Haiti. 

I flew to Haiti and went with the pastor of the church I worked with to the Port to collect the bus from the ship. 

I was exhausted and sleeping in the back wedged between some sacks of pinto beans. The bus came to a stop and an armed man stood at the door.  Things seemed tense.

I stayed still half asleep, half highly alert.

The pastor's voice was calm.  

"This bus belongs to God.  I would not be responsible if you stole it from him. "

The men left. It felt like Obi-Wan using the force. 

We never spoke a word of the incident.  

I sometimes wonder if the memory is real. I never much shared it and as I've said,  he and I never talked about it. 

But it was ordinary for him. He experienced things like this.  His brother was murdered in a similar situation. 

Haiti can be dangerous. 

This small,  gentle pastor has a largeness and a power that reminded me of Jesus. His faith gave him an unwavering ability to choose the right thing,  even when the right thing was dangerous. He died march 20, 2005 of meningitis.  

There are times when faith asks us to risk something. Our reputation, our finances, our careers. When I face a moment of risk in faith, I remember his eyes. Serious and knowledgeable of the risks he faced and yet kind and soft with a conviction that would must certainly move mountains.  

Today I've been thinking about the church and I feel the church is called to risk.  To go out in faith with a trust that God will lead and God will provide -- people,  money,  opportunity.  And i imagine this Haitian pastor -- and I think-- I need a bit of his courage. Maybe we all do. 

Day 32: But I don't want to

I keep weekends open intentionally. 

Saturdays are an open book to get school projects done,  do a fun outing,  catch up on house work or just veg and recover. 

This is a good arrangement for my family.  They need a slower pace and more down time. However,  Saturday morning comes and NO ONE knows what to do. I have to figure out priorities and come up with a plan. I go around and gather input. Do you have homework? Do you have anything you want to do this weekend? Non commital grunts.  What does that mean? 

Eventually,  I make everyone pull out laptops and go subject by subject -- is there homework? I make a list of essential chores. Nice to have chores.  A few options for activities based on weather and the general vibe.  By the time I've done this everyone in the house has found some lazy activity -- one's curled up on the couch with a book,  two in the sandbox, someone else is building something out of cardboard and the last on its just laying on the floor staring at the ceiling. My husband has vanished and the kitchen is a mess from the breakfast rush. 

Since things are calm,  I clean the kitchen and mentally organize the day given the inertia I now need to overcome. I keep my eye on everyone looking for my break. There's a moment when someone is ready to switch activities and if I get something going at just the right time,  in just the right way,  sometimes I can get us on track without too much issue.  

But more often than not I can't find a break and the morning turns to lunch and the day hasn't even started and I have to reconsider and focus on only top priorities. 

What gets me is that they drag their heels even on fun days. 

"Let's go swimming..." 

Naaaaaaa 

I have to twist their arms and say,  we'll just go for 5 minutes and you don't have to get in the pool.  

And we arrive and they are in the water having the time of their life. And I'm exhausted because it took every bit of energy I had just to get them there. 

I wonder if I'm like this with God.

I'm happy in my simple life not seeing the big picture of eternity and God calls me into something new,  that I will totally love and thrive in -- and yet -- I dig my heels in refusing to listen. 

May I find an openness to things that don't fit in with my plans. May I be willing to do things that aren't comfortable. May I find the ability to look up from my minutia long enough to recognize when God is inviting me on an adventure. And may I have humilty to remember that my perspective is limited and generally self centered. 

Sometimes we get to go swimming. Sometimes we have to clean the back yard. Sometimes we just need to rest.  

Good parents know what the family needs and spend a great deal of effort balancing those needs and ensuring everyone is cared for. 

May I trust God as the good parent who knows what I need and what all my siblings need and have a heart to participate in what's needed.  

Day 31: Waiting

On one hand,  Fridays have a more relaxed schedule.  On the other,  there are always things I need to try to cram into the limited space. 

Today's mission was ambitious.  I was going to do about an hour of consulting work,  then head over to Sonja to try to get her a login for social security. 

On the surface,  it doesn't seem that ambitious. A little tech support while I wait for Eddie to finish bowling. But setting up an electronic account with SSI is somehow harder than getting clearances at a national lab with a nuclear facility. And honestly,  I'm not exaggerating that much -- when we moved to Livermore,  Ulrich was hired as a scientist at Sandia and yes there was paperwork and beaurocracy but only slightly more than the hoops they were asking me to jump through to set up Sonjas SSI benefit account. 

Today was my third attempt. I started at 9am. We spent about an hour taking pictures of required documents and uploading them into a portal. Then a timer appeared on my phone. I had 1 hour until they wanted to do a video chat with her. 

I quickly drove 20 minutes away to pick up Eddie and head back. Eyes flicking to the phone every few minutes to check on the timer. 

1 hour 5 minutes

52 minutes

47 minutes

42 minutes

30 minutes

As I was on my way back,  it jumped back up to an 1 hour 2 minutes. 

Hmmm... Eddie has music class and I have to be present as an adult. This wouldn't be over before class started. 

I called Sonja and we agreed she could come over when the timer counted down to like 15 minutes. 

I got home and started housework. Always an eye on the timer. Up and down the timer went.  I plugged my phone in to keep it charged. I was so stressed. Life couldn't continue until this timer gave me permission.  

At 16 minutes,  I called Sonja and she headed over with a friend of hers named Vincent. The three of us sat in rocking chairs in my living room talking about kids and health and Jesus.  And we kept watching the timer.

9 minutes. 

6 minutes.

I handed the phone to Sonja just in case it launched a video call without warning. 

We talked about Job. 

Suddenly a large X appeared on the screen the the place if the timer. Sonja handed me the phone

"The name visible on the documents does not match the recipient, please re-upload document pictures."

So again I took pictures of her ID and uploaded it to the portal. 

"Thank you.  We will review these images manually and schedule next steps via email.  Good bye. " 

She left. It was 1 o clock. I spent over half the day looking at that little timer and I didn't know if I was any closer to having a log-in for her.

I'm still waiting for the account but I'm not expectantly waiting. I'm not glancing at my phone,  held captive by a small timer that doesn't actually tell me how long I will be waiting.  I'm doing other things and hopeful an email will show up eventually.   

I find myself sometimes waiting on God as if there were a timer and a pop up video call that will appear when the countdown finishes. I find it hard to do other things because,  I'm waiting on God to do something,  to say something,  to give me a sign and I'm afraid I'll miss it. 

Then there are other times when I am waiting on God but it is more like email -- I go about my day hopeful that God will show up but in the meantime I continue with my ordinary routine. 

We're drawing close to Easter and in this time,  I find myself looking for God,  expecting God to pop out with bold amazing messages. 

I am 💯 the people lining the street of Jerusalem -- waving palms and ready to see God do fireworks. Time for some big time messiah action. 

But Jesus is riding a donkey not a horse. 

His eyes are sad,  not proud. 

I misunderstood.  God is coming. But not the way I hope or want or expect. Not with clear answers or sweeping changes that fixes all the things wrong with the world.  

Dare I follow the donkey to see where it goes?  Dare I follow Jesus and try to understand what God is doing? 

Day 30: Lean out

When I was at the beginning on my tenure as a startup founder, Sheryl Sandberg released "Lean in" a guide for women leaders. 

It talks a lot about inviting yourself to the table. Making things happen.  Putting yourself out there. 

I think leadership often involves imagining the world differently and taking steps to help others see the vision.  It's also running small experiments, testing and refining ideas,  talking to people,  gathering perspective and empowering people to become change makers. 

Changing the world,  even in small ways often looks a lot like "Leaning in." It's stepping up and saying yes and then figuring out how to make it happen.

Leaning in is one of my default postures. I spend a lot of time reflecting on what might make the world better and the rest of it Leaning in on small ways in my current situation I could make incremental progress on some way to make it happen -- even if that's just with my own kids or my own carbon footprint or my church or school. 

When we pray "your will be done on earth as it is in heaven, " I  am tempted to pray, "give me wisdom and point me in the right direction so I  can start doing all the amazing God things on earth " I want to lean in and manifest God's will. 

But the more faith informed side knows better. I don't understand God any better than the disciples understood Jesus. If I've learned anything from faith,  it's that God's will for this beautiful creation is more radical than any of us can imagine. Even more,  it is born in ways that we wouldn't choose or expect. No 1st century Jew had the messiah on a cross as part of the "God's own bingo card. " We have theology for it now with 2,000 years to think about "why the cross?" And still.... I wonder.... why the cross? 

If we had God's will on earth as it is in heaven,  would there have been a cross? 

And so God moves in mystery. And prayer requires me to sometimes set aside my fire to DO THINGS and just...  

just... 

just what?

I've been feeling a call to "lean out." 

To not send emails.  To not make things happen.  To just... just... 

I'm not sure what.  Perhaps listen.  Perhaps watch.  Perhaps pray. 

And so I'm trying to be faithful to this call and to slow down and intentionally not try to do anything,  but I have to say for the record -- that it is not comfortable,  I don't like it and I would much rather try to make something happen. 

So here's me trusting that God will call me off the bench at some point. And hoping I'm paying attention well enough to know what to do once I'm back in the game. 

Day 29: Mailing it in

My mother grew up catholic. Went to a catholic school in a tiny town. Everyone in town was catholic. Half of them were related to my mom somehow. 

She fought to create authentic faith for herself. It bothered her that everyone went to mass and said the words and did the things. But it felt hollow.  She wanted to meet Jesus. Know Jesus. 

I grew up in a more charismatic household.  My mom found faith that was vibrant and she did everything she could to pass it on to us kids. Consequently,  I grew up seeing the fireworks of personal faith. The earnest seeking of God and the honest finding of God in songs and scripture and heartfelt prayers.  

It wasn't until I was grown that I really understood liturgy. Creeds and recited prayers were,  in my mind,  just old fashioned things people did when their heart wasn't in it.  

I was a little bit right. But just a little bit. 

My heart wasn't in it today.  

I had my infusion yesterday and I was nauseous and tired today.  But there was chapel at church and I had teenage boys to homeschool.  

Life has become a form of liturgy. Small moments where I touch God. And I wasn't feeling it today. At all.  But the routine touched the places and I lived into a thing I didn't feel. 

That's what liturgy is there for and memorized verses and hymns. The things I know so deeply in my soul that when I have nothing to pull up,  I can pull them up and they can help me find my way back to faith. 

When I was a teenager, I struggled with depression. There were many days I couldn't find the point of anything. It was a place of despair. But in that darkness,  I decided to shift my focus from myself to someone else. I would go volunteer or do something for my brothers and the act of moving my body with purpose would pierce the darkness. 

That is liturgy of living. 

We all have days that we need to mail it in. But if our routines and rhythms can point us to the light, we can find a path back even on days that feel especially dark. 

Day 28: A lesson in how to listen to God

 

I came home from my infusion ready to flop on the bed and ignore the world. 

But, it's still Lent so we switched the internet off. 

Eddie was stuck. He offered to go somewhere to work on calculus homework,  but class is canceled on Thursday so he has plenty of time.  Nope,  I decided.  Today is a day to just sit with it.  

Andrew and I sat in rocking chairs in the living room.  Our heads resting back, being part of the family but kind of wanting to lay down. Eddie pulled up a chair. I could feel it.  An openness. A boredom. A longing for something. 

"Lent is hard. " I said.  "Sometimes we have to just sit with it,  not knowing what it is.  It's how we learn to listen to God. When you have your headphones on high,  you are getting something. But you can usually hear me and I'm pretty sure you can't hear God." 

"I wonder if Saul would have heard God is he had headphones on. "

Eddie: well,  it was pretty dramatic...

Me: do you think God tried something quieter and had to resort to something dramatic?

God talks to us in all kinds of ways. But the tricky part is first hearing it and second. Separating the stuff God said from the stuff in our own heads. Did you know the church has guidance for helping us figure out when things are from God

It's a fancy word called discernment. And it involves thinking critically -- does it match what I know about God? Does it match scripture? Then,  if you tell the thing to other people who are also believers in God, they can use their wisdom and insight to say -- hmm, it think that was just you or wow,  I think that might be from God. And eventually with praying,  thinking and talking to people we can figure out if the thing might be from God. 

The conversation went on and on. We talked about having purpose and vocation.  Having specific calls or just making choices that live a life that is faithful to our faith even when there isn't a special call.  We talked about the body of Christ and how all kinds of people are needed to do God's work and we talked about the world and what kinds of people are going to be very helpful in the coming generation. What problems do their generations face compared to the problems my generation faced when I was a teenager and trying to figure out what to do.  

We talked about different way God spoke in the Bible. Ways that God speaks today.  Ways that God has spoken to me. 

It was such a good conversation.  Maybe an hour or two. We moved from rocking chairs to the back yard and sipped drinks until Eddie needed to go to Taekwondo. 

My heart cherished the moment. I, in a small way,  am handing over the reigns. I can listen and help to discern,  but God will speak to them. God is forming them and I will bear witness to it. 

Man,  Lent was wearing me down,  but today,  thankful for God speaking to us through a bored teenager. 

Day 27: When teenagers come home late

 

I'm in my rocking chair watching and waiting for Eddie to get back from bells and for Ulrich to return from work.  It's 8:49. 

Eddie's late. He usually gets home around 8:30ish I'm starting to worry. Every time I send him out on his scooter,  I do so knowing there's a chance he could get hurt or even not come home. My stomach churns a little. If he's not home in ten minutes,  I might go out looking for him. 

I remember my mother panicking when I was a teenager. Back then,  we didn't have cell phones. But one day,  I was riding the bus and and announcer came over the loudspeaker. "If Sara is on this bus,  her mother is looking for her."

Waiting,  just waiting, feels helpless. Mothers don't just sit and wait. If there's something to be done,  then mother's are going to do the thing.  

But sometimes God calls on us to wait and trust even when the result doesn't go the way we hope or expect. It is in that place,  where faith doesn't feel rational at all,  that I call out to God. "Are you there? Are you sure? I'm trying to trust you. "

Jesus's mother followed him all the way to the cross. And I'm almost sure the woman who spoke to angels,  who found herself overcome by the Holy Spirit and who carried the son of God inside her own womb sat in the shadows crying out to God,  "Are you there? Are you sure? I'm trying to trust you...." what else could she do watching her invincible, miracle making boy dying slowly on a tree. Mary had a hard road.   

God was not there.  Jesus cried out. "My God why have you forsaken me. " Mary's heart tore. I would have felt so utterly betrayed by God.  

But the story doesn't end there. The Gospels don't record whether his mother was among the women who went to the tomb. As a mother,  I find it impossible to think she didn't go.  However it went,  I'm almost certain that Jesus gave her that look.  That look the kids give moms that says -- I'm OK.  Actually,  I'm good. Everything is good -- and Mary had peace.  She could see it in his face and her heart held that image for the rest of her days. I'm sure of it. 

And.... Eddie walked in the door. I can sleep tonight. Thank you God for bringing them all home safe at the end of the day.