Day 21: Big Ideas

Out of the box thinking is one of my birthright.

Sometimes my Dad would wake me up at night to share an idea that was keeping him up.  I loved big ideas. 

Sometimes I  would join him on long road trips for business. He had inventory to deliver.  I had an insatiable appetite for adventure. We would rock out to Chicago and Simon and Garfunkel while passing through endless cornfields of the Midwest all while coming up with new business ideas and random inventions. 

I grew up not even knowing there was a box to think outside of. My default worldview was that life presented problems to be solved. 

When I was in library school, I learned a lot about organizational knowledge and structure. Some organizations are designed to bring about innovation and others are slow adapting,  designed to preserve values and tradition. All organizations change and adapt but over different periods of time. 

Decentralized,  nimble organizations like start ups and small non-profits are structured around innovation.  Government,  education, Healthcare, the church gave very good reason to move slowly,  adopt cautiously and value tradition first. 

This can be a source of frustration for people who want to reform these kinds of slow moving organizations. It's easy to get impatient with beaucracy and out of date practices.  But moving slow gives innovation time to mature, be understood and allow ethical debates to occur. This can,  in the best space, create space for wisdom and a protection of people from harms.  In negative ways,  perpetuates harm.  

I'm currently studying the history of the constitution with Eddie and continuing my study of church history. Both histories are heavy with examples of slow change that led to both wisdom and perpetuated harm.  

I was walking with a friend today and we talked about strategic leadership. Setting a vision and bringing people along. Different types of organizations need different types of leaders. 

It got me thinking how someone like me,  born with new ideas popping like popcorn in my brain can work in realms defined by tradition,  rules and hierarchy.  This is one area that has always caused me to pause at the idea of doing ordained ministry.  I love the beautiful traditions of the church. I think they are important and should be preserved and yet,  I can not help myself but think of 100 different ways to wrap those beautiful traditions in new ministries to reinvent church.  

This is the contradiction with my prior post on being the holy remnant.  Being faithful to our faith and traditions and allowing God to do the work of rebuilding the church.  

And yet, it is who I am, to reinvent things. I don't actually know how to live without doing it. My brain wakes up with 20 ideas how to move in strategic new directions with experiments that would provide insight on how to build and refine a plan,  the resources necessary to get started in a minimal way and what questions need to be answered to understand if the whole premise is viable. Im a start up guy,  through and through,  but morally,  I struggle with the start up world. Only billion dollar ideas cut it there and you have to be willing to throw people under the bus to be successful. 

I loved having a start up.  But I would love more to launch ideas that changed lives more than they made money. And so, right now,  I bring big ideas to Sunday school and parenting and homeschooling. And sometimes it's ridiculous. But God has been using my big ideas in small ways and they've made a difference for kids in my life.   

But I keep wondering... is there a place for wild ideas outside Silicon Valley? How can I be faithful to my faith and faithful to who God made me to be?

Day 20: My preplanned change in plans

 

Her face was serious. 

"I wanted to meet with you before pulling the principal in so I didn't throw you for a loop..."  

I smiled.  "Don't worry.  I'm on your team."

We talked for 45 minutes in tiny plastic chairs about what she sees in the classroom,  strengths,  weaknesses,  patterns.  And we opened a discussion that will continue with the principal,  perhaps some therapists or other experts. 

March.  Right on time. It seems like every match or April I find myself airing opposite a grave faced teacher trying to brainstorm some new snag which often leads to questioning what what is the best way to help them each the next set of milestones. 

Every January,  I enroll in school and make default plans for the coming year knowing full well something will change before fall comes around. I don't think there's a single year that all the kids ended up in the place that I registered them in January. 

This year,  I've already met with the principal about Miles and I'm scheduling a meeting about Zander. Am I concerned? No.  I've come to trust this as a process God uses to teach me who my children are becoming and how to guide them in their next step. 

In fact,  I'm grateful for it. It has taught me how to see my kids.  Really see them. Observe.  Ask questions.  If teachers and others hadn't met with me and shared strengths and struggles,  I may have missed some amazing parts of who they are.  

I've learned how to look and what to look for to help a child learn to play,  to talk,  to brush teeth, to eat,  to read, to write. Some kids need to learn these things differently.  Some kids need to learn things we aren't used to teaching and some kids teach us to unlearn things... actually,  I think all kids teach us to unlearn things if we are wise enough to let them.  

Wise,  loving teachers,  administrators,  therapists and others have partnered with me for as I've been a parent to observe,  discern,  experiment, pray and guide my kids into their next step of growth. Sometimes,  it's scary. Sometimes,  it's uncertain. Sometimes,  it takes a few tries but I've always been amazed to see God at work creating the right path for each of them. 

I was think this weekend to write a post about gratitude for childhood. 

The weather has been amazing. Warm sun. Gentle breeze. Miles dug out a bike and got it going.  I watched him ride around the block in the golden light. 

Eddie was in the backyard measuring and cutting wood for a game he's helping to design. 

Zander gathering eggs. Andrew and Philip setting up a board game for the brothers to play together. 

My heart was light watching them live,  thrive and be brothers to each other. A deep joy in watching them develop like Polaroid pictures into the unique people God made them to be. Each of them on a journey of becoming,  as we all are. 

I feel like the by-watchers in John's gospel. 

 "Come and see. Come and see what God is doing in our midst." 

And I bear witness to the slow,  miraculous work of forming  adorable 7lb lumps of clay into light bearers. 

Raising kids is the most spiritual journey I've ever been on. And it continues to grow and challenge me with every unplanned twist and turn.  

Day 19: This week's gospel

 

I am having a hard time coming up with cool Sunday school lessons at the moment. 

I brought this up at spiritual direction and we talked a while about it. 

The thing is,  I  LOVE this set of gospel lessons from John. They are meaty and challenging but that perhaps is what makes it difficult to encapsulate them in a simple message that is accessible for children. 

These stories reveal a side of Jesus that is unpredictable. The set up is similar in each of them - one on one encounters with Jesus and some expectation about who he is and how he should be. But in each of the dialogs,  there is a disconnect between Jesus and the person seeking him. The person is grounded in the physical reality while Jesus speaks of spiritual things and its clearly going over their heads. Honestly,  there are times it goes over my head too and I wonder if the conversation would make more sense in the native language. 

But exactly that head scratching opens me to the mystery of God. It makes me remember a much as we use "what would Jesus do?" As a very useful thought tool. It isn't always clear what Jesus would do or what Jesus would say. And lingering in the mystery of what Jesus actually did and actually said in very ordinary situations draws me deeper into faith. It is both relatable and unpredictable.  

This Sunday, we find Jesus asking a woman for a drink,  then telling her she should be asking him for a drink.  Then they get into a spiritual discussion,  she's trying to keep up but he's clearly next level.  Then the disciples come and it seems like they are used to Jesus doing stuff like this because they don't even ask what's going on. But they brought back snacks and he says they should be asking him for food and i can almost imagine eye rolling,  like Jesus .. dude,  just like have some bread man,  it's not that deep. 

These verses make me laugh. It's easy to imagine these conversations as confused and a little absurd. What will Jesus say next?

They also open small windows into the nature of Jesus and the nature of God. What it means to live as "one reborn" or as "one from the wind. " Jesus uses words like food, water,  wind,  rebirth, reaping and sowing to paint what life connected to God is like. And every time I read them I catch a small unexpected glimpse into the mystery of God. 

Also, I'm not teaching the woman at the well in Sunday school,  if you are wondering. I'm teaching the good shepherd instead.  It's much easier to explain.... but i am trying to figure out how to reach the blind man story so if anyone had any suggestions i am totally open to crowd sourcing Sunday school.  

Day 18: Discernment the easy way

Discernment can feel heavy.

 At the heart of it, there is usually a decision waiting to be made -- a new job to take, a new house to move to, switching schools, switching jobs, starting something, ending something. I enter periods of discernment to look where God is leading me next and trying to align myself with the work God has prepared for me.

I feel like this middle aged discernment, has been a rolling season that doesn't end -- in each new season praying about what's best for the kids, whether I should work outside the home, what things I should volunteer for, how much time I should spend each week exercising, how to organize the day's schedule to support everyone's growth.

Today I was talking to my spiritual director about the current questions of discernment that I am weighing and the story of the sower and the seed came to mind. The seed particularly.

God has designed the seed to grow and different seeds grow in different conditions. Some require fire. Others need to be frozen for a time. Others soaked in water. Some even need to be eaten and digested. 

In my discernment, I worry about getting all the conditions right. I'm like a gardener reading all the details on the packet -- what zone are we in, what type of soil does this need, what steps do I need to take to get a good germination rate?

But in nature, God orchestrates the system, the ecology, the web of life interdependent to create and sustain life. God has given each creature and plant and mineral a role to play and they do not discern the role that they play in the ecosystem, they simply live as they were created.

Perhaps, I need fewer cycles thinking about what the right next decision is and more time watching the Spirit at work. Perhaps, the Spirit is blowing and if I watched and trusted, that next automatic response to the work of the Spirit in the world around me is the roll that God calls me to play. Perhaps I am created,  as all creatures are, to play my part instinctively.  

Discernment imagined this way is light. It is not a decision I have to make, it is the natural progression of trust. God is bigger than my ability to micromanage my decisions and God will use me even if all I do is what comes natural to me. 

Day 17: The faith of my ancestors

 

I am the Lorax, I speak for the trees. 

What was the Lorax? 

Any why was it there? 

And why was it lifted and taken somewhere from the far end of town where the Grickle-grass grows? The old Once-ler still lives here.

Ask him, he knows. 

I worry about the the church. When I was growing up, 70% of people were members of a religious organization. Today, that number is under half. I see it in my church, in churches I visit. The church is growing small and it's getting older. 

My church is maybe half the size it was in 2019. The pandemic seemed to accelerate a shift that was happening gradually and many churches find themselves too small to support staff or buildings and are making hard choices about what that means. My church isn't there but it struggles with being a small church when it's been so used to being a big church.

Personally, I've wrestled with the issue of how to be faithful in the face of this trend -- evangelism? A new approach to church? New ministries? Or...a quiet acceptance that the world is choosing another way?

I was at our synod's elementary school retreat. Kids from churches from all over California gathered in the Redwoods for a weekend of camp songs and Jesus stories and prayers sung to superman, the Addams family and Johnny Appleseed. I sat for a while with a retired pastor and we chatted about the future of the church while we watched the kids prepare skits and make neon lanyard keychains. He said something that day, that has given me deep hope.

"There is always a remnant faithful."

The ark.

Lots family.

The 7,000 who didn't bow to Baal in the time of Elijah.

The exiles returning from Babylon. 

The 12 disciples in the upper room.

Sometimes the faithful, must persist for hundreds of years of darkness to hold on to the faith. They must practice and teach, read and pray while the world burns around them. 

But God does not forsake them and from the remnant, God rebuilds.

Perhaps there is as call to do things differently. To be church differently. To worship in different places at different times. But perhaps, the call is to draw on the courage and faith of our ancestors and continue gathering dispite our small numbers. To break bread. To say the words. To remember the promises. To hold onto the faith.

For in that, we have the seed and a seed can be planted in the fullness of time.

Day 16: Unexpected Sabbath

 

It's 6pm and I'm already in pj's. 

Today was an semi planned,  semi unexpected Sabbath day. 

I know from experience that day 2 after an infusion is the worst in terms of side effects. As we've dialed in doses and measures to reduce side effects,  it's gotten less and less but I still try to keep my calendar light if I can help it. 

But what was surprising about today is there were NO EMERGENCIES! No calls from the office to pick kids up from school,  no frantic emails or phone calls. 

I went for a walk and then spent 2 hours cleaning out my in-box. I laid under a blanket in the sunshine and wrote in my planner. I had quiet space in my head and I thought about important things. I sent out a few emails.  I did planning. I doodled.  I reflected on potential future blog posts. 

I felt like God put a bubble around me and created space for slowness. I felt gratitude for the gift of not having to try. Not having to decide what I was up to and what I needed to push back on. The world was quiet. 

The then... texts arrived. 

People checking in on me.  

Words of care.  

Words of solidarity. 

Some folks silently facing health challenges of their own connecting from a place of empathy. 

Others checking if I would like a treat or some sort of care package.  

The mouth of God,  carrying words of encouragement, connection, comfort and love.  

And then ..

A brown paper bag with a note from God. 

Flowers - frivolous beauty for no other reason than to be beautiful. 

Fruit - fresh,  wholesome,  refreshing.  Your body can and will heal. 

Brookies (brownie on the bottom,  cookie on the top) and chocolate covered pistachio - its OK to not be healthy today. You don't have to hit health goals every day. Sometimes it's fine to lay in bed and eat a brownie. 

Someone listened to God's whisper to be hands and feet today. Someone stopped by the store on their way home and dropped of a reminder of God's grace and love at my doorstep. 

Thanks God. Thanks person who heard God.  You preached the sermon on this unexpected Sabbath day. 

Day 15: Side effects

 

Every time it's a little different. 

My infusion was yesterday. It comes with a giant dose of steroids to minimize initial side effects.  

I felt fine during the infusion. I mostly worked. Gazing around the room from time to time.  More cancer patients than usual.  I held them each in my gaze, in my heart.  There are tons like this all over the place.  Silent battles for life.  Prayers hanging thick in the air. 

When my time was done,  the nurse checked my vitals and asked if I felt good enough to drive.  I did.  Bundled up in my sweatpants and hoodie, I headed out into the 75 degree sunshine. The seat of the car was almost too hot to sit down. 

I was hungry when I got home. I had been at the center for nearly 5 hours and it was closing in on dinner time. I warmed up some soup.  I changed into lighter clothes. I flopped on my bed. 

A little nauseous.  A lot of mucus. Some coughing. A little tightness in the chest.  Some wheezing. I inventoried my symptoms.  I was worn out. A bit of a battle was happening inside my body. It was time to rest. 

Today,  I went about my day as normal.  Eddie and I went to the gym in the morning and then to breakfast to work on his writing. We're reading Life of Pi now.  I checked on with myself periodically.  How are things,  body?

I am expecting a crash soon. The steroids begin to wear off and weariness can set in.  But,  like I said in the beginning,  every time is different.  The last few infusions I think we've figured out the right combination of medicines and fluids to keep it from hitting too hard.  I tell the nurses,  "I got five boys,  I can't afford a lot of down time."

And, miraculously,  they've found ways to make these infusions something of a NASCAR pit stop. Zip. Zip. Zip and I'm back on the track. 

I've been thinking about this,  grateful, that generally is been going well. But on the other hand,  how much I shy away from discomfort. Sometimes healing isn't a comfortable process.  Physical therapy usually isn't.  

Spiritual growth and healing  can also come with side-effects. For me,  it has been this painful shedding of self- importance. Man,  when I was younger,  I really wanted to be somebody. I was ambitious. Embracing my call felt at times like a betrayal of self.  And yet,  that is exactly what Jesus asked of me.  To pick up my cross and follow him. Nailing up all the self ambitions of success and recognition that I wanted to earn and learning a quieter, more humble path. 

I'm not done.  But like the nurses. God is gentle tenderly minimizes side effects as the Spirit heals and makes me whole. 

But some days,  like today,  Lent and medicine make me just want to sleep it off. Wake me up when it's over and I'm all the way healed.