Day 43: He has risen!

 The boys woke up at the crack of dawn,  just like I thought they would.  It felt like Christmas.  I told them they could play video games until 8. They were wrapped in blankets in a big ball on the couch, everyone holding a tablet.  

I got up and threw the cinnamon rolls in the oven, mixed icing and slowly sipped my sweet sweet caffeine.  The house smelled like a celebration. 

We got dressed and went to church. I realized it has been 3 years since we've been in church on Easter morning. Even longer since we've been there early.

Jesus Christ is risen today. 

I was overwhelmed by the familiar,  powerful anthem that rings in Easter service.  It is my favorite few minutes of the day.  Everything melts away and my heart pours itself fully into the singing. I close my eyes and prayed every word. The alleluias echoed in my heart and for a small moment I too, stood in front of the empty tomb. Awestruck and trembling. 

Today,  the sun shines with a ferocity and the plants in my garden have grown new leaves since yesterday.  Life triumphs. As much as yesterday was a silent, hopeful vigil.  Today rings with promise,  new life and exuberant joy. The water that washed us clean yesterday shows up on our well-nourished faces this morning. The women hurried to the garden to carry on with funeral duties.  They found an empty tomb. "Go and tell. " They had a new mission. From them to the disciples.  From the disciples to the rest of the jews. To the ends of the earth. This moment creates new purpose.  To invite the world into God's new creation and we are to do it by choosing love.  Just as Christ told us 

Let my feet and hands carry this news,  this joy,  this rebirth forward from here.  May I be a vessel of God's ongoing rebirth and transformation of this earth.  

May you as well.  May we together be light bearers, bringing Easter light to all the dark places we find. 

Amen. 

Day 42: Holding vigil

 My aunt passed away this morning.  

It was raining and I went out to care for the chickens.  Zander followed me out in his jammies and miles in his underwear.  They stomped in puddles while I tended the chickens.  The air was warmer than I expected.  A spring rain... not a winter one. 

I paused and let the rain fall on me. It is Easter vigil.  All of my kids were baptized on this day (or very early on Easter). Early believers were baptized on this day.  The stillness of death before resurrection.  The rain reminded me of baptism.  My kids playing in the water. It was a holy moment. I thought of my aunt passing newly on.  The water dancing around her in the quiet place between death and resurrection. 

I went back inside.  Lots of errands today.  Groceries for Easter.  Finishing school projects so we won't have to work on Easter or the day after.  We have big plans for Easter Monday that involve video games, a walk to Mcdonald's and me sitting on a swing sipping diet coke in the back yard.  If we're all going to take the full day off... we have a lot to do today.

I took Zander with me to buy some new Easter clothes for boys who are too big for last year's.  It felt like a vigil.  Getting ready for a funeral.  Getting ready for a party.  It felt like both.  The gray, sad day continued on outside. 

I went to the grocery store. I had decided to fast from Thursday night until Sunday morning.  I was hungry. I thought about comfort foods we eat on Easter morning and after funerals.  I remember my grandfather died during Lent and his priest made an exception to the no meat during Lent for the funeral.  It was a feast.  It was a comfort to eat together with the whole family. 

I bought my diet coke for Monday.  I thought about my swing and the blissful day of boys on video games all day.  My whole heart entered into anticipation.  For good food.  For drink.  For the resurrection just around the corner. 

I came home and cleaned the house.  The clouds outside lifted. The sun peered down in the afternoon.  I grinned. I've had this ongoing search for bad weather on Easter.  But for the last 15 years, wherever I've been it's been 70 and sunny every year for Easter day.  I could feel the time of Easter drawing close.  Almost like labor drawing close.  Just that feeling.  It's coming. It's almost here. 

Getting ready for a funeral.  Ordinary things.  Making coffee.  Doing paperwork.  Organizing events and people.  It's busy and a blur. 

The disciples didn't know Jesus was rising on Sunday.  They held vigil during the sabbath.  Thinking about all the things to do in the new week.  They wondered what now? What next? Who are we? They held grief close.  They did very little.  Just the ordinary. 

Holding vigil.  

Holding space. 

In the emptiness after death before the bustle of resurrection. 

Today was a vigil for me.  Incredibly ordinary but with heightened awareness and intention. Emotions like rain drops spatter the soul. 

These are the waters we're baptized into holding onto the ache of the cross in one hand and the joy of resurrection in the other. 

I'm just trying to sit with that for today. But still, my soul stirs. Something is coming.   

Day 41: But why... Love?

 I sat in the front row as we usually do. Most years I haven't attempted holy week or lenten services because 7pm on a school night is too late.  They are all toast and a calm, contemplative service is too tall an order.  

But this year, I decided to brave it. They are all getting older and I want it to be part of life for them.  Maundy Thursday tends to be more family oriented.  Washing feet,  communion,  praying in a garden.  This is the gentle part of the passion.  There is movement and it isn't quite as somber as good Friday.  A better place to start with 5 squirmy,  just before bedtime boys. 

Tonight's service was pretty meditative.  Candlelit.  Reflective.  Poetic. Stations of the cross around the back of the room.  We walked through them and took our seats.  Zander played on the floor with cars.  Miles laid on my lap. My attention split between keeping the little ones from being a distraction and the words being shared in the liturgy.

An odd thing struck me.  Jesus gave his last command,  "Love each other. " I mean,  of course. That goes without saying.  I usually pass right by that point.  But today it hit me hard.  The very last thing Jesus told all his disciples to do was love each other. 

There's a part of me that sees faith as an individual endeavor.  Seeking God at the top of a mountain,  a retreat at a monastery, deep study of ancient texts,  vibrant prayer.  But Jesus didn't give a final command to pray or to study scripture.  Jesus said to love each other.  Really? Is faith deeply,  essentially about loving each other? 

I've never been perplexed by this until today.  Sitting in the front row of church,  trying to pay attention to service while mothering the squirrelly boys at my feet.  Motherhood makes it hard for me to go to bible study, to journal,  to study scripture.  Motherhood makes spiritual practices difficult.  But motherhood is a spiritual practice. Choosing love instead of advancement in my career.  Choosing love instead of sleep in the middle of the night.  Choosing love, knowing that caring for a sick kid will make me sick too. 

Peeling away layer after layer of my selfishness and  pride.   Peeling away fear and anger. 

Faith

A belief I hold

Knowledge I have of God 

Theology

Or....

Love

Change in my heart

Forgiveness

Self sacrifice

I don't think I can have faith without love.  I don't think I can believe or follow God with just my mind or a set of right beliefs.  My heart must also be changed by love.  Jesus had to make it simple for us. 

I've thought about this a lot and yet I don't have it fully in my grasp. But Jesus left us all with a command that carves deeply into the essence of who we are... 

"A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another."

Day 40: planning the last day of your life

 

The story starts tomorrow.  We walk with Jesus through the last days of his life.  The last supper,  the garden,  the trial,  the cross, the tomb. We have services Thursday night,  Friday, Saturday and Sunday to tell this story and follow in detail. 

I've thought all day about this well worn series of events that Jesus went through on his way to the cross.  And it struck me.... the last supper.

Jesus knew the story would be set into motion.  He knew the last supper would be his last supper.  

Sometimes we are given the hint that our days will be numbered. A diagnosis.  So much time to live.  Sometimes as people are dying they know when it is getting close. 

If we could choose our last day,  what do we do with it?

When I see the last supper through this lens,  I see Jesus doing many things I might choose to do with my last day.  Have dinner with people I love.  Tell them the things I need to get off my chest. Walk in a garden into the night.  Steal away to pray for strength to face the coming dread.

I'm not sure how Jesus saw the events unfold in his mind.  If he knew exactly what would go down in perfect detail or if he just leaned into God trusting in a plan.  I don't know how the divinity of Jesus interplays with the cross. The theology is heavy here and I'm sure incredibly controversial.  

But all through this story, I see Jesus teaching me how to live and how to die.  Forgiving the thief on the cross next to his,  caring for his mother as he groans in agony,  washing his friends feet before he heads into his own suffering. Jesus offered us his light through to the very last moment. 

I hold that close as I re read familiar stories.  

Jesus, teach me your ways.  May I learn to follow your lead. 

Day 39: Disappointed

 

Jesus has a very special love for you. [But] as for me–The silence and the emptiness is so great–that I look and do not see,–Listen and do not hear. –MOTHER TERESA TO THE REV. MICHAEL VAN DER PEET, SEPTEMBER 1979

Mother Theresa's struggle with faith has brought me comfort over the years.  In my youth,  I was so certain of God in my life and as I've gotten older I feel as though I search for God but rarely sense his presence. When I read about mother Theresa's similar experience I felt comforted and began to see the absence of God as an invitation to spiritual maturity. To trust what I cannot feel,  to believe what I cannot understand. 

This is my tenth year writing this blog. It has been a beautiful was to force myself to look for God in my life every single day for a season.  And,  I do find those traces and inspirations that point me towards Christ and the life he calls me to live.  I've been convicted and wrestled with my darkness.  But if I'm going to be completely honest,  I always have this glimmer of hope that somehow if I search hard enough and faithfully enough,  God will show up in a flash of lightning,  in a dream,  a whisper,  a certain undeniable moment. I want clarity on my   steps in life or affirmation that I'm doing what I should be doing or just the awesome presence of the divine that make believing and trusting so much easier. I want to be Thomas seeing the risen Jesus face to face. To see the nail holes.  To touch him. 

No Jesus fireworks this year. No brilliant revelations that assure me that I'm walking in step with my maker. Just the steady practices of faith - scripture, prayer,  meditation, trying to mold my heart and character after Christ. Failing and trying again. Looking for moments to shine my light and grieving all the darkness that is out there. 

I'm a little disappointed that this doesn't get easier year after year.  I'm a little disappointed that God is still just beyond my reach. 

But still I trust. Still I hold the rhythm and story of this sacred time close to my heart. Still I let myself be drawn to and shaped by the mystery of Christ. 

Two more days and we relive the story again.  May it come alive to you and me in new and different ways.  May the coming joy of Easter well up in each of our hearts.

Day 38: life is so hard

Today, I read an update for a friend whose tiny daughter is fighting cancer,  an obituary for my sister in laws step father who just passed,  gave groceries to another friend getting on her feet.  

Life is so full of hardship. I think about the war.  People struggling to survive.  I think about rising prices and supply chain problems that are causing scarcity and in some places hunger.  Our world is broken. 

Jesus walked a broken road in a broken world to a cross full of sorrows.

But there is something past the cross. 

Something past the brokenness. 

We're journeying through this most holy of weeks,  holding all the brokenness in our hearts.  Waiting with disciples with just as many questions, with hope and desperation.  They didn't comprehend God's plan... Jesus didn't upset the Roman empire and restore David's throne. I don't fully comprehend God's plan either.  

I feel like a disciple sometimes.  I want a short cut.  I want the straight forward path where God comes and banishes all heart ache forever. Life should be easy.  The world should be put together. 

But something happened between Good Friday and Easter morning.  Something I still struggle to get my head around.  God has a plan for all our brokenness.  There is light beyond our pain.  Peace beyond our thrashing.  Hope beyond our desperation.

The disciples met the risen Lord on the road to Emmaus. Today, I pray for my own road to Emmaus where I can walk with Jesus and he can tell me everything. 

For now,  I hold the brokenness with a deep longing. The cross is still ahead.  But,  so is Easter. 

Day 37: singing off key

We've been practicing for a couple of months.  I had wanted the boys to try singing at church, they picked the song "He reigns" by newsboys and were interested in giving it a try. 

The song is deceptively tricky with its timing and nuanced chord progression, but the chorus is easy and catchy.  The boys decided to split up verses,  each singing one and all of them joining the refrain.  We practiced with the recording but didn't have the opportunity to do it with church musicians until this morning.  We don't mean to have judgement about imperfection but we're surrounded by polish and so the imperfect is notic

We weren't the Von Traps. But the boys were joyful, they knew the words,  they (mostly) for the tune and timing down and they followed the plan for who was singing what.  They got up in front of the church and sang. It was a little off. 

We're used to everything being so edited that we expect little kids to sound like those perfect child recordings or all of our doodles to look like the time lapse art that we see on social media. We aren't intentionally judgemental,  we are just so surrounded by editted, polished everything that imperfection stands out in our world.  

We have an internal reflux to fix things. To point out the missed timing,  the off pitch note. There's a place for that. 

But today,  my boys taught me there's a place for imperfect gifts. 

They didn't notice the errors in the performance,  nor were they overly proud. They treated church like any other day.  They just did something a little extra special.  I think it was between them and God. They had practiced hard.  They gave a good effort. 

God loves imperfect gifts given from the heart.

Day 36: adjusting back to life

The feeling of returning from vacation is this strange moment where you transistion from extraordinary back to ordinary. For me,  today it was checking in my plants and chickens,  unpacking the car,  looking at my planner and getting my mind around the upcoming week.  It was adding RV maintenence to my to do list and thinking about what else needed to be done before we put the RV back in storage. 

  This moment of touch down,  returning to life comes after vacation or a long weekend. It comes after a big game or Christmas or long awaited birthday party.  It happens after birth, after getting married,  after gradation, after the death of a loved one.  You go from a time cut off from the world,  suspended in moments that form you,  then you go back to school,  to work,  to the daily grind of living.  

In these moments, I have to put myself back together. I remember the past... what was happening before and what I need to take care of. But I also have to rearrange the pieces of myself and create space for new pieces... the pieces changed by those moments outside of normal life.  I have to make sense of my new normal.  Coming back from vacation,  my new normal is the same as it was, just a few new to do items.  But after the birth of a child or the loss of a loved one,  the new normal is completely upside down,  backwards and inside out from what life was before. I can hardly even ferment what I thought was important before. 

Sometimes,  moments with God are like this.  Outside of time,  separate from ordinary life and then... I have to come back to myself and take the pieces and rearrange my life around a new direction or a new self.   It's hard to do this.  There's a disconnect between "normal" life and "God moments." 

A new baby forces change. It's an uncomfortable transistion to sleeplessness and selflessness. But quiet moments with God are not so forceful. Up in the mountain top, everything is clear.  But as I muddle back to life, somehow I get less certain... confused. .. longing to just go back to the mountain. 

Tomorrow is palm Sunday.  The disciples are about to step out of life to journey with Jesus to the last supper, to huddle together at the terror of the events that play out in his last day and dump them out in the locked upper room where they gathered together and tried to figure out what's next. 

Holy week is an invitation to join the disciples on this journey.  To be blown apart by Jesus and stand on Easter morning scratching our heads wondering how to rearrange life around what God is doing. It takes time. Easter is a season that ends with Pentecost.  The pouring of the holy spirit who helps us organize the pieces and become the new creation.  Between now and then,  it is part of the journey to feel unsettled or confused. Those early disciples definitely were. 

May this week blow me apart and push me to consider how the pieces of my every day normal life are changed by it. 

Amen. 

Lent day 35: The nature of dragons

The boys love a book series called Wings of Fire that explores good vs evil in a complex web of relationships.  An interesting twist is that each book is written from the perspective of a different dragon so you can hear the thoughts and motivations behind different characters.  Sometimes re-covering parts of the plot as seen through different eyes. 

There is a dragon called Dark Stalker who has special powers of reading minds,  seeing the future and magic that basically gives him god-like powers. There is a warning that using powers like that can ruin your soul and turn you evil.  And,  of course,  Dark Stalker, becomes the super villan. But in the book, written from his perspective,  dark stalker is relatable, likeable and his decisions seem understandable. 

There is a unspoken question that the books raise.... is it possible to have infinite power and not be corrupted by it? It's the little everyday selfish nature in ourselves that tells us how we would handle power. How do we handle the power we already have - our intelligence,  our money, our influence? Do we use it for ourselves or do we give it away freely to help humanity? 

I don't think there are super villans lurking inside most of us.  But I think we are predisposed to put ourselves first and that with money and power we are tempted to benefit ourselves at the expense of others,  especially if the expense of others is conveniently hidden. How much do we destroy the earth or exploit the poor in our daily lives? Of course,  we don't overly do it,  we don't even see it. Some invisible evil corporations do it. Surely if we examine our decisions and actions where we know the outcome. Do we tell harmless lies? Do we compromise our ethics to make people like us or to make life more convenient? Not to hurt anyone of course,  just out off convenience. Is that where corruption begins? Does that nature inside us grow as power, influence and wealth increases?

Day 34: Breaking Lent

Heading out on our family trip, I took a deep breath thinking about what a road trip would be like given the things we've given up for lent this year:

- Mcdonald's (family)

- Tablets (kids)

- scrolling social media (me)

- Caffeine (me)

- all drinks besides water (me)

if I'm honest,  the list above is a significant part of road tripping.  The kids get time on their devices during long drives while I sip my diet coke and scroll Instagram.  The glorious break from motherhood. 

I was pleasantly surprised,  as we started out on our trip, at how well the boys entertained themselves during our long drives.  I still missed my diet coke but vacation was going well. 

We decided to get a hotel room for a night so the kids could go swimming.  They swam for hours. When the last water soaked boy climbed out of the pool,  the crying and fighting began. Everyone was HANGRY. 

The hotel was next to a Sonic. The boys had never tried it.  So we decided to walk over and check it out.  Miles eyes jumped out of his head as he scanned the menu finding a bright picture of a corn dog. "I'm having a corn dog!!" He exclaimed.  

I pressed the button to order and the reply came,  "we're short staffed. Only taking drive thru orders." "But we're on foot" I replied.  "Maybe we can get to you in 15 minutes.  No promises. "

I looked at the kids.  They were squirrelly.  No way would they last 15 minutes. Miles eyes beamed with excitement.  I looked around.  What other choices were there? Jack in the box, gas station, Walmart and Mcdonald's.  I turned to the kids.  "This is going to be a very long wait. Do you want to try Jack in the box instead?" I asked. 

 "Do they have corn dogs?" Miles asked. 

 "No,  but you can get chicken nuggets and fries. "

 "OK. I'll be flexible. " 

We headed over to Jack in the box.  As we neared the door,  we noticed a small sign.  

LOBBY CLOSED.  DRIVE THRU ONLY. 

I turned to the boys. "This is closed.  Do you want to see if the gas station has corn dogs?"

We turned again and headed to the gas station. We clambered in and headed to the concession area.  NO CORNDOGS. Miles started crying.  What now?

We headed out of the gas station and stood in the parking lot. "Do I suggest we break Lent and go to Mcdonald's?" Miles was falling apart.  He was sobbing. Starving.  Across the street,  I could see people inside.  The lobby was open.  

I thought of Jesus collecting wheat during the sabbath. 

I sat the kids on the curb.  

"Guys,  I think this is a moment where we make an exception about Lent.  Miles is so sad and I think we need to get food for him. " 

They nodded. 

"Miles,  would Mcdonald's chicken nuggets be OK?"

He blinked away tears and looked into my eyes.  Really? His little face seemed to ask. I grabbed his hand. 

"Yes" he said quietly as he stood up to walk to Mcdonald's. 

We all walked over to Mcdonald's quietly. Sometimes breaking Lent teaches as much as keeping it does. 

Day 33: in defense of Martha

 As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

My kids destroy our RV at least twice a day during our trips.  Someone has to prepare meals,  prepare beds,  prepare the cabin for travel.  I find myself occasionally buried in resentment. 

Why do I have to be the only one who does this???

Often when I feel this way, this story of Martha and Mary pops into my mind and forces me to think about the moment.  Do I need to be cleaning right now? Am I missing something important?

But I also want to yell back at Jesus,  "of course Martha would love to sit there and listen,  but SOMEBODY has to feed everyone and make sure the essentials are taken care of.  It isn't magic Jesus. Not all of us have the option of performing a miracle"

There is a time to let the dishes stay dirty in sink,  to grab a quick snack instead of making a meal,  or skipping a bath to catch an important life memory.  Of course there is.  But the rest of the time,  the Martha's of the world make everything work.  They make sure we are fed and comfortable,  clean and have a good place to sleep. They are silent in the background working hard to make the beautiful moments in life happen. 

I can choose Mary moments,  but the world needs Martha. 

Day 32: into the wilderness

I was never much a fan of the desert. It seemed unnecessarily dangerous - hot,  waterless,  full of poisonous snakes. Void of life and with no real reason to go there.  Why would Jesus go out into the desert to pray? 

My boys love the desert.  Open space,  cool rocks,  things to climb,  lizards to catch and best of all being a million miles away from everyone and everything.  

Desert trips open my soul in a unique way.  There are few distractions here.  There is a type of isolated boredom and lifeless beauty that I have not found anywhere else.  It's hours and hours of down time that create space for me to listen to God in an unforced or unfocused way.  It is a meditation of rock and open space.  

I can't imagine 40 years or even 40 days wandering in the desert but that would surely be enough to turn the heart and open the soul to a new call or direction.  

Spring break for the boys is another desert trip and a I watch them scamper on hills and dig in the sand I quietly open my heart to listen to what the spirit might whisper. 

Day 31: where everybody knows your name

I went to the park with Zander this morning.  We go a few times a week,  sometimes every day.  I recognized moms who have a similar routine with similar aged children. 

Last year,  while homeschooling,  parks were closed.  I had a different routine.  The boys and I would walk a long route to get groceries and occasionally stop at a few shops or get McDonald's breakfast.  Again,  I got to recognize workers in the shops and other people who had the same routine. 

Before the pandemic,  my routine mostly consistently of morning drop off, work, afternoon pickup and home for therapy and homework. I would sometimes take evening walks in the neighborhood. But life was much busier. 

As I walked home from the park I started reflecting on this and the rise of loneliness in our society. I realized how isolating modern life can be.  Too busy to develop routines in places that allow strangers to become familiar.  Turning instead to social media, which is available 24 hours a day conveniently during the scraps of time leftover from all the other activities of life. 

Social media is addicting for me because it is an easy way to connect.  Our brains are (mostly) wired to be interested in other people's lives,  to feel a sense of reward when someone likes our comments on something in our lives.  We are wired for connection. 

These days when I walk,  there are a lot more strangers that I recognize. Familiar faces that smile in recognition as our eyes meet.  Quick greetings and short small talk.  These things add up to tell me,  I belong. People know me here. 

God lives in connection.  My favorite illustration of the trinity come from the book "The shack" which portrays God as three people in perfect relationship. Created in that image, a sense of belonging is core to who we are.  

Life keeps speeding up,  the farther we press on pass the pandemic.  Pushing up make up for lost time and lost productivity. I am quick to want to speed back up too. But it is important to remind myself that some of the rhythm I've developed over the past couple years is important as a way of grounding me in the place I live.  

Day 30: could have used some caffeine today

After the 1st few days of adjusting,  I haven't really missed caffeine that much. I've missed the ritual of drinking good drinks. I've missed those quiet few minutes quite a bit.  But the caffeine was just a fun bump in energy. 

Until today...

Zander has new teeth coming in and a cold on top of that.  I was up all night.  Like watching shows and playing trains up. 

I knew I was going to be tired.  I had a lot on my to do list, but no caffeine to erase the sleepless night. 

I was not productive today.  On the couch with a cranky baby, thinking about my list. 

I'm naturally am ambitious kind of person.  I'll make my first to do list then I'll figure out how to add 3 more things.  Having children has been a long lesson in unproductivity. Children need me to be present.  They need my mind open and curious.  They need me not to be preoccupied with other thoughts.  This is hard for me. 

Some days after a full mothering day,  I look at a messy house and un-finished  to do list and wonder what I did with myself. 

I grew up placing a lot of value on hard work,  good grades,  doing all the right things and generally achieving things.  I feel unequipped for how to process activities that are deeply valuable and important but far from practical.  I've had to teach myself,  there are better things.  I've had to teach myself how to be unproductive. 

No caffeine means I can't artificially increase my energy and power through a day when I'm actually just exhausted.  

God values me for who I am,  simply.  I don't need to do all the things. Tomorrow is a new day,  my list will be there.  Tonight, I'll just be. 

Day 29: Longing

Faith has been a central part of my identity since before I could remember. One of my earliest memories was being jealous that adults got to have snack with God, but I couldn't. 

As I grew,  I felt so sure that God was with me wherever I went.  God was a 3rd parent,  invisible,  ever present. I had a boldness and knew what my call was and was determined to follow it. 

Then one day,  it all crashed.  I felt God leave and the certainty that defined my entire life disappeared.  I prayed and prayed. It was like knocking on a hard thick wooden door. No answer.  

I stayed steady with the call. I followed the plan in blind faith. Reminding myself that blessed are those who believe even if they do not see.  Still, though,  I prayed.  I wanted to feel God near me again.  I wanted faith to illuminate the day in and day out of my living. 

And one day,  I felt God working in my life again. I knew with deep certainty that I was in the right place and doing what I was called to do.  And in that moment,  my call changed. Nervous,  I turned my life in a new direction trying to get my head around a new call.  This one was fuzzy.  It wasn't as clear as my previous chapter in life has been.  It wasn't as exciting either. But in faith,  I changed course and took each day at at time watching a new call unfold in my life. 

As I did,  God's presence seemed to fade out of my life. My faith didn't, but the certainty that God was close by in a way I could tangibly feel.  For a long time I've been praying to feel that presence again but so far God is distant. 

I've read that Mother Theresa and other people of great faith have had similar experiences. Faith as a practice,  as a commitment,  as a way of living even if the feeling is far away. I have grown in faith because of it.  I have had to depend on scripture and faith practices to learn and grow. I've had to learn to trust God was present among us even when we can't perceive it. 

Still,  there is a longing.  I look for God's footprints and fingerprints wherever I go. And Lent is a time when I can often attune myself better to the rhythms of grace.  

Day 28: counting to infinity

My kids are into big numbers. "What's bigger than a trillion? What's bigger than a Googol? What's bigger than a Googolplex? How far away is the moon,  the sun,  the center of our galaxy, the farthest star we can see?" 

YouTube has a hugecatalog of videos that count to infinity and visualize how big these numbers are.  We've watched so many of them.  They also like to watch videos that help you imagine what a 4 dimension object passing through our 3 dimensional space might look like. These videos can make my brain hurt as I try to bend my limited world perspective to wrap around things much bigger or smaller or in more dimensions.  My brain begins to hurt.  There is so much that exists that I cannot interact with or truly understand. It's just too big or too small or outside my perception. 

"As far as the east is from the west, so are my ways from your ways. "

"With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day."

“I am the Alpha and the Omega, says the Lord God, who is and who was, and who is to come. The Almighty"

“From heaven the Lord looks down and sees all mankind; from his dwelling place he watches all who live on earth…”

Thinking about an infinite God, heaven or eternity can't feel like standing at the edge of an abyss that is so deep you can't see to the bottom.  It becomes obscured by a blackness as the light is swallowed up in the largeness. It is a dizzying feeling and I slowly back away.  

The universe is so vast and has been around for so long, and yet what we know of size and time is dwarfed next to the infinite nature of God. This hurts my mind. 

But somehow it is comforting.  Whenever I feel like I have a hard time understanding God or faith or the mysteries of faith, I am comforted by how big and far into the universe, we as humans can understand and how much bigger still is the nature of God.  

In my daily life I tend to picture God as some disembodied human type being.  Maybe some old man in the clouds. On more enlightened days, I think of God as wind,  everywhere at once touching everyone but invisible. Or light that comes from some far corner of the universe and reaches me as warmth and illumination. But these are imaginations of God within  point of reference that I can get my head around. 

God is bigger still than the most infinite abstractions that I can conjur up in my imagination. 

And so Jesus.  A man, with a mother who ate and drank and wept and flipped over tables.  A bridge to connect humanity with the infinite nature of God. Jesus spoke with stories and shared food around tables.  And yet,  Jesus was enigmatic. As much as I can hold Jesus in my imagination,  He escapes my ability to know him really.  His words,  his life,  his stories.  There are these twists and bits that don't fully resolve that point to the eternal,  unknowable nature of God. 

As I scratch my head and wonder, my mind lands back as the famous words of Paul, 1 Corinthians 13:

For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes,what is in part disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

Day 27: Taming mama bear

I have a Lent project to increase my gentleness with my family - reduce sarcasm,  yelling, losing control,  losing patience.  I had enough foresight to know that I would fail if I claimed to give up these things full stop.  Rather,  I decided to bring my awareness to myself and note the times that I didn't act how I wanted to with my kids or husband. 

I learned something about myself. 

The most common situation where I don't act as I desire is when one of my kids hurts another one physically or emotionally.  I realize that there's a mama bear inside that is visceral and roars whenever one of my babies gets hurt.  Oh course these are small hurts and so they are also small roars.  But it is really hard to stop and think and choose my course of action intentionally in these situations.  

I have an instinct to protect my Littles.  

How do you rewire instinct? 

Should I even try? 

Some things are deep in our human nature.  

Hunger, sex, bonding with our babies,  breastfeeding, gaining our independence from our parents. Some of these tenancies are seen as virtuous,  others sinful,  still others neutral that can bend either way. 

Being a strong mama bear is generally considered a good thing.  I advocate for my children.  I protect them.  I love them fiercely.  But the flip side is that instinct causes me to loose touch with my rational brain for a moment and I'm not the person I want to be while a burst of fight or flight surges through me.  

For now,  I'm focusing on drawing my awareness to patterns to search for ways to rewrite my script and leaning into grace for the rest.  

Day 26: 5 stages of all- you- can- eat

Andrew decided to buy a date with mom to an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet with a goal to trying new foods.  

His eyes were wide as we toured the buffet tables, hungry and eager to try everything.  After the grand tour,  he grabbed a plate and had to make the big decision of where to start. 

He headed to the table with the heavy plate overcome with excitement. He tried this and that.  We talked about what was good.  What wasn't.  What he should get more of. He started slowing down.  Tried some deserts and then slowly rolled back in his chair with that post- Thanksgiving face staring up at a large TV on the wall. A few minutes later,  he looked sick.  He was almost in pain as we walked to the car.  "Why didn't you tell me about this part. " he mumbled.  I told him the stomach pain would ease,  then he would get sleepy,  then,  surprisingly,  he would get the munchies. 

It's easy to go too far - work too much,  sleep in too long,  over eat. The meter slips from not enough to just a bit more to omg way too much in just a few bites. Andrew's naive 1st go round at the buffet is funny because we've all been there.  I was cracking up all day watching him and pondering this near universal human experience. 

It felt like a sermon. Such a clear simple peek into human nature. 

By the time you reach my age,  you've learned the ropes of a buffet place and generally manage to leave without quite so much pain (though you still don't want to have an honest review of the calories). As we get older,  we learn both how to moderate and how to suppress bad feelings that come from overeating.  We don't wear it on our sleeves quite the way Andrew did today. 

Kids are such a great mirror.  They are like the exaggerated version of all my inside feelings.  Day didn't go right,  lay down on the floor and have a full tantrum. Some one takes my toy,  punch them in the face and take it back.  There is an honesty to their human nature that makes it easy to see what needs correcting. 

So we are taught. 

I think we focus a lot on fixing behaviors so that we don't get in trouble rather than working on the root. I've definitely come a long way from where I was a a toddler but I'm still working on keeping my emotions in check, loving my neighbor as myself, sharing and saying nice things,  taking care of nature and cleaning up messes that I make.... and remembering not to eat so much that it hurts if I go to a really good buffet. 

God,  help me see myself simply.  Help me to recognize my inner child and show her grace.  Help me to work on my inside as much as I work on the outside so I can be transparent as a child. 

Amen.

Day 25: Living out of God's abundance

For our new years resolution we started a habit tracking app with the kids called habitica.  It's a video game that you play by doing chores.  The more you do,  the more you level up in the app. 

One aspect of the game is the ability to earn gold coins which you can use to buy new armor and weapons for your character.  You can also use the coins to "buy" a real life reward. 

We've used the coins as a way for kids to buy special things - a snack during homework, an outing to a restaurant,  king for the day,  sleepover on the couch bed, etc.  I come up with creative ideas and assign them a coin value and the kids get excited to see rewards show up. 

This past week was the school book fair.  I added "book fair purchase" into the app store.  I told the kids they could buy anything they wanted, they just needed to add a zero to the price.  I told them we would go to the fair on Friday and they would have the week to look around and think about what they wanted to buy. 

Friday came and the boys rushed into the book fair. They went straight for the cheap doodads - pens, erasers, stuff like that.  I browsed the books and watched them shopping.  

Eventually,  Philip came up to me with tears.  He wanted to buy a dogman book,  but he didn't want to spend his coins.  He had saved 1,000 coins.  The book would have cost him 100, but it felt like too much.  So he left with just a pen. I was there with him. I could have bought any book. I was proud of his thriftyness. But I also thought about my life.  If I knew God was walking around with me with enough resources for anything in my heart,  would I still choose a pen?

What would we choose if we leaned into God's abundance? What would we do with our time?  Money? Heart? 

I feel like sometimes I get stuck in small thinking.  I don't even go for the books... thinking they are out of reach...I chose a nice pen and call it good enough. 

If I could see God walking with me,  I know I would live more generously.  I would make different choices about how I spend my time and my money.  

Day 24: Faith and anxiety

I struggle with anxiety at night. 

When my mind is awake and I'm going about my day,  my brain is relatively in control.  I've worked hard on mental health and gathered a lot of tools to support emotional agility.  But, at night,  as I power down my brain,  the part of me that is in charge of the ship punches out and my unruly thoughts can spin out of control. Sometimes this leads to insomnia or anxiety or full panic attacks.

I've noticed that the intensity tends to be seasonal and I have the hardest time in the months leading up to my birthday and to the new year when I'm more reflective about life - purpose, aging,  etc - and less in busier seasons of spring and fall. 

Laying off caffeine this lenten season has had the wonderful side effect of causing me to fall asleep faster.  That,  combined with the onset of spring and I've had almost perfect nights (well except for a baby who won't sleep 🙄)

But a few nights ago, my mind fell into one of those grooves and I had to work through it.  

I was disappointed.  

Lent has been pretty spiritually enriching this year. I haven't made any amazing revelations or anything but I have felt moments of God drawing near.  Writing this blog as journal every night has felt, like it always does,  as a very intentional practice of reflecting on God in that very day and moment.  So how could I go from that directly to anxious thoughts as I fall asleep?

I've been thinking about this over the past few days and the role anxiety plays in my spiritual life. 🤔 

I have two big thoughts on the matter:

1. My uninhibited thoughts at night can be a signpost for where I need to further work on my faith. 

2. Anxiety is not a failure of faith but an invitation to choose faith even when I can't access it in the moment.  

A few of my boys inherited my insomnia and I've been helping them to work through night time thoughts and ways to relax to sleep.  

Middle of the night thoughts are hard. But there is no place where God does not rest with us.  

Day 23: making the garden grow

Maybe two weeks ago,  the chickens got into my greenhouse and ate most of my seedlings. I felt like giving up on a garden this year.  The chickens have ruthlessly destroyed any edible plant in my backyard.

I've been at war with the chickens for a few months.  I bought a gate to confine them to a smaller part of the yard.  They promptly flew over it. Attempt after attempt.  Chicken escape.  Chicken droppings all over my yard.  

Finally, I found a tall foldable fence that was long enough to make a secure pen in a smaller section of the yard reclaiming my garden and backyard play area. In celebration,  I went to the nursery and bought a few new plants and started some new seedlings in my greenhouse. 

The weather here has turned warm.  Tuesday was 84 degrees. The boys stripped to their underwear and played in the hose. I worked the soil.

Gardening is an endless hobby.  There is so much to learn about each plant. Sun,  water,  soil, pruning -- where to plant what and how to care for the garden and keep everything alive.  Ideally with nice flowers and fruits.  I pick up some tidbits from books, some from YouTube with the kids and conversations with other gardeners.  But if I'm going to be honest,  most knowledge comes from experiments, mistakes and failed attempts.  

I'm on my 3rd (and final) attempt with berries. The sun here is too intense and it scorched my first bush.  I planted my second bush in the shade under my giant pine tree.  It did much better there.  It lasted several years but never thrived enough to produce more than a few fruit.  It was in a bed with succulents, so I suspect that it didn't get enough water. This time,  I've planted to new fruit trees in a semi shaded area.  It is  protected from the harshest sun and I'm setting up a watering system to baby the new fruit trees and help them get established.  Maybe the berries can come along for the ride. 

Gardening is full of many small disappointments and joys. Plants that take off and fill the space with vibrant green.  Seeds that fail to germinate in pots.  Flowers that paint the landscape.  A favorite friend that gets attacked by insects.  I am so fully aware of a partnership I have with nature.  I have to do my part to care for the plants. But life will grow and choose its own path.  I contribute but I cannot will my garden to thrive.  

I am humbled by the amazing complexity that God has arranged in a normal garden.  Microscopic bacteria and fungi that interact with elements and minerals in the soil.  Larger creatures,  worms, ants, roly-polys, Bees and butterflies play roles almost as large as mine in the care and future success of the plants.  Other plants,  air,  water,  sun,  shade.... even the chicken poop all contribute to the success of raising tiny seeds into a vegetable harvest. 

God calls us to be interdependent.  Each playing our own role in life's garden. I may plant seeds.  I may do my best to nurture growth in myself and others.  I may even be cleaver enough to crash some sort of watering system to make sure my life's work gets ongoing nurturing, but I'm just one of many who work together to help the garden grow. Even for my 5 boys. 

I'm sitting in their room as they fall asleep and I think of all the people that God has brought into our life to nurture their little selves - extended family, grandparents, teachers,  therapists, friends,  strangers.  Moments that help make them.  Year after year,  I do my work as a mother.  Pruning,  watering, feeding,  and observing. Striving to understand them as best as I can.  Striving to maintain an environment that will help them thrive.  But without all those other amazing people they surely wouldn't be doing as well as they are. 

I get so caught up in my own story,  I often overlook the complex interdependent web of players that build this amazing world we live in.  It's mind numbing when you think about all the people that make each day of our lives possible - construction workers who build our houses and roads. engineers who design everything we touch,  truckers who bring us stuff and food,  water treatment,  energy workers,  doctors,  mail carriers,  grocers. We don't do any of this alone. We all have our part to play. 

And God is there in the relationship,  in the interdependence in the messy hand off and trade off that we all are trying to figure out to make life work. God helps us come together so the garden can thrive. 

May I find and do my small part. Amen.  

Day 22: finding courage to shine a little light

I was 26. Just started dating my husband.  It was Lent.  An acquaintance from church invited us to watch each of the Harry Potter movies throughout the lenten season.  Over that time,  we became good friends.  We had faith sharing,  life sharing moments.  

Fast-forward a few years.  We had moved to Livermore. I was knee deep in house renovations. A close friend asked me if I'd be a duala to help welcome her baby girl.  Honored,  I agreed. Some weeks later, my Harry Potter asked if I would come to her wedding just a few days from m my other friend's due date. My insides ached.  If there was a moment to be in two places at once.  Maybe the baby would come early and I could make both events. 

I was so excited about the wedding.  I painted a picture for the bulletin.  I wanted so bad to be there. 

The day drew close and the baby came right on time.  That birth was one of the most beautiful things I had ever witnessed.  But my heart fell as the wedding day came, right on its heals. I got a call from the bride and realized that she didn't have a wedding party really but a few close friends with her.... one of whom should have been me. 

Years have passed.  We both had babies,  professional and personal adventures. We grew up.  We grew apart.  I followed her on Facebook. Deep in my heart,  I always carried guilt about missing her wedding. I could find words to say.  I wasn't sure there were any.  

One day during the lockdown of 2020, my phone rang. My friend's bright voice on the other side. We ranted about having kids home all the time and work and the craziness of the pandemic. And time erased.  Guilt erased.  In a lonely time,  I had a friend.  We met up and traveled together with our families over the summer. We had an epic adventure.  Our kids climbed rock formations in the badlands and we barbecued on the open prairie. Her calls were a priceless gift that unlocked beautiful memories for both of us and our families. 

Life is so busy and everyone has so much on their to do list I find it intimidating to pick up the phone and call someone.  It feels intrusive.  How could I possibly time a phone call when someone would actually have time to talk. Social media is way easier.  I can look at photos of what they've been up to and not have awkward conversations.  I can make uplifting comments after reading and rereading posts. Facebook even nearly reminds me of birthdays. 

Social media doesn't do what my friend did. She called.  I didn't really have time to talk at that moment. The kids were running amuck. But I locked myself away and stole time for her call.  I needed it,  like water. 

Every time I think of her,  I feel brave.  I feel like fighting for friendship and connection.  I feel like guilt or being busy are just not good enough reasons to stop trying.  I can brighten someone's day by reaching out.  So today,  I did that.  I wrote a card.  I texted a former work colleague.  I walked with another mom from my kids school.  I messaged with my cousin about her upcoming wedding.

It's easy to shy away from shining a light.  It's easy to say "it won't matter anyways" or "they might not want to hear from me" It's a little scary and a little vulnerable to open the lines for connection.  It leaves the possibility of rejection. 

But the world needs our light. 

It needs connection. 

It needs us to be brave. 

Even just a little. 

Day 21: Can we be done with Lent yet?

It's Monday. I got up and started the usual routine.  Got kids ready for school. Packed lunches.  Dropped everyone off. Inside,  I felt fragmented.  I didn't have a clear plan for the week,  just a lot of random to do that needed to be planned into the week. 

I looked forward to sitting at the dining room table in a quiet house to write out a week plan. I'm an avid bullet journalist.  Bullet journals mix art and planning as you doodle custom pages for to do lists,  goal tracking and visual notes.  For me,  accessing the free form creative side of my brain while planning allows me to be in touch with the bigger picture.... and to be honest,  it's the only art I have time to attempt to make. 

Zander and I arrived home and he immediately threw a fit almost to say, "Mooooooooom, it's so nice out.  We neeeeeeeeed to go to the park. " So,  I threw my journal and pens on top of the stroller, grabbed some headphones and we jogged to the park.

The park was empty.  Zander got busy running a loop around the playground.  I sat on a bench and pulled out my journal.  Almost on cue, Zander came up to me and whined to be picked up.  We played a bit and I packed him in the stroller and we headed off for groceries. 

Another jog and a stroller loaded down with produce later,  we arrived home.  Zander was asleep so my chance to plan in peace had arrived. I went to the stroller.  Gone.  My journal was gone.  I must have left it at the park.  

There wasn't enough time to get it before I picked up Miles,  so I got some house work and gardening done.

Inside my thoughts and emotions whirled.  I felt confused,  lost.  It wasn't about the week plan.  It was Lent.  Sometimes around the mid point I start feeling a little lost and today,  that feeling hit me,  right on time.  With my missing planner, emblematically serving as a cornerstone to the day. 

The world felt so big to me.  It felt like to much effort to do all the things - build a home,  build community,  serve the poor, donate,  give.  I felt called to something more than what I'm doing but all the more that is out there feels too big and I my time is so broken up by the demands of motherhood that I feel like couldn't give enough.  I felt ashamed.  I know there should be more. But how,  where,  what???

I always hope that I'll have a lenten discipline and do all the right things and God would just come down out of the sky and give me a mission or an orientation on how I should be viewing my life.  

But no... that's not how God usually works. That's not how Lent works.  Jesus fasted 40 days in the wilderness.  He was hungry.  The devil came with short cuts to faith.  Jesus saw through it. 

Faith isn't always clear or easy.  Sometimes it is wandering around blindly while we're over hungry and over tired only to emerge in the same place where we started. Faith is definitely not linear.  

So tonight,  when I'm not sure of where I'm going or what I'm doing or what this Lent is teaching me.  I'll pray the words of st Francis:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

where there is sadness, joy.

O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

Amen.

Day 20: Going home

My family moved a lot growing up and didn't settle into the family house until I was 16 and heading out the door.  For me,  the memory of home was wherever my family was.  

I felt comfortable in a lot of places and when I traveled in my early 20s, I felt at home in Haiti and West Africa.  I was different and out of place but not really any more than I had been my whole life and in some ways those places etched into the geography of my heart in a special way because they were the places that I became me.  Where I became independent and formed my view of the world.  

Then,  I moved to Davis,  California and the whole town wrapped around me and cradled me.  For the first time in my life,  I found community.  I was among my people and I belonged.  Those days gave the word home a new definition.  It was the place you just belonged. 

Fast forward 10 years.  

We moved to Livermore and started out family.  I searched for community the way we had it in Davis, but it was elusive. We fixed up an old house and hung our pictures on the wall. We had children.  We started out business. More babies came.  The ebbs and flows of life.  Ups and downs.  I've lived here longer than anywhere.  And found another meaning for home.  It is the place you make life happen.  The place that fills your memories. 

I still call Michigan home when people ask.  My family is still there. My roots are there.  It is the wilderness that I grew up with.  The plants and animals are more deeply known.  Home is the place you know inside and out.

We bought this old house as a starter home when it was just the two of us and Eddie.  We've grown a lot as a family since then and we're pushing the limits of this small house. We've been thinking about eventually moving.  Maybe to the country where there is more space for these puppies of mine to run free.  But the process has gotten me thinking about what type of place is home. 

With all the years that have changed us,  would Davis still be home to us or was it only for that season? Is this house become a home with memories so deep that we should just stay here?  Is there a new place out there that has all these elements of home...a place where we will just fit?

I noticed in church how often we talk of God taking us home.  How one day in death,  we will finally be home. I imagine this home.... the place where our family is,  where we belong,  where things are familiar and comfortable, the place where we will be longer than anywhere else.

One day, we all go home. 

Day 19: The effort to make community

My heart was torn all day. I woke up this morning to a message that there was a celebration of life service for a woman from my congregation that had passed away during the lockdown of 2020. It must have been in church bulletins, but I missed it. 

I had known her, not well, but I had sent a card when she went home on hospice.  I received a card back from her a day or two before she passed. 

She was heavily involved with the church.  I think she led the worship committee.  So,  when I heard about the celebration of life service,  I knew the congregation would all be there. 

With short notice, I thought about going and wondered what to do with the kids. I struggled all morning and eventually decided not to go.  But my heart felt heavy all day. Being far from home, I've missed too many weddings and funerals in my extended family. I'm from a really large catholic family and it isn't tenable for me to make everything. 

Here,  in Livermore,  I've been in the throws of raising young children and most of the time working excessive hours. Squeezed so tight, I've had very little to invest into community building. 

All day my heart has been at church,  holding a vigil for the woman who passed,  feeling grief for her passing,  for the funerals I've missed,  for the community sized hole that I've had in my heart the past many years.  In that space,  I've pondered community and the role it plays in our life and in our faith walk.  I've thought about the energy you need to put in,  the messy nature of human relationships,  the unhurried speed that you need to have to open yourself to the rhythm of community.  In so many ways, community is counter cultural to the mainstream way we are expected to live.  It made sense to me why so many churches are in decline. 

And yet,  the hole in my heart reminded me why we need community now more than ever. 

The triune God demonstrates that living in relationship is a part of God's nature and essence.  As created in God's image,  we too are meant to live in relationship.  

But it means dying to self. Taking time out of our schedule to show up.  Taking effort and energy,  patience and forgiveness.  

I don't know quite how to do it but I want to.  I am not giving up. 

Day 18: miles walks so slow

Every day when I walk miles to school,  I have to pull him to the side so that others can pass.  He floats along like a balloon meandering from place to place eventually drifting haphazardly to his destination.  

I used to be bothered by slowness.  Bothered by the inconvenience it caused others that were trying to pass or the lack of productivity.  I like to get things done. I like to check things off my list.  You can't get a lot out of your day when you are daydreaming and floating down the street. 

But miles has taught me the gentle way of slow moving. There is a place for it,  even for hurried go getters like me.  

At the start of the year I made the contious decision to let him go at his own pace and we'd get there when we get there (within reason). He doesn't like conversation really so we don't talk much.  But I look at what he looks at and try to be present with him. 

I don't think about much while we're walking but something in my deeper brain must click into place or defrangment or something. Because the slowness and maybe more importantly,  the permission to be slow starts me day with an openness to be touched or changed or greeted by God and by my work and by the world.  It opens me to some sort of possibility that is outside my plan. 

There is a season to get things done.

But there also is a time to be unhurried. 

One of so many beautiful lessons that Miles has taught me. 

Day 17: a huge hole in my heart

When I was little,  my biggest dream was to be a researcher studying the Amazon rainforest. I was obsessed . I think,  I was drawn to the place because life was so abundant there.  Life in every crack and crevasse. Unique creatures of a million varieties,  each with a special role to play. 

This morning I woke up to morning news and texts...

Bombing children in Ukraine

Amazon rainforest close to tipping point,  showing signs of turning into Savanah

A text from an alcoholic friend who is struggling

I've often heard that the word repent is to turn away from,  to go the other direction. My heart has been heavy all day with a conviction that the world needs more repentance. 

In pondering this, I started thinking about my own relationship with repentance.  Truth be told I get squirmy.  I was raised catholic until around 3rd grade.  Long enough to have my first confession.  My small self sat in a pretty sunlit chapel waiting for my turn to see the priest wreaking my brain to think of something wrong I had done and needed to confess. 

As I got older,  I grew a bit of distaste for the way the church speaks of sins and repentance on one hand and grace on the other.  It is a dialog full of shame.  A condemnation that humans are completely unworthy,  unlovable.  But God somehow in his grand majesty finds a way to pity and love us anyway.  All because Jesus died.  

This picture of God never landed quite right with me.  How could God make us bad? How could God make us unlovable but then call us his children? Does a father not see his children as inherently good? 

But just today,  as I was pondering the news and the terrible things happening in the world and the verse "the wages of sin is death" a new way of thinking about this story came to mind.

For the past few weeks,  I've been listening to Brene Brown's book called "Imperfect Parenting." The first section goes on a deep dive on the difference between guilt and shame and the use of shame as a parenting tool.  Turns out that shame is a very effective parenting tool in terms to getting your child to alter their behavior.  The problem is that shame in childhood can stay with someone for a lifetime.  Shame dims our light and cuts our wings.  

When shame tells you that you are unworthy and unlovable, guilt tells you that you are a good person who has made a bad choice.   Shame is saying, "You are stupid.  You're worthless." Guilt is "that was a really bad choice, your actions have ruined the evening. "

Coming back to repentance,  it is what you hope for your children.  You see them doing something destructive and you let them know about it and they choose a different path.  

"The wages of sin are death"

Thinking about the 10 Commandments, the ground rules, they are a simple guide to a harmonious life on earth.  All the death that echoed out of my radio this morning are the result of greed. And as I listened, I was convicted that I have things to repent for. 

I'm not outright greedy.  I don't feel shame about greed. But the simple truth is we are taking more than the earth has to give.  We are wasteful.  We waste energy and water and stuff.  Life is full of convenience and disposable items. We are collectively making bad choices. We need to turn around.  We need to go the other direction.  I need to look in my heart and find those moments when I'm prioritizing myself and my convenience at the expense of others or of the earth.  I need to get more comfortable with seeing myself in step with others and nature - getting less irritated by minor inconvenience or not having the exact right thing for the moment. Simpler living. 

It is hard to watch your friends,  your children,  your spouse or your family make bad choices.  But, we cannot control them.  We cannot force them to make good choices. They have free will. And so do we. God will let us follow destructive paths. But God has decided it doesn't have to end with our destructive choices. God calls us to turn around, to turn away from our own ways and choose God's ways. 

Peeling back more and more of myself is hard,  but our world needs us to do the hard work. I trust God to walk with me as I try to take steps in a new direction.   

Day 16: A big leap of faith

A few months ago, a close friend gave me an assignment that made me squirm. 

She asked me to ask five different people for help for things that I didn't need help with. 

I am fiercely independent by nature. Asking for help when I need help and having grace to accept help is something I've learned over the years.  But asking for help,  when I don't need help -- I found myself really uncomfortable. 

Frivolous help.  Like help when carrying groceries when I can easily carry them myself.  Why would I ever do that? Even more over,  why would I go out of my way and call people,  bother them in the middle of their day to waste their time helping me with something that I don't even need help with.  

I had to scratch my brain hard.  What could I even come up with to ask?  Did I even have 5 people that I could just call out of the blue and ask a favor of. 

The exercise took a few weeks. It was a bit uncomfortable. But I am a go getter, so when someone challenges me with something that I think is worth doing,  I'm going to figure out a way to do it.

I learned a lot from the exercise about myself and other people.  I challenged my own hidden rules after I discovered they were there.  It was a good exercise. 

The exercise inspired me to start thinking about reaching out for more help with faith.  I've very rarely asked for help with emotional or spiritual matters.  I'm a "I've got it" kind of girl. But I've realized more and more that I find God most present with me in relationship with other people.  Their stories,  affirmations, ideas, faith strengthen me in powerful ways. But to deliberately ask someone for help with my faith walk is a sort of vulnerable that makes me very squirmy inside. 

And the spirit nudges... you totally need to do this. 

So,  I got brave and I wrote an email.

 

Day 15: when a balanced life is elusive

I was listening to "The next right thing" a podcast by Emily P Freeman about making decisions and finding your next step in life.  The episode was a meditation on finding balance inspired by the coming spring equinox. The day is equal parts day and night,  light and dark. 

She talks about a science experiment you can do where you calculate the angle of the sun and at solar noon during the equinox there is a moment when a stick will have no shadow.  I don't know if the experiment works but it was a good illustration of what balance feels like in my life. Twice a year,  on some random Tuesday or Friday afternoon for about a minute,  everything is in perfect balance.  The rest of the time I'm a little off centered.  Sometimes I'm really off centered, like the poles during summer - all light or all dark. 

I feel a lot of pressure from society to stay in balance, but life doesn't seem to work that way.  It's full of stops and starts, seasons of work or play,  planning and reflexion. When I feel like I've gone too far in one direction, I feel a tug to pull the other direction. After a season of feasting during Christmas, I'm craving a season of fasting as I start Lent.  

Balance doesn't happen every day but rather over a lifetime. 

Though,  I think what people are craving when they talk about a balanced life is being right in the place where they belong.  When I'm stressed about the lack of balance in my life it usually stems from not meeting expectations - either my own or someone else's of who I should be or what I should be doing with my life.  I need to fit in All. The. Things. When I don't,  I have failed at some part of life. I'm a workaholic or lazy.  I'm too involved with my kids or not involved enough.  Not having balance can become a source of shame.  

But I think I need to remind myself that life has seasons.  And if I'm in a season of work,  that's OK. Sometimes we are called to seasons of work.  

The best news is that God is with us when we are completely off kilter. God can rest with us in our seasons of extremes and can gentlely call us back to center when we go too far.  And for those of us who have a tendancy to keep going,  even after that gentle reminder to turn around,  and we crash.  God is there in that moment too. Extending grace and compassion.