Day 33: What does faith demand of us?

How do we do anything about big hairy problems in the world - poverty,  injustice,  violence,  war,  hunger,  disease,  climate change?

Moreover, does being a person of faith require me to?

Nearly everyone I talk to cares to some degree about these issues.  Often,  I have found that those people of faith have a larger sense of obligation to help make the world better somehow. Some out of religious obligation others out of compassion and empathy for the disenfranchised. 

People often like to talk about these issues through the lens of politics.  Being informed and voting for the right leaders who will fix everything seems to be the shortest,  most direct path,  for making a difference.  Some though, are jaded by politics. Even if they believed that a given politician could make progress on issues.  Red states are red.  Blue states are blue.  Even in swing states you are most likely to live in a red or blue district and an individual vote is not likely to change the outcome. So does even voting your beliefs really contribute to change? And,  if your guy wins,  does the world really make good progress? 

Perhaps there is another way to change the world.  If you have good ideas, you could share them on social media.  Promote causes you care about. Share videos. Write heartfelt posts But then again , the internet is a giant dumpster fire filled with trolls, clickbait and algorithms that work against you. 

But what if we solved it all? Say we could all get it together and engage in civil political discourse. If we created a system that  had more parties with a broader range of views and encouraged open and honest debate.  What if we united around common human needs to feed the hungry, help the poor or fight diseases. What if we organized and collaborated and raised money and built things....

Would we get it right? 

Would we make the world better? 

Would we make the right decisions?

What if we did? What if we didn't? 

Do we bury or heads in the sand and remain ignorant to the suffering of others? 

Is that unethical?

What does faith compel us to do in the world? 

How should we orient ourselves in response to war or a pandemic or a genocide? 

What if we disagree with others who are also trying to live out their faith?

I have struggled with these questions my whole life and I do not seem to be making any progress. I feel compelled to know about suffering in the world.  I try to learn to understand the causes of problems we face as humans. Most of them are beyond my sphere of influence even if I dedicated my whole life in service to the smallest part of one of them, it would only be but a drop in the bucket.  

But even as I have matured from the optimistic youth who thought that that anyone could change the world to a middle aged woman who had a more nuanced understanding of what that means  I was so determined to make a difference. I have spent my life so far watch people try - through religious organizations, government agencies,  NGOs, startups -- and truth be told everyone helps and everyone hurts a little.  

Sometimes we all move forward,  but as history goes on,  we find ourselves falling backwards or causing new problems. Like a giant dyke, we all have our thumbs in somewhere and a new hole pops up.

Faith compels me to find my place to stick a thumb in. Why? I can't quite articulate.  Maybe simplest to say because Jesus did.  But I cannot seem to find my place.  Where is the best place to use my one and only precious thumb? 

The honest answer is probably the hole closest to me.  But i have yet to find the right right fit. I haven't given up on it. Until I do,  I feel the weight of the whole dam and all the pressure building up waiting to break through.  My heart is heavy and I feel convicted that I am not doing as much as I feel like I should. 

Day 32: Like mother, like son

My most unliked moments in parenthood  are when I see my weaknesses and flaws in my kids. It is entirely cringe when I hear them mimic things I wish I hadn't said or lose patience in the exact way I do.  I also feel that same twist in my stomach when I find myself doing things that my parents did that I swore I would never do. Sometimes,  I see my kids do something I learned from my parents and I wonder how much choice we really even have over who we become. 

There is no way to get around the fact that much of how we learn to be in a family and raise children comes from how we are raised and that most of our genetic traits are going to be just like our parents - health,  eating habits, disposition, and the like. Many of our learned behaviors,  how to handle stress,  how to cook eggs,  how to clean a room and how to brush our teeth are taught to us by our parents.  They are so inherent to how we live that I assume there is no other way to do it.  Until one day at 5, 20, 45 years old I learn there IS another way to do something or that I have been doing it a little "wrong" my whole life and my mind is blown. 

There are things that change from generation to generation - the era in which we are raised,  the general culture,  media,  the way we are taught at school,  jobs we've had, traveling,  experiences good and bad that shape our core memories and perception of the world,  books,  friends,  our spouse and the like. These things can take us far from our family of origin or not.

But even adopted children carry their birth parents DNA. Where we come from influences us.... but it doesn't define us.  We are some how completely free to choose a new life and new way of being from how we were raised and also carry in us a shaping that happened from the moment of our conception.

In my ongoing struggle with how to separate sin, character flaws and personality quirks, one of the major challenges I struggle with is what to pass on to my children intentionally,  what to intentionally try to prevent from going on in the next generation and what to leave alone and let be. While my teaching is only part of defining how they will move into the future,  it is a part that I am responsible for and I feel a responsibility to do the best I can for not only my kids but also my grandkids and for the people that they will influence in the future.

I think about struggles both I and my husband had in our teenage and college years and which were valuable lessons and which would have been better to avoid if we could go back and do it over. 

I also think about the parent's role in the moral education of children. We are all apportioned virtues such as courage,  moderation, consideration,  honesty,  charity, humility and the like differently. Some of my kids  have double portions of moderation or honesty while having half sized portions or courage or consideration.  I find the same to be true comparing myself with my siblings or parents. 

I have these first 18 years to help lay groundwork for a lifetime of growth while at the same time being stretched and grown myself. I find it daunting to know how best to use the time given the hands we were each dealt.  Some of this involves changing who I am. Wrestling with my own flaws and limitations so I can pave a way for them to follow suit.

Easiest said than done. 

Day 31: Does anyone actually have the right answer?

My family is mostly practicing Christians but our theology is all over the place. 

Because faith is so important to many of us, late night conversations sometimes, when we are brave, wander into religion.  

Listening to wide range of different points of view about God even when many of our source materials - like the Bible - are the same is a bit mind boggling. And to me, can be overwhelming. 

We have a common language that when we use it -- God, grace, sin, sanctification, heaven, satan prayer, worship, holy spirit, call, righteousness, etc - that we use, but in breaking down what we think about when we use these terms we find a tapestry of concepts and uunderstandings. 

Personally, I find this beautiful and challenging. I've long let go of the idea that faith will resolve for me. That I will figure it out and it will all make sense the way I can figure out and know how a computer works or what makes a perfect chocolate chip cookie.  

Faith is more like marriage or parenthood. Something I'm committed to but that I wrestle with. There are days I feel more confident that I'm going the right way. Other days I am sure that I am not and some days where I feel like I've lost hold of everything I thought I knew and feel like I have to start over at nearly ground zero. 

Today I'm a little overwhelmed by faith. The contradictions and opposing views. So I'm going to let it go and hold onto hope that God draws us each into the mystery, holding us close and loving us fully as we journey into the unknown. 

Day 30: Trying again

My brother and I have pretty striking differences in political and theological ideas but we are committed to and enjoy dialog.  Given how important these matters are to each of us,  there are times when feelings get hurt. But we're committed to come back and try again. Sometimes we have to try again a few times.  

In between,  there's a lot of reflecting and wrestling.  Pride and contrition. Dialogs rolling around in each of our minds. 

It is priceless to me to try to grow from these conversations and not shut them down... which would,  in fact,  be much easier for enjoying family vacations. 

The world and God are both so complex that how ever smart and educated we think we are,  there is no way to fully wrap our heads around the types of discourses.  There are always new points of views to consider,  especially ones we may consider foolish or dumb. 

Truth is one of the matters we argue over.  He stands on single knowable truth. I stand on the side of unknowable truth that has many windows into it which we can all learn from to gain a clearer picture of what it might be. 

However the case,  conversations about things like truth and values,  purpose and reason,  history and current events are a form of spiritual practice. For me they exercise a practice of humility and open my eyes to blind sources of pride. I can feel myself getting indignant as the conversation goes on and I have to search out the source of that indignation-- is it because there is a violation of my core beliefs? Is it because it want to be right and him to be wrong? Is it because those beliefs threaten things I need to be true?

In those strong feelings, I can grow. 

Especially when I need to set them all aside to reconcile with my brother. 

Day 29: The ocean

The boys jumped out of the RV and ran for the sand and straight to the waves that were barreling in.  

I think every mom has that 20 second size up. How dangerous are these waves? How close should I let them get? Are there any signs off dangerous wildlife? What is the ideal spot to set up camp so I can watch everyone?

These waves were moderately scary when we arrived but papa was ready to dive straight in with the kids while the women set camp.  

I brought my chair close enough to the waves that i could grab a kid with a dead sprint but far enough away that Zander,  who was happy to play in the sand,  would not shift his attention to water. I watched the waves roll in powerful,  thunderous.  They were little waves by ocean standards but even small ocean waves have a power that command respect.  

The sun shone. The breeze blew.  I settled into my chair and sighed deeply into a letting go. A day at the beach.  My mind empty,  watching the water and the happy children playing. I didn't even want a book.  Just to be.  Present with the water,  the smell of the salty air,  the sounds of waves lapping against the shore with the occasional bird calling in the distance,  the warmth of the sun on my skin and a cold bottle of water.  

There is something about the ocean that connects me to God. The vastness,  the power,  the beauty.  I feel small and humble next to it realizing how dangerous and life giving it is. I think about how much I know about the ocean,  but when I get up close,  I experience only a fraction of what the ocean is.  I am reminded of how much of a mystery God is.  Known but unknown.  Powerful and life giving. I am so small and as much as I can learn and practice faith, it is only a fraction of who God is or the depths of God's presence. 

But whether I understand it or not,  the ocean heals me and refills my tank in ways I cannot fully grasp.  And it is so with the spirit. Though I may not fully grasp the work,  the Spirit makes me whole and heals me in hidden ways. 

Day 28: The good side of darkness

There's something about family vacations that reminds me of Nicodemus. 

Sometimes it's a campfire. Sometimes a puzzle or a card game.  

This vacation,  it's a hot tub.  

A place to gather into the late hours of the night,  where one or two layers of the onion peels back and another level of vulnerability peeks through.  

The desire to know and to be known.  To accept and be accepted.  To understand people on a deeper level. 

I think about Nicodemus coming to Jesus at night. When the quietness unveils a window into truth inaccessible during the busyness of the day. 

So much literature and religious writing use the analogy of light and dark for good and evil.  And while that is an apt analogy,  we lose a connection to the good things that are part of the night.  

Humans are a very visual creature and we overly rely on our sense of sight.  So,  in the light,  the input is greater.  Our brains are busy processing visual information and making hundreds of micro decisions. 

At night,  it is harder to see.  We slow down and open our eyes wider.  We listen.  We feel.  We pay attention to keep ourselves safe.  With the volume turned down on our sight, we have less information to process.  We also become more present with the unfamiliar senses that connect us to the moment we are in. 

It seems also that parts of our brain become more vocal. Those connected to our mortality,  purpose,  connection,  identity.  

And when we gather around campfires and hot tubs with people who are close to us, we create space to share each other's spiritual journey.  To be the church. To hold each other up and to honor who we are were made to be.  

Day 27 : My big fat Midwestern family

 

Red eye flight. 

Lugging suitcases. 

Grocery shopping.  

Finally settled in to our airbnb with my whole big amazing noisy family. 

I have four brothers.  Between us we have 12 children. This year,  instead of Christmas,  we decided to do spring break together in Florida. No gifts to deal with.  No stress from holiday events.  More family time and more time for cousins to hang out and play. 

The kids are over the moon. Swimming every day with cousins.  Warm weather after a wet and chilly winter.  It was such a great idea and the kids are having a blast.

But there's a rub. 23 people in one place trying to organize food,  sleep,  cleaning, outings. All the different personalities and needs. Everyone belonging but everyone needing slightly different things to fill their buckets. 

We started vacation with a meeting to hammer out things logistics wise and to create space for all the voices to be heard. There were of course different ideas and different preferences but in the end we agreed upon a course of action and we're using that for now. 

Love each other as I have loved you.

Love is easy far away from people when they aren't in your space and don't annoy you. Love is harder when you are all crammed together and have to bear with each others noises and food preferences and sleep habits. Forgiveness and grace are so essential to making love work up close.  

People are messy,  relationships are messy.  And in some ways,  our culture says that we can put ourselves first. But love is about putting yourself second and coming back again and again to keep trying,  even when it is messy. 

I think there is a special difficulty in trying to mesh extended family. People are both very familiar and also not as familiar as the nuclear family. When you are raising kids,  this is next level trying to navigate kids and discipline and teaching them how to get along. 

But it is worth doing.  Coming back again and again.  Talking it out.  Trying again.  Having another meeting to hash out plans and wants and needs.  Being part of the family I come from teaches me grace and love.  Making space for everyone and making sure everyone feels like they belong. 

 

Day 26: For all the moms who do all the things

Today,  I was too busy to think about my blog post.  I jumped out of bed to get kids out the door for school.  I cleaned the house.  Honeschooled miles.  Dropped him off. Came home. Jumped on work meetings.  Ran and got pizza.  Dad and kids showed up.  We packed and got in the car to head to the airport for a red eye flight to Florida to vacation with my family. 

I sat in the passenger seat. Rain pelted the windshield as we made our way through Bay Area traffic to SFO Airport. 

My mind was completely blank.  I made it to day 26 until I got to my first head scratcher.  Not bad.... 

What pointed me to God today?

I replayed the day.  I thought about all the preparation. Getting ready for vacation.  Preparing the house to be gone.  Feeding all the creatures.  Checking on the plants... and there... it dawned on me.  

We call God father and I often forget to remember the mothering nature of God. 

Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows

Knowing every hair on the head.  That...  that summarized my day. I know that Andrew needed something soft for the red eye flight. I know the Philip needs a fidget toy and miles prefers a specific swim suit. But I also know what the chickens need,  the bugs in the terrarium and the seedlings in the greenhouse.

I know what love it takes to compel me to know every detail for my children and husband and to anticipate what they need whether they tell me or not. 

There.  That. 

God is like that. 

God knows us like a mom. Who sees us as we are and knows our needs and our preferences.  Who provides and prepares the way for us. 

If I could only trust that God takes care of me far better than I take care of them. 

And maybe,  I should thank God more often.  When we have a great mom,  sometimes we take it for granted. 

Day 26: Should I have an energy drink?

So.... I gave up soda / pop for Lent,  but I explicitly decided not to give up caffiene this year.  

This left a nice alternative to drink tea on sleepy mornings or get some Starbucks when I want to sit and work for a while.  

The last week has left me more exhausted than I can remember being in a long time and I woke up one morning especially groggy on a busy day.  It didn't feel like tea was going to cut it and a I went in the pantry to get stuff for kids lunches I found some natural energy drinks that I had gotten to try out some time ago.  

Hmmm..... it's not pop. It's surely not the diet coke that I specifically had in mind when I gave up soda for Lent.  

On the other hand,  it's not tea.  It's not really the thing I intended to drink as an alternative when I need a little pick up.  

Maybe I should have just given up caffiene all together...

These kinds of conversations are an inevitable part of a lenten practice.  To struggle with the letter of the law,  the nature of the law,  human nature.  

One point of a fasting practice is to draw awareness to our human nature. There is a surface part of will power,  but Lent is deeper than will power.  We ultimately fail at will power when we are tired or stressed.... but fasting focuses me on the hunger.  Why do I want this thing? It focuses me on the gap created by a change in routine... how is my life made different by giving up this thing? Wrestling with these questions tells me new things about myself and my relationship with God.  

I've been wrestling a lot with the nature of sin. In the old testament,  sin is pretty clearly connected to following the law. The 10 commandments and other laws in deuteronomy. In the new testament,  sin is more amorphous both more and less than the law.  

Take the commandment,  thou shall not kill. Can you think of any exceptions when it is ok to kill? When it is not a sin to kill? What about things that aren't killing that are sins that break the sentiment of this command. 

For some people,  this creates a legalistic loophole where it is possible to pick and choose parts of the law that still must be followed and which rules are no longer relevant.  For others,  this creates a tighter straight jacket of the law requiring a deeper,  unobtainable holiness. For still others,  grace allows the law to be tossed completely - I'm a sinner anyway so why try?

I think fasting ... and the law... are there to ask us questions of ourselves.  Why is my nature this way? What is good in my nature,  what is dark? What do I hunger for? What do I use to block out hard questions or deep thoughts? 

And the very moment I start to get legalistic, it's the moment I can be aware of my nature rubbing up against something.  Hmmmmm......

What's the verdict,  should I be allowed an energy drink? 

Day 25: Remembering 2020 that one time we all had Lent for a year

On March 19, 2020  The world stopped. It completely stopped. No traffic. No work. No school. No playdates. No visiting anyone. It was like any other life-changing moment when the calendar is wiped and a new agenda slowly emerges from the rubble. 

It was a chance to take stock of how we live our lives. Many people made big changes. Some moved. Some quit or changed jobs. With nothing but emptiness to fill the normally busy loud hum of routine, we were left to face our lives on a deeper level. 

I remember feeling like everyone got mandatory lent that year. We all gave up something. We gave up precious things - gathering in community for worship and celebration,  visiting loved ones,  milestone celebrations.  We gave up annoying things like commutes and trivial social obligations.  We gave up routine and normal.  Pickups and drop offs, sports practices and recitals. We gave up shopping and music and amusement parks.  We gave up school and daycare. We found time.  Empty time and the people in the house that lived with us. 

I think the lenten practice of fasting is misunderstood.  It is a very meaningful practice for me and every year,  I peel back new layers to understand the spiritual practice of fasting. At first,  I thought Lent was about giving up something that was kind of bad for you.

 "Chocolate is just a little sinful. I'll give it up for these days. "

But Lent is not some sort of punishment,  removing sinful things from life. As I got deeper,  I understood fasting to create a gap that changes life in unexpected ways. 

Fasting creates hunger. Looking at hunger with a sort of curiosity opens me to understand my heart.  If I give up music, I am hungry for beauty. If I give up lists,  I am hungry for control. This exploring of hunger is a searching of the heart.

Fasting also creates space.  There is a void. I give up music,  I have ears to hear something else,  even the silence. I give up lists,  I have time that is normally spent making lists. 

Fasting pushes me to explore my human nature,  how I rub up against the rules,  even arbitrary rules that I make for myself. It releases rebellion in me and pride and piety. I ride round and round struggling with myself until Lent is over 

2020 was global Lent. We gave up things big and small.  By choice or not by choice. We struggled with hunger for the things we missed. We struggled with the space made by the shift in our routine. We struggled with human nature,  rebellion,  pride,  piety and hypocrisy.  We came together and we fell apart. 

Each in our own small worlds wrestling with our own things. It was heavy -- many of us also experienced loss, grief, anxiety, financial difficulties and certainly a very unsettling amount of uncertainty.

Even though I didn't struggle like many people did, it was deeply uncomfortable. For me, I was used to lots of other people working with my children -- therapists, teachers, daycare providers. Suddenly, it was just me. I had to do all the things. I had to be all the things for them. I had to enter into deeper relationship with each of them -- I had to learn how much math they each knew or didn't. I had to figure out strategies to meet developmental milestones. I had to keep them busy and happy all day.

In the process, though, I developed a deeper appreciation for the call to motherhood and what a holy vocation it is. I had to re-evaluate priorities and ended up deciding to leave work because my children and my mental and physical health were a higher priority. I bent myself around the empty space and created a little world for my children within our home.  However long the world was on its head,  I was determined to have a place for them to thrive.  

I found myself permanently changed. Life has finally returned to normal. I still run into masks and other 2020 momentos cleaning out cars and closets. 

I could write volumes about how 2020 impacted me, my family,  the world around me.  I'm sure you could too. 

It is something we all share. Our stories combined to write history of this Era as the great depression shaped the lives of our parents or grandparents or maybe even great grand parents.  May we let ourselves lean into the spiritual learnings that can come from reflecting on and being changed by such a large event. 

I mentioned before that Ulrich has taken up reading the works of CS Lewis for Lent this year. Most of his work was written in the small period of time during World War 2. Other theologians and spiritual writers also produced great works during that time.   Many great spiritual works,  including sections of the old and new testament were written during periods of historical upheaval or suffering. 

Shifts and disruptions like those we experienced during the pandemic create space for us to explore life more deeply.  And while life seems to be back to normal,  I think our hearts and minds are still processing. 

Lent... that lasts a whole year.... is bound to change us. 

Day 24: What if we didn't have to adult anymore?

We ran a glow foam run as a family tonight. It was a 5k with bubbles and black lights every 1,000 meters or so.  I smiled as we waiting in the long line that wound around the parking lot to enter the race.  People of all ages,  sizes, and races were dressed up in glow sticks, tutus and silly glasses.  Groups were laughing and snapping selfies as they lined up. 

Play. We were meant to play. 

To find moments to let go and be silly.  To dress up.  To dance.  To wear pigtails and tutus.  To play is to let go of masks and embrace a form of authentic vulnerability that returns us to childhood.

Yesterday, I was at the zoo. I stood waiting near the otter exhibit while a friend went to the restroom. Everyone loved the otters. Sulky teenagers lit up and became animated talking to friends. Old ladies smiled and chatted. Toddlers danced as the otters swam close. Over and over, people were drawn to the playful nature of the otters and turned to share the emotion with someone nearby, even when that someone was a stranger. 

To play is to connect with the parts of ourselves created in God's image - creative,  relational, joyful, curious, ungaurded. 

We are drawn to the playful spirits of children and animals.  We allow ourselves to set down our adult responsibilities for a moment,  to step into worlds of joy enveloped by play.  

We've even invented a word to describe the feeling that comes with letting go of play to return to our responsibilities.  Adulting.

What if the new heaven and new earth were free from adulting?

No bills.  No work.  No health care appointments. No dishes or chores.

Play,  I think,  is a window into the resurrection life. Easter is coming and when it does,  we can set our lenten responsibilities behind and embrace play with joy. 

Days are growing longer.  Life is growing anew. The playful days of Easter are just around the corner.  

Day 23: The sinner and saint - the one about Severous Snape

Human beings are complex.

Ulrich likes to remind me that our brains can literally disagree with themselves.  One part sending one set of signals another part sending another set of signals.  And so the war we often can feel with ourselves when we struggle - Do I eat the cupcake or do I leave it - is in fact different parts of our brain fighting with each other on a biological level.  (I'm sure I got some nuance wrong about this,  I apologize scientist friends).

My point is, in our nature, we are living contradictions. But contradiction is hard to hold together.  It doesn't resolve.  It doesn't feel comfortable.  We prefer black and white,  good and evil,  true and false over all the shades of contradiction and nuance.  How can something be both true and false? It must be one or the other... or does it. 

I find great comfort in the Lutheran theology that embraces humans as both sinners and saints,  fallen and redeemed.  In this rich description we can dive deep into the heart of the human experience.  How can we be sanctified and continue to sin? How can we do righteous things and still be fallen?

My boys have decided to reread the Harry Potter series for the 3rd or 4th time. We just finished the first book and watched the first movie this evening.  I was chewing in this idea of the complex human nature and it came to me that part of what is so compelling about the Harry Potter series is that the main characters all hold this complex split good and evil. 

No one more than Snape.  I struggle to decide how to judge Snape. He has many dark places ... and deep goodness.  I try over and over to decide what side of the line to place him on.  The pros and cons could fill several posts if I let them.  I'm sure if you are a fan of these books, you have opinions. 

----

The modern term for sin is "toxic." Toxic people, toxic environments and toxic forms of communication. The word toxic or sin or evil gives us permission to disregard the light someone holds or to sum them up as nothing more than the darkness of their actions.  

I've been called toxic.  

It,  I  think,  is the most hurtful thing that anyone has ever said or to me.  More hurtful the defaming words or racial slurs. To be toxic, in today's terms,  is to be unredemmable. The word was only used once, many years ago and still it stings. 

I do think there is a place to cut relationships,  change leadership,  re-arrange organizations and church's.  We as fallen creatures can fall into unhealthy relationship dynamics and we need to take responsibility to mend,  heal and correct these broken patterns before they do significant damage.  

But too quickly we make stories about the sinners and the saints. The good guys and the bad guys....

May we recognize that we all have a bit of Snape. Pieces that are deeply admirable. Parts that are dark and self centered.  And may we carry grace for ourselves and others on days when darkness beats out the light.

God 

Create in me a clean heart.  Drive out the toxic parts of my personality and amplify those parts of me that bring light.  Help me to choose your path and help me to forgive others when they fail to do so.  

Amen.

Day 22: The mess under the refrigerator

There are jobs I never have time to get to.... until somehow it is forced.  Cleaning under the refrigerator is one of them. 

Today it was forced. 

As expected,  a giant collection of toys,  garbage and dirt pilled up under my broom.  I pillaged through the pile gathering up pencils, marbles and matchbox cars. Delighted,  I found missing pieces of games and puzzles.  Treasures.

I spent the rest of the day trying to put the pieces together of what to write tonight.  

Cleaning out dark and forgotten places.

Finding lost treasure.   

Lent is full of these things. 

I think tonight I'll leave it as a meditation. 

Where else do I need to do some cleaning before Lent is over?

Day 21: How Frozen pointed me to God

Washing dishes, it dawned on me.  One of my most commonly prayed written prayers in this current season comes from Frozen II.

I've been thinking about prayer a lot this season. It's funny how I've been really pondering the basics - prayer,  sin, grace - how long and how often I've used these terms without thinking deeply about what they mean.  

Prayer was a very specific thing in my mind.  Words spoken to God specifically in a set apart time for praying. But them I thought about written prayer,  silent prayer,  prayers you read like the lords prayer and prayer services and I began to expand my heart to consider what is the essence of prayer. 

Prayer is that which orients us towards God.  

When we find a deep joy in our work that brings an awareness of God,  our work becomes a prayer of worship.   

A walk in nature that connects us in awe of the creation becomes a silent prayer of gratitude.

Music that bends our heart in contrition or longing, gratitude or praise becomes a psalm.

Washing dishes,  Into the Unknown, came on my Playlist. The words,  I realize,  come directly from my heart giving expression to my current season of faith...

I can hear you, but I won't

Some look for trouble

While others don't

There's a thousand reasons

I should go about my day

And ignore your whispers

Which I wish would go away, oh, oh-oh

You're not a voice

You're just ringing in my ear

And if I heard you, which I don't

I'm spoken for, I fear

Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls

I'm sorry, secret siren, but I'm blocking out your calls

I've had my adventure, I don't need something new

I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you

Into the unknown. 

Truth is,  in mid-life picking up and trusting God when you have a job and a home and a bunch of kids feels incredibly daunting.  It's easier to think about God calling me to incremental changes.  

Ironing out faults I've been working on for years, 

Volunteering more at church or in the soup kitchen

Not .... the unknown.  Where even is the unknown? What would I be expected to do in the unknown? 

I don't sense God calling me to sell my house or move across the country,  but still,  there has been a shadowy distant call into something unknown that I can't quite make out.  

And as I listen for God's voice,  this song becomes my prayer.  Bringing God close,  turning my orientation to an unknown call. 

I was talking to a prayer partner about this today and was surprised to find myself choking back tears. But I think I realized how much harder it is to consider following God into the unknown with all the little people in tow. 

Where are you going?

Don't leave me alone

How do I follow you

Into the unknown?

Day 20: The wild wild wind

 Overnight rain slowed in the morning and it seemed that the predicted storm came through quicker than expected. The morning air smelled of rain and it was warmer than it has been in a while. Miles and I crept out to the backyard to check out greenhouse and see what grew overnight. We milled around the backyard half-, heartedly cleaning up and poking around various spots in the garden checking on new plants, bugs and the chickens.  The breeze was noticeable.  Strong but warm.  Pleasant.  It smelled of spring and earth. Reluctantly,  we headed back in to continue on homeschool lessons.   

As the day wore on the wind grew noticeable. It went from a strong breeze to wind to a wind storm. Gusts rattled the house and trees.  It was otherwise oddly pleasant,  but the wind was going crazy.  And suddenly, a knock at the door.  

I saw a fully suited police officer waiting,  hands on hips.  My mind raced. I thought about my friend who isn't doing so well. Or maybe trouble with kids... or did someone call the cops on my chickens. I mean,  this is suburbia, it could literally be anything.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.  I look out and my neighbor and another officer are holding up my fence. 

"It's about to crash on your vehicle. "

I grabbed my keys and ran out in my socks to move the van.  I then darted back through the house in search of something strong that could help hold up the fence.  I returned with a couple of ladders that I pulled out from behind the shed. 

With the fence secured,  the officers hurried off to help with some downed power lines down the road.  My neighbor called her husband who happened to be a fence contractor to come shore up the fence.

The wind howled wildly.  I stood there.  Perplexed.  It was pretty nice out otherwise.  The sun was shining from time to time.  The wind was pleasant,  just strong.  It was like standing in a polite hurricane. 

I thought of Pentecost. The wind whipping through the upper room,  tongues of fire resting on everyone's head. 

CS Lewis writes - "Aslan isn't a tame lion. "

Sometimes the Spirit of God comes like a hurricane and tears our world apart.  Blowing down our fences and uprooting our lives. 

A pastor friend once told me that you know when you are doing God's work because eventually the police show up.   

Praying that this Lent sends you some wild wind that breaks down walls,  opens doors and uproots your life. And if it does,  apparently my neighbor is a fence contractor and can help you rebuild. 

Amen

Day 19: A broken refrigerator

 I woke up exhausted.  The jetlag of daylight savings hit me hard. I opened the freezer to grab some ice to make myself some ice tea.  The ice tray had water in it.  I touched the frozen veggies next to the tray.... soft... face palm. It's only 6:45. 

I packed lunches,  got kids out the door,  called the service line for the fridge.  It's only a year and a half old.  They walk me through troubleshooting.  I realize the fridge is also warming up.  

So grateful we have a back up fridge,  I clean out drinks and start carting food from the main fridge to our back unit.  Mentally planning our new long list of items to cook this week.  At least I don't have to try to figure out what to make for dinner. 

While I was cleaning out the fridge, I went to dump so stuff down the garbage disposal.  Pressed the button.  Nothing.... seriously?!

I continue cleaning,  my energy lagging. Every ounce of me wants to sleep but there's a storm rolling in tonight and I'd rather deal with all this cleaning and rearranging without buckets of water pouring down.  So I press on until it's time to pick up kids.  More iced tea and Harry Potter audiobook while I do school pickups. Luckily,  two kids have robotics after school so I just have the 3 Littles. 

We come home and I set about getting dinner in the oven and continuing to clean out food areas as I shift and move things around.   

Crash

"I'm an idiot"

"What happened Philip?"

"I broke the fish tank!"

What is with this day??

Luckily,  he broke the fish tank we've been using to house Miles bugs,  not the one full of water.  Silver lining. 

At this point,  I'm realizing that today's blog post is going to be about brokenness. Broken appliances,  broken glass,  a broken body that is barely making it through the day.  

I thought about the song I posted a few days ago.  Thank you for sunshine.  Thank you for rain.  

I thought about how sad I was that this beautiful day was wasted on dealing with all the broken things and tomorrow it's going to rain. 

Thank you for sunshine. Thank you for rain. 

I turn on music and have a dance party with the littles.  Zander dancing in a diaper.  The smell of ribs and chicken legs wafting through the house.  Miles running through with bugs to feed the chickens. Somehow the day managed not to be sour. 

Dancing with gratitude was a wonderful prayer in the midst of nothing going right.  The movement kept my heart moving the right way. 

When I think about brokenness and faith,  I tend not to think about "non-functioning" type of brokenness like my broken refrigerator.  Somehow spiritual brokenness feels more poetic. But sometimes brokenness is life rearranging.  A broken car,  a broken washer,  a broken body. Suddenly life shifts in a new direction and we're not following the originally scheduled program.  We're dealing with unexpected life. Fixing a problem. 

God is present in our brokenness.  Not just the poetic brokenness,  but the days that we flat out stop functioning. The days when life is rearranged because we don't work quite right.  God is present even when our faith is broken,  when we can't even figure out which direction we might start to look for God or when ẁe don't even want to.  

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Day 18: Humanity is a terminal condition

This weekend has been the type to make me wrestle with the condition of humanity. I debated with a friend the purpose of modern miracles, got word of someone who passed away with unresolved arguments,  and had to talk to the police about a friend who is,  by all definitions,  a hot mess. 

It all got me thinking about our hopefulness that people will change and how often it actually happens.  But even more,  when it is clear someone will never change how much effort do we put in to help them.  As if the only reason to help is to inact change. I think of our judgement of people asking for money.  Our isn't worth doing if they are going to turn around and spend it on booze.  On one hand it is wreckless to waste our resources... time, money,  energy on hopeless situations.  Or is it?

I pondered this as I set about endless housework.  Cleaning the dining room table for the fourth time today. Making beds for them to be torn apart in a few hours.  The kids whining.... why do we have to clean up when the house just gets messy again.  

Indeed.  Life is terminal.  We just keep struggling with the same stuff. Over and over. 

I thought of my friend.  Her destructive patterns of behavior.  How she can't see a better life even if it knocks her against the head. But then,  so we all stay stuck in our own behavior patterns that trap us even when a new life is right there for the taking. 

A few weeks ago I was listening to Brene Brown interviewing Richard Rohr about his book Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the 12 steps.  They talked about themselves as achievers,  the need to keep doing,  keep achieving... here's a bit of the transcript 

Brene mentions this quote:

I am trapped by certain grace and enclosed in the constant need for mercy.

Then proceeds to say

" I just turned it into a prayer, because I think to myself, “I don’t want to surrender to win. I want to fight to win. I don’t want to die to live. I want to fight. I want to fight on all these, and I don’t want to give anything away to keep it. I want to fight for it and keep it. I want to fight. I want to fight all the time.”

I have a deeply engrained Midwestern ethic that says - Do better.  Be better. Pull yourself up by your bootstraps and fix your life.  There is a place for that,  but being trapped in God's grace is a recognition of the terminal nature of the human condition.  We can only take ourselves so far and we are all trapped in our own destructive cycles.  We might make "progress" and like the bed,  wake up the next morning to only find ourselves needing to be made all over again.  

But in Christ,  we are trapped in grace.  Simultaneously unable to "fix" ourselves and free to embrace the yoke of Christ which is light. And,  in the fullness of time,  become transformed into our resurrected selves,  born in the new earth,  fully accepting of God's amazing grace. 

For now,  we hold the human condition in a holy hospice. Loving each other in our brokenness even as we hold the heartbreak that comes with an inability to break the destructive cycles that bind us.  We pray for grace to break through and open our eyes to the life Christ calls us into. 

Until then we are left with these three things.

 

Faith.

Hope. 

Love. 

And these greatest of these is.....  

Day 17: Wrapped in water

California is getting drenched by another round of atmospheric rivers which,  after several years of drought,  the prolonged rainy time is welcome.  There is something a little scary thinking about running out of water.  Our modern life is so convenient. Everything we eat,  wear,  use, buy comes from far flung places that we take for granted that water is one thing that we need locally and if we run out,  we can't just truck in more.  

I look out the window and see my garden growing lush as the temperatures are slowly warming and my perennials have been pampered for months with regular water after so many lean years. I think about Gardener God and smile.  

Water is so deeply connected to my experience of faith.  The wide view of the ocean that connects me to the vastness of God. Water washes us clean again and again. Water held us in our mother's womb before birth. Water is also powerful and terrifying. 

My favorite place to pray is in the shower. It always has been. When I'm sick,  it is the place I must want to be. When I'm overwhelmed, cold,  tired, grieving... I want to wrap myself in water and close my eyes and feel God with me.  

Watching the rain outside and my hungry garden coming back to life I can't help but think that Gardener God is wrapping around creation renewing us all. 

Day 16: Gardener God

Miles gardens every single day. I'm almost certain his career will involve agriculture or at least biology.  He was born for it,  the way Mozart was born to make music.  It's actually beautiful to watch him in nature and in his garden.  His tiny,  gentle way with bugs,  eggs,  chickens,  plants,  seeds.  He sees things i don't see.  He's connected to the earth in a way I don't often see in humans. 

I'm homeschooling miles hduring the morning this year because,  well,  he also learns very differently from most people and needs lots of one on one instruction.   I've developed my homeschool lessons around gardening because... well fight em or join em. We compare sizes of seeds,  germination time,  what seedlings of different plants look like,  spelling vegetable names, etc.  I've actually surprised myself how many things you can work on while gardening. We've covered nearly every state standard for 1st grade with lots of room to grow. 

 I digress....

 In California,  we don't take water for granted and gardening for the last several years has included a small rainwater collection system in my backyard. Yesterday,  one of our chores was to move water from the collection barrel to other storage to make space for new water with upcoming storm.

As Miles was filling his jug,  he looked at my with a sly smile and a twinkling eye.  

"Who gave us this water?" He said slowly and softly. Grin never fading. 

"God. "

"And who is going to water our garden tomorrow?" 

"God."

****

A few months ago it was getting ready to rain and Miles asked me where the rain comes from.  I told him "God sends the rain. " 

He got wide eyed. 

"MOM, IS GOD A GARDENER?"

"Yes."

"AND DOES THAT GARDENER GOD WATER THE PLANTS?!?!"

"yes,  Miles,  that Gardener God sends us all the water we need. "

****

Now whatever the weather,  Miles will say "Gardener God is watering the garden or Gardener God is shining light for the plants."

Miles knows he doesn't garden alone.  I think he has found his prayer language too. He prays with his hands covered in soil. 

Gardener God.  

He sends us rain. 

Maybe he wears galloshes. 

Day 15: Getting educated on sin

My last post on sin vs personality flaws lead to a lively conversation with Ulrich.  

He gave up podcasts for Lent and so his commute has been filled with a long audio book of CS Lewis prominent works - Mere Christianity,  Screwtape letters,  The great divorce,  the problem of pain,  Miracles and George Macdonald. (Just a bit of light reading for the way to work). 

Ulrich's brain has no problem casually listening to dense writing,  in fact Lewis's writings have inspired him to consider cracking "Summa Theologica” (written by Thomas Aquinas between 1265 and 1274), which is one of the important theological documents written early in church history.  Sometimes,  I scratch my head with this guy... I thought I was the one considering seminary.  I wouldn't be surprised if he completed an MDiv just for fun some summer when I take the kids to visit my parents. 

Anyways,  back to the point.  Mentioning that I had written a blog post on sin grabbed his attention and he proceeded to summarize Lewis's view on the matter.  I am not going to do a terrific job elegantly developing the framework,  so I'll jump to the heart of it. Ulrich summarized Lewis's view on sin as "an act of self-worship." 

This was an interesting box to draw around behavior and use as a sort of litmus test. Of course, I was looking to see if it would hold up and tried lots of hypotheticals - I brought up the common words of confession - "I have sinned in act, word and deed,  by what I have done and what I have left undone." Could the definition of "an act of self-worship" cover all the things one might think of in that prayer of confession?

I think at root it mostly does. When you think about unholy ways of being,  at the root,  we find self centeredness. I have found this and Lewis's views on pride to be very instructive in setting myself on a path to legitimate repentance.

I was a good girl growing up.  I attended catholic catechism and first Communion and I remember clearly my first confession.  I couldn't think of anything to repent for.  So I made something up and repented for that.  And in my heart repented for making something up.  I struggled with this good girl persona.  Never breaking rules.  I didn't drink.  I got my work done.  I cared for my brothers. I cared for the poor. If I learned of another thing I *should* do.  I did it. 

So when it came time to repent of my sins,  I honestly had a hard time coming up with anything. 

But Lewis opened my eyes to pride as such a hard sin to avoid. We want to be special. We want approval.  We want self-righteous anger. We are in fact the center of our own worlds and life and faith are a long lesson in teaching us how to kick ourselves out of 1st place.  Placing God and others ahead or at least on equal footing. 

But how do you do this an not be a doormat? 

Humility is defined as being honest about your place in the world.  Not less,  not more. Just matter of fact. 

But when I get back to my thoughts on personality,  I still feel somewhat unresolved - what about saying something to someone that hurts their feelings when you are honestly trying to help? Or just casually saying the wrong thing without thinking about it? It requires an act of reconciliation even if your heart was in the right place. I feel like there's all this gray area and it is somewhat connected to our psychology and how our brains work and our ability to catch and distance ourselves from instinct. And there's a gap between how we describe ourselves philosophically and how we actually are in the world with all the complexities associated with being human and interacting with other humans. 

I did discover there is actually a whole branch of theology dedicated to sin called hamartiology. It is related to Christian ethics and natural law.  I find the whole thing intriguing because I realize in faith,  we throw around these heavy words and we also catch and hold them without really asking ourselves what they mean.  Or at least,  I never do. I assume something simple.  Sin is breaking the law ...ei the 10 commandments which Jesus simplified into love the lord your God with all your heart and love your neighbor as yourself.

I mean,  it is that simple, but again,  what does it mean to love God with your whole heart and love your neighbor as yourself.  And more importantly,  how do I  find the next piece of myself to let go of and turn away from while still holding on to who God made me to be? 

Day 14: what does it take to really be part of a community

if I'm going to be honest. Belonging whole heartedly to a community is a bit akin to pull ups. It is something I have strived for but only achieved once for a short time sometime around 27.  For both the pull ups and the being part of a community. 

It's not that i haven't tried when and how I can.  I've been active part of my church,  volunteered at my kids' schools, signed up when I can to help out with community events.  I go often to the library,  visit the same local parks,  walk regularly to the store in my neighborhood and contribute posts to all of the above social media posts.  So why is this so hard?

I think there are lots of reasons.  My kids have some extra needs and parenting them takes more energy. They also are adversive to situations that have lots of people. When they were little, they got very upset if I talked to adults for any amount of time. 

Also, for most of the past decade I worked obscene hours often waking at 4 to finish work by pickup so I could spend afternoons with the kids.  To survive,  I had to put things I loved on the chopping block and community was one of the things that went.  

Since 2020, I've had more bandwidth. I traded full time work for a baby (which is roughly an equal trade) but I've found small spaces to re-engage with the various communities I belong to. It's still a long way from the level of commitment that is required to really "belong" in the same way that I did before I had kids. 

I have long felt grief about this desire to have a deeper connection with community... with church,  at school. A desire to have close friends to share parenthood with.  Kids that know my house and houses that know my kids. 

But today,  my perspective changed a little. Perhaps there is more than one right way to be in community.  

I've always thought of community as a group that belong to a specific school or church that live life together. Share meals,  celebrate holidays, hold events.  Members of the community look out for each other,  organizing meal trains when someone gets sick. For me,  community involved a whole lot of dragging chairs around and making dishes to share and gathering in kitchens with retired ladies to rinse off spoons. 

That idealized sense of community is unobtainable for me in this season.  Not because I'm a mother - lots of mothers are the backbone of communities.  It's because I'm a mother to the particular children that I am a mother to. There just isn't time for spoon washing just yet.

I have been creeping closer.  My church has an annual women's retreat and in 2018 or so,  I finally carved out a way to take a single Saturday off so that I could partially attend.  It's a beautiful retreat and there's something magical that happens,  for a few hours I feel like I belong.  I find myself in community.

At the beginning of the school year,  a woman at my kids school organized a moms group to help moms of the school connect and form better community. It happened to be scheduled for a spot that often is open in my schedule and wanting to help the group get going, I came regularly. Some days I felt like I connected,  a little.... some days I felt how big the gap was between my big,  chaotic, autism dominated household and what other moms shared about their homes.  But,  community takes time I would remind myself.  So, even when I felt on the edge,  I kept going.  

Today,  the group got going on a discussion that went deeper than usual. There were tears.  It, for a moment,  felt like the retreat. Everyone belonged. Everyone mattered. 

I've been pondering this all day and holding in my heart what God might speak about community. And I think I heard something new.... we are intended to live out our faith in community.  I've always believed this which is why I've struggled so much with this aspect of life.  Community keeps you balanced.  Challenges you when you need challenging.  Lifts you up when life gets to heavy. Prays with and for you. Refocuses your eyes on faith when you need it. Community is an essential part of the Christian walk. But what if you can't seem to connect to a community? What if you are perpetually an outsider?

What if faith community is not a single group of people at a church or a school but rather any gathering of the faithful. Maybe women's retreat or the moms group are small moments of community in a season that doesn't allow me to put in the effort to be in community the way I aspire. Maybe anytime I gather and share faith with others is being part of the community of Christ. Maybe community is a gift like grace.  We don't have to "belong" or "put in our dues" to access the community of believers.  We just have to be open and show up when we can. 

Day 13: Vignettes of death

Eddie and I were driving home from the doctor and I noticed something flash across his face.  

"What's up? What are you thinking about?"

"Just life stuff..."

"What kind of life stuff?"

"Well,  you know,  I don't think I'm scared of dying.  I'm scared of not existing.  I guess that is my self preservation instinct."

"I sometimes have that fear too. It's part of why you memorize verses at school and why we sing the same songs over and over at church.  When our hearts get afraid we can find words that speak to us. "

🖤🖤🖤

Earlier this year,  a friend of a friend suddenly passed away from a strep infection. She was a mother of five.  The youngest 18 months.  She honeschooled them all.  Active in her faith, she studied theology in the side.  I was struck hard by her death.  It was a reminder that sometimes we go early,  even if most would agree that our work on earth is far from done. It reminded me of long showers where I mentally prepared for the possibility of leaving young children behind during the early days of covid as I have an autoimmune disease that puts me in a higher risk category. It also broke my heart in so many ways.  I was sure that if I had known this woman,  we would have likely exchanged thoughtful conversations.  I thought of her husband and children and how they would live on with such grief.  I held vigil for her and my grief was heavy.  I didn't even know her. But my heart ached.

🖤🖤🖤

An artist / author I follow on podcasts and Instagram who goes by the handle @scottthepainter wrote a book with a coffin that says "we all get in." He discusses how confronting and getting comfortable with death helps us to live fully.  He calls this a death practice.  It is a derivative and deeper dive of the classic exercise to think about your funeral.  He turned it into a kind of thought provoking multisensory "show" of shorts that invites viewers to view life deeper. 

🖤🖤🖤

Jimmy Carter enters hospice. Teaches us all about dignity at the end of life and educates us on the work of hospice workers. 

🖤🖤🖤

A few days ago,  a Facebook memory of my grandfather's passing popped up.  His death was perhaps the first time I remember feeling death as a softer thing. I saw God walk with him right to heaven.  

To set the stage...  It was February in Michigan.  It was 70 degrees.  There were several new babies to meet. A whole group of extended family spontaneously assembled at my aunts house as if it were Christmas eve. Cards were played.  Babies kissed.  Grandpa high spirited and healthier than he had been in a while. He beat everyone at the card table (his favorite pastime). I wasn't able to attend since I live out in California,  I didn't need to be there. The scene,  the smells,  the people,  the vibe etched in my memory deeper than my conscious mind.  

The next morning,  I received the news that he had passed in his sleep.  I smiled.  It was Lent.  February in Michigan. Except that one day,  usually cold and gray and sunless.  I didn't blame him.  He celebrated with family one last time then flew off to be with Jesus. 

🖤🖤🖤

Life is full of vignettes like this where death draws near.  Sometimes terrifying.  Tragic.  Mysterious.  Sacred.  But always,  God present. 

 Even in those moments of broken unjust death,  we scream into the vast emptiness GOD WHERE ARE YOU NOW? Exactly the same cry we hear from Jesus on the cross. God does not feel present.  The raw, dark painful strike to loud,  to bright,  to overwhelming for God to be perceived.  But none the less,  God present. Dimly.  

I struggle with death on many levels.  The theology varies widely even among Christian believers. The convergence of divergent epistemologies that I hold loosely reach a point where everything fades into unknowing.  

Like Eddie,  I've feared it.  I've been paralyzed dreading it.  Awake at night gasping for breath. 

I've played with my babies laughing and holding all the beautiful things of this earth in my heart and I've grieved it. Why the unknown? This life is just so beautiful.

But,  these moments I remember verses, hymns,  faith.  I am held by these. I find conviction,  strength,  hope, peace and courage.  As love is an action.  Faith is a decision.  It is not what I know, but it is what I trust. 

God is present in death.  

Holding us.  

Catching us.  

Carrying us. 

Beyond the horizon that we see,  God is.  

Lent does not end with good Friday. It goes past the grave. We are greeted by a new light dawning in the garden on Easter morning. Mysterious. Holy. Joyful. 

May God enter into your places of grief. Those vast tender spaces and soothe them.  May God enter your places of fear.  Those jagged, piercing caves and fill them with peace and hope.  May God enter your places of dread,  the gray gloomy cold harsh landscapes and with them with light.  

Death is not easy.  But God walks with us in and through it. 

Peace be with you. 

Day 12: Thank you for sunshine

 

This video came on my feed and theologically, I have nothing to add. This embodies the attitude of gratitude I strive to hold on to.

Today, instead of reaching in to understand or explain,  I just listen and let myself be grateful for music,  for sunshine and rain,  for the many people on this earth and the internet that allows these kinds of beautiful videos happen.  

If you are interested in backstory....

the original song this is based on was written and recorded in 2014 by an artist named Jermaine Edwards, a Jamaican gospel singer. Jermaine Edwards, RushawnIn 2017, 10-year-old Rushawn Ewears was recorded by a teacher at the Top Hill Primary School in St. Elizabeth and the recording circulated among locals. 

A few months ago a short clip of Rushawn went viral and creators have been making various remixes and derivative works.  This version by Kiffness has been particularly popular with 6M views in 4 weeks.  

As a result of the internet frenzy,  both Jermaine Edwards and Rushawn Ewears have signed recording deals with Sony and the school is getting a new playground and other upgrades.  

Day 11: Nicodemus

I was delighted to find in service this morning that this year we are reading my favorite series of Lent gospel lessons from John - Nicodemus, the woman at the well, the blind man and Lazarus.  I love these gospels because of the depth of the story,  the characters and the way that Jesus and the character speak both with and past each other.  Jesus is completely enigmatic and I  read again and again to gather in pieces of his meaning.  I always find something new as many times as I read and re read these stories. 

Today,  Nicodemus. If I am to be honest, I think Nicodemus is the character in the gospels that is the closest match to who I might be. (As evidenced by my love of these confusing stories) A member of the educated class,  the achievers of the day - stuck between law and tradition on one side and the Roman Empire on the other,  the Pharasees held the stress of protecting their people from Roman influence and ensuring that the people followed the law so to keep God happy. I imagine this to feel like both hard and worthwhile work.  I could see myself signing up for this. 

I could also see myself a little disgusted with the pride and arrogance of my pharasee colleagues. Years out of theology school, watching everyone jockey for position in the sanhedren and not really holding the same passion and fervor for the scripture that was so palpable in Hebrew school. 

But this young teacher.... he is really unorthodox. So smart.  So uncannily comfortable with the law, he almost plays with it.  He walks with sinners and heals people... on the Sabbath.  It's hard to tell what to make of him. Is he a prophet or a blaspheme? Whatever he is,  he definitely isn't part of the establishment. 

But Nicodemus had to know.  He cared too much. He still had a heart sensitive to the real reason he had become a pharasee to begin with.... and so,  under cover of night, he meets with Jesus and asks his questions. And Jesus responds with puzzles.  

He came to Jesus by night and said to him, "Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God."

3:3 Jesus answered him, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above."

3:4 Nicodemus said to him, "How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother's womb and be born?"

3:5 Jesus answered, "Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit.

I'm on team Nicodemus.  What are you talking about Jesus? You don't make sense to me. I want to understand... make me understand....

3:8 The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

OK,  I can work a bit with this.  Metaphor.  There are things that exist that we can't see,  but can feel.  There are mysteries that we cannot unravel.  Somehow we must be born into this mystery opening ourselves to things we cannot see, to a kingdom we cannot understand.  

"Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.

I will always be Nicodemus. Wanting to understand things that are beyond my understanding.  Asking and listening.  Hoping and knowing that there is something the little box of how I understand the world to work. Coming to Jesus thirsty, honest and with my little box of understanding in tow. May I find the heart of Nicodemus to keep risking breaking the world as I know it to receive the world as God sees it. 

Day 10: A framework for when to say yes and when to say no

American culture values busyness.  We are taught to work hard and do more. Layered on this,  we are taught to balance work,  family,  friends and self-care. We are barrated for doing too much or for not doing enough. We've developed hacks for how to do more in less time.  How to be efficient and effective.  

I have signed up for every class and every life hack on squeezing the most out of every day. I have been creative to find ways to give more and lean into my passions even when it seems I am short on time. 

But,  no matter how much I squeeze in,  there is more beyond that that I "should" be doing.  Volunteering at church and school, more activities for my kids to develop themselves,  more housework I haven't gotten to. There is a list longer than my arm of things I could and should do with my time, money and emotional energy.  So how do I decide what to say yes to and what to say no to. 

I have to admit that there are days when I want to say no to everything.  I want to wall off and protect my time and energy to make sure it is there for my family.  There are other days when I want to say yes with a deep desire to give of myself into a need that is our there in the world.  Especially when that need is shaped like the kind of thing I can offer. 

So how to decide... 

There are many books on this topic. They offer various frameworks for decision making.  But I wanted to write about a framework that I use as a first,  and deeper pass that somewhat turns conventional wisdom on its head.  

It is simply... am I called to this? And... am I called to this,  in this current season?

I began to use call as a lens for life's decisions when I was still in high school.  When I was 13, I had one of those Samuel moments when I deeply experienced God's movement in my life guiding me towards international work.  I was unsure of whether this was "mission" work or "development" work as the heart of my call was to walk along side very poor people and help them build a better life for themselves and for their community.  This was in fact a very complicated call that I worked years at untangling. 

When I was 26, I moved to Davis, California and I found myself with a new call not only to consider the very poor but also to walk with people as they explored faith.  I became a lay pastor and very involved with my church community.  I did outreach and built ministries. I learned about the emergent church. I considered going to seminary. 

In consideration of going to seminary and leaning into a call of full time ministry, I talked with many pastors and read books on discernment.  How do you know exactly if God is calling you to do something?

The answer is very tricky.  Here I am 15 years later still working it out.  But I have learned a few things that have helped me use the concept of call to make decisions about how I spend the hours in my day. 

First,  call is both global and specific.  There are many things that all believers are called to do - love each other,  pray for our enemies,  feed the hungry, clothe the naked,  make disciples of all nations, etc. There are many things that Jesus both taught and commanded his disciples to do.  But, we aren't expected to each do all of those things.  We are a body of believers.  And in this we each have a role.  God made us each with a shape and jobs in mind. 

Interesting,  I don't think our "calls" or our "role" within the body of believers entirely stems from what we are good at.  Look at Moses and Peter. I think rather it is a combination of our passion,  talent and sensibility with a spiritual journey or learning that God has for us.  I feel that in following my call so far,  it has been as much a path that has been laid to teach me as it has for me to offer my gifts in service. Perhaps even more for my own growth,  if I am going to be honest.  And that is what makes call so hard.  It's not just I'm great at baseball so I'll be a baseball player...  there's more. 

For me... the following things have been sign posts that make me consider if a given activity is part of my current call...

1. Does turning my back on this thing feel somehow like turning my back on faith or who I am meant to be?

Like everyone,  I see tons of people asking for money regularly in my day.  Sometimes I help.  Sometimes I don't.  But on a given day,  there was a woman who came to me and I can't describe it but there was a feeling like God called me to care for her and to turn my back on her was to ignore my part in feeding the hungry. I helped her that day,  and the next and the next. For 13 years... she calls me mom.  I've learned more about Jesus from her than almost any other place. 

2. Can I rearrange my life around this new call without abandoning other calls that I am certain of?

It isn't so much whether I have time. It is whether I can make time.  Maybe I can quit my job or change my hours.  Maybe I can put kids in child care.  Maybe I can't.  

Call can definitely turn my world upside down. More than once I just got on a plane with a suitcase and a vague idea of what I was headed into.  

I might still be open to do something that wild with kids in tow if I knew certainly that it was part of my call and theirs. 

3. Can I find God in this?

There are lots of things that we just do.  We could say yes or no to going out on Friday depending on what we feel like doing. Matters of call have a silent,  holy whisper that somehow softens the edges and I want to lean into them because I might find or experience God or learn more about the nature of God. And usually,  when I look in the rearview,  I find God's fingerprints in my life when I've taken up a call. 

Call is tricky.  Something I wrestle with.  Something I want to be easy. I would much rather God just say,  here... here's your spot,  your job, your journey and your lessons to learn. The fogginess of trying to figure it out it frustrating and yet,  I think somehow an essential part of it.  

Day 9: Gardening as a form of prayer

I've decided to make an ongoing effort to become aware of moments of prayer both active when I seek out God intentionally and passive,  when I find myself on the listening side of prayer. 

Today I was gardening and I realized how much this really is a spiritual practice rather than a simple hobby. It for me is a direct joining with God in the work of creation. 

I can learn about God's creation - what makes certain seeds germinate,  what conditions help deterivours develop a healthy ecosystem,  what plants like to live together - but only God is present in the life and death of all those creatures in my garden. 

There are so many parables in the Bible - partially because Jesus lived in an agricultural society but I think also because in the garden,  we come as close as we can to understanding God's perspective... that and parenting (which is also a topic of many parables)

In the work of gardening,  I find my senses awaken and my mind quiets.  I look,  I feel.  I focus.  I work with my body.  I become somewhat non-verbal. The part of me that is verbal tends to be curious and questioning - I wonder how deep to plant this? Are these weeds beneficial? Can chickens eat these?  

My body soaked in sunshine,  my hands drenched in soil.  My lungs full of that fragrance of rich compost mixed with the smell of rain with notes of flowers and greenery.  My mind is calm.  And there... as a teacher would say... I have reached a teachable moment.  

And God teaches me.  As I lament over a single plant that won't grow or a peach tree lush with peaches that are bitter... probably because there were too many peaches and too little water. There's the garden bed I've planted 6 different times only to have it eaten each time by escape chickens,  just as I start to hope that it will make it. There's waking up at night and running out into the yard to save a chicken from a raccoon and the deep joy when I see new shoots from a plant I was sure had died the year before. 

Sometimes I even find myself talking out loud to God about these lessons.  I find myself praying for those plants that might not make it.  And... I literally held vigil with a chick I knew was dying but I couldn't bear to let it die alone.  So I held it into the night.... of course this was during Lent and there was a blog about it.  

A few years ago,  Ulrich's cousin had a terrible accident and was in a coma for a couple weeks before passing away.  We couldn't go to be with her,  but I planted a small section of my garden with flowers that reminded me of her and I spent time daily working in that section of my garden as I prayed for her. 

Even as a write this post,  I kind of surprised myself by how intertwined gardening and faith are for me.  I go out there and work.  Sometimes God shows up and works along side me.  Sometimes i just see evidence that he had been there.  Nearly always, God comes to mind at least for a moment. 

Lent falls in the perfect time for prayer in the garden. Death slowly becomes alive. Light slowly grows longer. Gardens are fairly demanding (and inspiring) this time of year.  Pruning trees before they bud. Cleaning up the tangles and the daunting wildness that looks both dead and overwhelming. Working soil. Planting seeds.

With a more intentional focus on spiritual practices during this season,  I invite you to reach out to God in your garden ... if gardening is a thing you do. 

I looked up articles on the Christian tradition of prayer in gardens and it is extensive. Jesus often prayed in gardens, most monasteries include gardening as a daily work that helps in the devotion to God.  Many churches and Christian schools and hospitals feature prayer gardens as spaces set aside. 

Many articles I looked at discussed how to build a prayer garden... which,  if you have the space and find that you connect with God while gardening,  I would highly recommend.  I was giddy reading some of the ideas.  I don't have space for a dedicated prayer garden but I am considering some of the features for sections of my yard. 

Here are some of my favorite ideas:

- Select plants with symbolic meaning lilies, bleeding heart,  grapes,  mustard

- consider a statute or other focal point

- find a specific spot or orientation or view that is your prayer spot. A chair,  a cushion,  a swing, that padded foam you kneel on when pulling weeds

- create a pattern with stones that you can walk (like a labyrinth) or if space is limited,  trace your fingers over. 

The weather has been crazy this year.  Snow seems to want to persist. Even in California we've had snow where we don't usually get snow.... and more is on the way.  If you can't get out and get in the diet quite yet,  maybe thinking through how you might add a bit of prayer to your garden might be a practice into itself. 

Spring is coming.