Our spring break has not been going to plan. Everyone got sick at various points and husband had unexpected work obligations that blew up life and left us in that empty space between the end of one plan and the beginning of a new one.
I've been living moment to moment. Checking the weather. Checking kids. Figuring out who's healthy and what people need. I've been trying to piece together days not having a full plan to go from and trying to get enough ahead of the moment to be able to make good use of the coming days.
Change. Even small change like this. Can feel uncomfortable. I think, as I've gotten older, change feels even more scratchy against my grains. I'm better at planning and predicting, I think, than when I was young. But also, I think, when I was young, I was growing and changing constantly. It was the natural state of life. But I'm older, I've placed stakes. I bought a house and brought all my babies home here. I have memories too precious for words in this home and I have a hard time imagining any other place to live.
I've been married for so long, I know how to live as two. I am starting to forget living a one. I've been a mother so long, I can't imagine not waking every day and caring for someone.
But eventually, we move, our children grow and sadly our lives as two become a life of one if we live long enough.
Jesus's disciples were blown apart when he died. It wasn't the ending most of them were expecting. They locked themselves in that room where they all had that last meal and wondered what now. There was a long empty pause between where one plan ended and another had not yet arrived.
Every time Jesus met someone one the road, there was the same invitation to be blown apart. "Come, follow me "
Can you imagine? You go out to check your mail one morning. There's a crowd down the street. You wander over to see what's going on. The next thing you know, you are on a flight to Chicago texting your spouse that you won't be home for a while.
I might tell myself that Jesus doesn't do that kind of change anymore. I might be able to tell myself I've already followed Jesus and made the big changes so there is no more apple cart dumping in my life.
But holy week silences that notion. Following Jesus isn't a single upheaval that comes with the decision to leave and follow. It is the upheaval that comes day after day following Jesus who turns the world upside down.
Sometimes, I have to let go of my own plan for my day, my life, my children, my community, this world. Perhaps my vision of where it should go and what I should do is is merely my own feeble attempt to make my mark. Jesus keeps turning the world over and faith is to trust that his plan, though it often doesn't make sense, is better.
This foolishness of self sacrifice, loving enemies, taking the low spot and eating with sinners. This foolishness of following an impoverished renegade who doesn't promise safety or stability for me or my children. It doesn't read well as self- help literature.
But here we are in holy week. The cross squarely, largely looming at the end of this road. And Jesus still says... follow me.
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