Day 11: But really, who's going to clean this up?

Why do we have to do chores? 

And maybe a bigger question,  what chores do we need to do?

I was annoyed with my boys this morning. I had a day plan to do chores in the morning and spend the warm afternoon at the pool or the beach. 

But they had other plans.  They all decided to use hammers and break up some old concrete.  It kept them quite busy for a long time. I think they find a freedom in Lent to return to analog play.  The kind of stuff I did growing up.  Hammering rocks was definitely something I did. 

But I got annoyed with them as the day got warm and chores weren't done and we were long longer on track with my plan.  So I sat them down in the backyard and we talked about why chores exist and why its important to do them. 

Some of them are things we need to do to live - but and make food,  bathe.  Some are things that protect us from disease like doing dishes and cleaning out the refrigerator.  Most are to protect and be good stewards of resources -- keeping the house from falling into decay,  taking care of vehicles,  laundry,  fixing stuff,  cleaning and organizing.  And some are so people think well of us. 

Being a mostly neurodivergent household, I can't assume they even see what I'm talking about.  My husband didn't notice when I painted the house a different color or knocked a wall down while he was at work. And my kids can't be told to clean a room, they must be told "get the pencil on the floor and put it in the pencil container in the counter in the living room." Sometimes they pick up the pencil,  but forget halfway to the destination and just set it on the table. So even when they do help with chores,  it can take a loooooong time. 

To be fair,  some of them get medicine during the week to help them be able to do school the way other kids do school,  sitting in a seat,  listening to instructions and filling in the blanks in worksheets (which honestly,  even with medecine doesn't always work well) but on the weekend,  they take breaks so they are EXTRA spacy.  Also to be fair,  with age,  they have made marked improvements,  but each has a pretty limited scope.  Eddie can do routine tasks like laundry and dish washer,  but struggles with things that require attention or decision making. Andrew is great with cooking and helping with kids but has a harder time with things like "we are going to clean the yard for 20 minutes. " 

During our chat about chores, we talked about these different strengths and how big families have to figure it out,  because it is literally impossible for one person to manage all the work floor the household, there are just too many people to care for. 

In the end we got there.  We talked about new ways to work together.  We considered people's strengths and limitations and the need for all of them to learn how to fully take care of themselves before they go out into the world. The chores got done... well,  the essential chores got done... and Andrew lead playtime and worked in skills that Zander currently needs to work on. We took the van through a car wash,  dropped off donations and had a Wendy's date for lunch.  We ended the day watching a documentary about Mars to help miles start thinking about his science project. 

Being a family is hard.  Parenting is hard.  Deciding where to push and where to adapt is such a tricky thing. And for me,  trying to figure out "what normal" and what my kids "should be doing" and "what they can do" and what they might be able to do if I could just parent them better can get me into a bad headspace. 

It is better,  far better,  to take the body of Christ approach.  We are a family that must do all these functions to live and how we divide it up is best decided by the gifts and abilities we each have rather than by some "normal" way families "do this." 

Blessings to you who parent.  May God give you wisdom and patience,  especially when it comes to the mundane,  have-to- do bits like fixing the sink,  taking out trash and figuring out the the 38 millionth time what we are going to eat for dinner. 

Day 10: Waiting on medicine

I can feel the cracks in my energy

Around 2pm I fall off a cliff as if I were coming down with a virus.  Aches,  chills,  fatigue. My body is done. 

Next Tuesday is my infusion and I can tell my body needs it. But it won't make me better overnight.  In fact,  it may be worse for the first few weeks but slowly, slowly,  I'll climb out of the haze and I'll have more energy. I'll breathe better.  

It's a kind of invisible miracle that keeps me healthy.  Keeps me able bodied. But it takes 6 months for a dose to wear off and I can start to think Im fine on my own. I don't really need it. There's a possibility that someday I could wean off it, but for now,  I most definitely do. 

Church is a similar kind of medicine.

Most weeks it feels routine.  If anything,  inconvenient and a little uncomfortable.  Getting up,  making time,  wrestling kids to get ready, sing the songs,  say the words,  pray the prayers. There is meaning in it for sure.  But if I'm honest, a hike would usually feel better. 

But Church is a kind of medicine that builds up in your spiritual system. A few weeks break doesn't change much in my spiritual health,  but months away and I'm sure I would start to feel the cracks in my soul. 

I have many personal spiritual practices and I think they are a deep way to connect to God. My biggest insights usually come when I'm doing my Examen or reading scripture or writing this blog. But we were made to do faith together. We were made to practice our faith in our living,  not just in our minds.  

I had church today on Facebook. 

A few days ago I posted a blog reflecting on sin and grace and being annoyed with myself. Friends asked vulnerable questions. Confession spoken out loud is sacred. Confession recieved in love and returned in grace is a gift. 

Wrestling with each other about who God is,  what is right and wrong,  how should we live,  who are we and what is the meaning of life is difficult.  We only get one life to live so the answers to these questions and the implications of those answers matter a lot. So we come to church with all our human-ness -- curiosity,  fear,  joy,  anger,  stubbornness and openness and we put up with each other and we carve out a routine together that pushes us each, for a few minutes,  to wrestle with these questions -- not just in the safety of our own mind -- but out loud where other people can hear us - can see us,  accept or reject us.  And where,  we have to in some small ways put those ideas into action -- if we say we should be forgiving,  but then hold grudges against people at church -- we have to live with a kind of discomfort that comes with an unresolved spirit. Eventually,  God pushes us towards forgiveness -- usually. 

Church isn't perfect but it is a kind of medicine for so many things that plague us today : loneliness,  lack of purpose,  anxiety,  pride,  selfishness, lack of patience,  addiction,  comparing our lives social media, feeling like we're not enough.  

But it is a slow medicine.  It doesn't work overnight or even in a few weeks. But it can help us grow strong, find God and meaning and heal from the maladies of modern life if we make space for the ancient medicine it offers. 

Day 9: Science and Faith

 

My boys are all pretty well versed in science and so when they have questions about faith,  God and the universe, they aren't usually simple. 

The first time I saw faith co-mingle with science was in Davis while Ulrich was finishing graduate school.  He was getting his PHD, and so was most everyone else in our bible study group.  There was a geologist, an evolutionary biologist,  Spanish,  botanist and a few other disciplines that I can't remember and we decided -- just for funsies-- to read Genesis. I think our discussions would have offended many people.  They were honest,  open and truth seeking while not leaving everyone's respective professional disciplines at the door. We talked about days of creation and nephilim and the great flood. We talked about what we know about the earth and what we knew about the Bible. It was a safe space to search for God and make sense of what we know about the world. 

My first crisis of faith came as I went through university.  Increasingly I felt pressure to segregate my brain. One compartment for things I learned at school. A different one for things I learned at church. But I couldn't do that.  Questions crossed in both directions.  Faith questioning the "western values" I learned in school.  Science questioning answers the church gave me for history,  science and psychology.  Both circles called me to an all or nothing mentality.  Either embrace science and become and atheist or let go of my brain and critical thinking grab hold of my "traditional values. " I wrestled with this for many years until I found a third path.  

Science and faith use different tools to seek truth and I think to be committed to either you have to be ready to change your mind. 

In science,  new data comes and changes our understanding of things. If you are a scientist,  you have be ready to accept new evidence or systemically prove it wrong. We grew up learning that the tongue had different areas for different tastes,  but taste buds,  which are also on the roof of your mouth and parts of your throat are all able to distinguish flavor. If you would like to nerd out on this,  here's a link: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8956797/ Other prominent examples come from nutrition - the old eggs are good,  eggs are bad for you debate.  

In faith,  new interpretations or understandings can, in the same way,  change our view of God. I'll give a small example.  When I was young I used to imagine the "fruit of the spirit, " as a fully formed fruit made by the spirit and handed to me to eat.  Like Pentecost,  the Spirit rests upon me and suddenly I'm more patient. But over time,  I've come to think of this more as the spirit working in me and makes me produce fruit. This shows God working on me and transforming me over a long period and the fruit of a life lived in faith is a demeanor that reflects the nature of God.

People who deeply seek truth often end of in science or faith.  And sometimes,  they can become a fundamentalist.  Fixed in the ways they learned when they were young.  Think of doctors who stubbornly hold on to older therapies that were tried and true when new guidelines have shown  better options are available or people who just say -- follow the science -- while issuing blanket statements. 

Or, in faith, there are folks who get very black and white when discussing mysteries upon which there are a variety of theological interpretations.  

Some of my favorite people to talk to are faithful scientists who can hold empirical evidence with one hand and testimony and 4 different translations of the Bible in the other. They have a willingness to dance with mystery and wrestle a an angel. And often,  the humilty to be wrong.. over and over again. 

 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known

I have come to cherish this verse. I'm never going to grasp the whole truth until the fullness of time. And until then I can do my best with the part that I can know and.... in the meantime... the verse instructs me... hold on to faith,  hope and love. Especially love. 

Day 8: A day in the life of a homeschooling mom

 

It's 9pm and I'm in the kids room trying to figure out what to write about.  I pulled out John and continued reading a couple chapters.  Hmm. Nothing stands out.  Walk the the Examen -- a detailed reflection of the day noticing when God was present,  and where God felt far away.  Nothing stands out. It was an ordinary day. 

This was just a day to be faithful. So I guess I'll tell you about it. 

It started with school drop off. Well actually, it stated with cleaning the house,  feeding the chicks and getting everyone ready.  THEN doing drop off. Zander forgot his backpack.  So I drove to school twice. 

Nervously,  I stopped by the doctors for my first mammogram which was a quicker appointment than I expected and much less of a big deal than I thought it would be.  

After the morning bustle,  I settled into homeschooling.  I spent most of the day teaching Eddie to write. 

We watched a lecture on Constitutional History and discussed Supreme Court cases from the early 1800s regarding US relations with Indian tribes. There was a lot of meat to talk about. We also just finished reading "The Boy who Harnessed the Wind" about a boy in Malawi who taught himself about electricity and built a windmill to try to better life for his family. Painstakingly,  I helped Eddie reflect and articulate.  Writing is hard for him. It takes a ton of focus and patience to help him.  Luckily,  I love learning and enjoy the classes. 

I cleaned and cooked and attended a work meeting. I dealt with email and I did another round of lessons with Eddie then dropped off groceries and mail to Sonja.   I picked up the other kids and fed them after school snacks. 

As a family,  we're on book 3 of a four book series.  We reached the exciting part last night and they asked if we could "do a read along after school" and try to finish the book. I told them we could after they put away laundry. 

After laundry and chores and homework. We spent all afternoon laying around while I read the last 100 pages outloud. My voice is scratchy. But we finished. 

While I read, the kids made 3D sculptures out of tin foil and for a while,  Miles decided to play in the sprinkler in the back yard. Zander found some styrofoam from an Amazon box and used a screwdriver to carve into it.  

It was messy. 

I did a lot of cleaning up and another round of food before getting everyone ready for bed. Philip pounded classical music on the piano. I checked on the baby chicks and got them another round of water. 

Everyone climbed into bed to hear the last chapter.  I finished reading,  closed the book, snuggled Zander and turned off lights. 

9:00 and everyone is settling into bed and I'm sitting quietly in their room reflecting on the day and trying to conjure up something deep and meaningful to share. 

God did speak to me today. 

Calmed my nerves at the doctor,  

instructed and challenged me through history and literature lessons, 

inspired me as a teacher,  

gave me joy at watching my little image-bearers fall into creative spaces and 

hovered over us as we enjoyed a good story. 

I'm tired and happy at the end of another day of living out this call in this chapter. Im thankful for this time.  It is a blessing to have this time with my kids.

It is an ordinary kind of meeting God.  

Nothing supernatural,  yet small slow unfolding miracles on all sides of me. 

Faith was a verb.  It was showing up and staying present all day.  And now, as the day closes,  I have no remarkable theological insight to share here.  Just a quiet contentment that follows a day that I have been where I've needed to be, doing what I've been called to do. 

If today felt ordinary for you and perhaps difficult to see God. Perhaps,  God was with you anyways. Perhaps, in the ordinary routine of your day,  you too lived out the call of this season. 

This is enough. God has all the rest. 

Day 7: Where the wind blows

 

"The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

Nicodemus came to Jesus at night because he had an itch. He saw something different in Jesus and he just had to know what was going on.  

The whole book of John is full of conversations of people who see Jesus and want to know what's up.  Then when they talk to Jesus, it reads like two people talking past each other. The conversation doesn't make any sense.  

One of my favorite ways to wrap my head around Jesus is the character of Aslan in the Narnia books. He appears and disappears. You think you can predict what he will do and then always they say,  " He isn't a tame lion. "

The more I follow Jesus,  the less I can explain in and the more it fits to say,  it is like the wind.  I can feel it.  I can hear it.  I can know it in my bones but I can not tell you where it comes from or where it goes. 

Today was an ordinary day and I scratched my head all day trying to find God. Trying to hear God speaking and what I might write about.  But I just felt an uneasy sense in my spirit.  Like the wilderness approaching,  but there wasn't anything to say.  I am just watching clouds roll in and I feel the air shift and smell that something that says rain is coming. The breeze feels like rain coming. I don't know how i can say what it is that makes me know rain is coming.  Sometimes it looks a lot like rain but it doesn't feel like rain. 

I pondered the fruit of the spirit that I wrote about yesterday and I thought,  well,  how is it that one cultivates a garden of faith? How do we draw close to God. Prayer,  scripture,  spiritual practices. I've written about these things a lot.  Hmm. I guess I should go looking for Jesus.  But will i find him?

I'll start with this week's gospel.  I can usually find Jesus when I try to write a sermon.  

Nicodemus.  John 3. This verse is so famous. I love it but I have read it so many times. There is not much new to say.  

But I read and watch the familiar scene unfold before my eyes.  I study it.  What do I say?

I love this line -- about the wind. It describes my faith so well.  But how can I write about it. I don't even understand it. It just is like that.  

It was getting ready to rain and I stood wondering how I knew that.  

Because, that's what its like before rain.  

I guess I found Jesus. I don't have great words to describe it but sometimes that's what faith looks like.  

Day 6: Things to remember when I'm annoyed with myself

 

"It's bad when you annoy yourself. "

I've always loved that song from Pink.  It's such an upbeat and honest song. It says...Yep,  I'm a hot mess. I struggle with mental health and I can dance and laugh about it.  

I had the kind of day that reminded me of this song.  

I just kept getting annoyed with myself.  

When you are annoyed at your spouse,  you can pretend self righteous. But when you are mad at yourself,  there's no pretending to be the better person... you just have to sit and take your own licks.  

This is a deep part of Lent. 

This discomfort. 

I want to brush it away and say I'm fine. 

But Lent says,  not so fast buster. 

Taking up new practices or fasting from things reveals something vulnerable, reveals truth about who we are and sometimes that truth doesn't measure up to the person we think we are or the person we want to be.  And to just sit with that,  all day,  to own it wholly,  is to create space to turn away. To repent. To let go. It doesn't feel great. 

Sometimes the annoying part comes from having to repent from the same things time after time,  year after year.  Like come on,  me,  get it together,  I thought we were past this by now. And so I sit in my self irritation looking for a pat to walk away,  again, from parts of myself that bother me the most.  

What's hard is,  often,  short comings are the flip side of strengths. So how to hold onto one without the other. So,  when deeply examining failures and where they come from,  I find myself not knowing how to let go of the bad parts of myself without scrapping the whole thing and starting over -- which isn't really possible anyways.   

The fruit of spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. 

God made me in God's own image and when I was born God said,  "She is good. " 

I think short-comings,  sin,  failure,  self-disappointment, whatever you want to call it,  the inability to live up to the person God created us to be stems from the gap between us and God and when we draw near to God,  we grow these fruits of the spirit which makes it possible to hold on to and nurture the light God has given us, while releasing the dark side of that personality trait.  

Take impulsivity, for example. 

Jumping in without thinking to help others in need is admirable while punching someone in the face who makes us mad is... not the best choice. 

The fruit of the spirit gives us strength to bend the impulsiveness towards courage and away from belligerent. 

I can look at my short-comings and ask how does the spirit transform these things into light? 

What is the flip side of that thing I'm struggling with?

Because as I reflect on that I can find who God created me to be and I can seek the Spirit's help to move toward that version of myself. 

In the meantime, as I sit, stuck with myself,  annoyed and wishing I could take a break from being me 

I remember

I am a child of God

Made in God's own image

Every day, every moment, I can choose to seek the Spirit. I can grow myself a garden and eventually the fruit will grow here - fruit of goodness and gentleness and self control. And that will be lovely. 

Day 5: Overheard at Sunday school

Here's a stick of butter. 

Each child received an item.  

God gives us each gifts. Some of us can run fast and some of us can solve really hard math problems in our heads. Some of us have wild imaginations.  

I need kids with eggs to put them in my bowl here.  Now butter.  Now sugar.  Now flour. When we bring our gifts together we can make wonderful things.  

But do you know what God does?

God sprinkles in the Holy Spirit just like these chocolate chips. God takes our gifts and makes them even better. 

"What about the cooking spray,  who's gift is that?"

Some people have gifts that are easy to see like math and art and music. Some people have gifts that are hard to see -- like helping people get along or helping people feel calm. Making the cookie not stick to the pan is a gift too. 

Put cookie in oven. 

I have a sheet of paper and I would like to give each of you a corner.  But there are only 4 corners and there are 9 of you. 

But when I cut the corners off, now how many corners are there? 8, that's right. 

Do you remember how I told you about the time that Jesus was teaching and people gathered around him and crowded him that he had to climb a mountain so everyone could see him?

His words were so important and interesting that thousands of people gathered to listen.  And they stayed and stayed listening to Jesus. 

Eventually the disciples said to Jesus,  "you should send the people away to get some lunch." But Jesus told the people to sit down on the grass and asked if anyone had any food.

Now, if you had been there with a small bag of snacks and Jesus asked you to share, and you were really hungry,  do you think it would be a good to share? Do you think there would be enough? Maybe the grown-ups would eat his lunch and not give any back to him.  

It's risky to share sometimes.  

But Jesus gave thanks to God and started passing the food along.  Everyone took a little and passed out on. And just like the corners of my paper,  every time someone took a bit there was more for the next person. 

Sometimes God takes our gifts and makes them more.  Sometimes the Holy Spirit adds chocolate chips and makes it better. 

Then the timer went off.  The giant cookie came out of the oven and I cut it into little squares and all the kids ate  and there was enough cookie left over for the adults to have some during coffee hour after church. 

Sometimes God takes our small offering and makes it enough.  Sometimes what we learn in Sunday school is all we really need to know about God.  

Day 4: Beyond Desperate

When my kids were little, I was overwhelmed.  Working 60 hour weeks,  starting my days at 4 in the morning,  just trying to get through. I can't remember how I ended up with it,  but I read a book called "Desperate: Hope for the mom who needs to breathe." It was the first book I had read in forever. 

It was a series of letters between a young mother of 3 and an older experienced mother who had four kids in middle and high school.  Chapters talked about laundry and beauty,  chaos and joy. It was honest.  It was fresh air. Honestsly I don't remember the specifics that well.  But I remember the relationship. How the women had met at a conference and how the younger woman was ambitious and overwhelmed.  The older woman offered her a retreat in her home and the two decided to write a book together.  

At the time,  I very much related to the young mother.  Trying to do it all.  Trying to be a good mom. Wondering if I was doing anything right. I was in awe of the older mom. How comfortable she was in her motherhood and in her place in the world.  She was full of grace and extra space that she could offer those around her,  like the young frantic mother. 

In motherhood groups there's often discussion of raising children in a "village," where kids can run freely between neighbors homes and many adults bear the load of raising them well.  I think this is a lovely image, it doesn't fully convey the reality of living in a village or right knit community. Community is built on reciprocity.  Giving and receiving. Sharing. Overstepping boundaries and asking forgiveness. I grew up in a big family,  lots of people are around yes, but it is messy and there's a lot of forgiveness involved and a high expectation that you will contribute,  do your part.  Whatever that part might be.  

As I've moved past desperate,  and have stated relating more and more with the older mom, I've had a deep desire to be part a village for other people.  But I've found something surprising.  Many people push help away.  It's a hard kind of rejection.  To work hard to make space and live generously to meet a world that would rather relate in transaction -- here's a simple example: 

It's easier and more convenient to pay doordash -- than to have people from church drop off home cooked meals.  I get it.  Door dash isn't that expensive. You can get anything you want.  Exactly on the schedule you want. And you don't have to expend the energy to make small talk with the driver.  They just leave the food and disappear.  Church ladies bring the wrong thing at the wrong time and really it's more of a hassle than helpful gesture.  

You can pay for child care,  house cleaning,  meals to be prepped and best of all you can dictate the terms for these services. You are paying someone. It is their job.  Then like a good shopper,  you can look for a person who has good reviews and provides good values. 

But then,  how can we show up as the church to each other? The very heart of Christian faith is to live as family.  To love each other as Christ has loved us. To bear with each other in patience and forgiveness. To find unity with each other. 

I'm still busy with my own tribe but in the moments I'm able to look beyond my walls to live out my call in faith,  

I struggle. 

What does it look like to show up in a world that is self sufficient?  

Therapy replaces small group Bible studies.  

Paid services replace acts of service. 

Bureaucracy creates boundaries to volunteerism. 

And the church struggles. 

My heart laments.  Self sufficiency creates isolation and loneliness.  The church has such a potent remedy for the afflictions of modern life -- deep connection, meaning and purpose -- cultivated for centuries. And yet so many people choose self-sufficiency and convenience. 

Is there a way to show up as a village,  as the body of Christ,  in this modern world? 

Day 3: Meltdown

Zander has been having EPIC meltdowns lately. 

I've gone into troubleshooting mode. Looking for patterns.  What is the trigger? What's the difference between good and bad days. My best guess is that school academics are ramping up and he's more tired.  Maybe his body is growing. 

Whatever the cause,  they are hard. And I don't have the easy button.  Snuggle with mom and watch a show.  Nope. Just nuclear meltdown with no backup plan.  

Today after maybe 45 minutes, I picked him up,  put him on my bed and said, "Mom loves you so much and you are safe. Im taking you into the shower to help your brain calm down." 

He went limp and let me take him. 

Slowly he recovered.  He played with the water.  He played with the soap.  He found his footing, his calm,  his smile.   

Sometimes, when I'm spiraling, I push back against God. I fight and argue and rationalize.  In some ways,  like Zander,  I want to stay stuck in my meltdown. Like Job, I have so much to say - maybe even to shout at God. 

But God can mother me,  with strong arms,  lifting me out of my meltdown and placing me back in the water.  Remember who you are.  

Beloved,  if you feel tired or angry or alone or ready to kick someone.... May God bring you back to the water and remind you of who you are. 

Day 2: Lent is destroying my house

My house is destroyed.  

Lent. 

Every year we give up video games. This year we added 2-3 hours of completely screen free time in the evening from 4-6ish. No show for Zander when he's tired. No news or email. No homework. It has to be done (which is why there is a little wiggle room).

There is a moment of blank stare. Ummm... what can we do.... and then explosion. Creativity. Games. Reading as a family with special snacks and blankets. Guys, it's been two days and I feel like we're at least two weeks in already. 

My house is destroyed. I keep cleaning and they keep... whatever it is they keep doing. My broom was in three pieces in three different rooms. 

I'm tired and wondering what do i even say about this beyond the obvious stump speech about screens and modern life. There's more. More to this season than just "doing better."

I think what's magical about Lent is peeling away layers of distraction to see each of my kids more deeply for who they are and who they are becoming. Wrestling with boredom pushes them to reach further and find the image bearing self. Creativity. Relationship. Nature. Curiosity. Storytelling. 

A few moments ago, i sat down to write this post with a heart of lament for so many things in the world. I had in mind to write a post on lament because my heart has been so heavy today. But i watch these little light bearers and steadily clean up the destruction behind them, my heart lightens and the corners of my mouth turn up into a small smile.  

The Holy Spirit is here at work. Teaching me what's next for these boys. I just have to keep watching. And maybe watching them will inspire me for things i can do beyond our walls to help the world that my heart laments for.  

The Kingdom of Heaven is a mustard seed. Small and hidden and unimportant. And yet it grows with love and nurturing into something large and mighty.  

Perhaps 2 hrs of internet free time will grow into something beautiful.  

Day 1: We are all becoming

 

As I entered my 40s, I was struck with an urgency to figure out what life might be like after kids. I could sense that I was starting to enter a new chapter.  

Zander set me back a few years,  but soon we were out of diapers and bottles and bouncers. Soon,  the kids won't need as much of me.  Soon,  perhaps a window will open into "what's next" I had quit my job and became a full-time homeschooling mom of 5. None of which had been on my life bingo card,  but it was a spiritually transformative journey deep into the heart of love. 

This year,  Eddie is 16 and we're studying college level subjects. He's taking classes at the community college.  Andrew is close on his heels and Philip not far behind that. I feel time passing and i feel change happening but not with the same urgency that i felt it a few years ago.  Perhaps I've gained a little wisdom.  

Back then it felt like i was edging towards  gradation and people would show up at the party and ask "do you have a plan for your life?"  I felt like i needed to do some deep discernment and chart a direction - professionally,  spiritually, emotionally -- who am i now and where am i going?

But we are all becoming... day by day,  week by week.  Shaped by our decisions and priorities.  Stuck with the voices in our heads who narrate our story and our identity as we roll through our routines and schedules. 

When I was little,  my parents loved reading a book called "the four little puppies" it was a golden book that followed four puppies through each of the four seasons. In each season,  the puppies had fun,  but as the weather changed "they couldn't play the same games anymore. "

I look around my family room.  Building blocks and trains have been replaced with a piano and a drum set. The seasons are changing and my five puppies don't play the same games. the season is changing again... And yet,  motherhood is still very demanding.  I definitely haven't graduated ... and I'm not sure i ever will. But what does God have in store for me in this moment? In this season? What am I called to be - to them and to the broader world?

I was praying about Lent and felt called to a discipline of letting go of the life that was and reaching into the life I am being called into. My younger self would have interpreted this discipline as an assignment in scheduling and short term priorities. And it may include that.  But i think more, it is a call to name who i have become and who i am becoming. To let go of who I was and the parts of myself that no longer fit with who i am and allowing myself to embrace this season of middle age more deeply.  I may also clean out a few closets.

Ashes on my forehead remind me that i was formed from dust. I was shaped in the womb and I've continued to be formed and transformed ever since. 

A few months ago one of my dearest mentors passed away and a few nights ago her widow husband called me out of the blue to catch up. The call was a treasure. We talked about her and what life was like for her near the end.  We talked about her life, her fire,  our trips together (she founded a short term mission ministry and i traveled with her to several countries and worked in her offices as a teenager). We talked about her celebration of life and what it might be like to "know in full" in the arms of God. We talked about his life now,  on his own after 68 years of marriage. Choices he's working through,  adventures he is having. Joy and grief and what it feels like to be 91. 

I met with the principal yesterday.  Miles is growing into a newer, older,  bigger body and facing new challenges at school.  Since i was there,  we talked about Zander in TK and Andrew in 8th grade.  Philip and his adjustment to middle school. 

We are all always becoming.  We are all dust. Formed by the hand of God and transformed again and again as we journey through life. 

Lent is a time to reflect on that.  To find our way home back to the one who made us. Back to who we are in this moment and this season and to who the Maker is forming us to be. 

If you haven't figured out a lenten practice yet,  perhaps ask yourself what can i let go of so that i can better hear the voice of God or what can i step into that creates space for me to open my eyes to the work that God is doing in my life to form me in this season. 

Whatever your Lent be...

May you find God. 

May you find yourself.  

May you allow yourself to be reformed in this new season of life.