Lent Day 21: Micro meditations: letting my heart be shaped by faith

The practice of writing this blog pushes me to be more present in my day. Looking for signs of God, lessons in faith, stories of light and darkness, meaning & character. It causes me to have many micro medications.  Flash moments that I reflect on and wonder... should this be the focus on my day's blog?

Here are a few of my micro meditations from today...

1. All work can be done with passion

At 8:15, I dropped Andrew off to school. Every morning as I pull into the school parking lot,  I am impressed by the woman to volunteers to direct traffic.  She uses large sweeping gestures,  almost a dance,  clearly coordinating who should drive and who shouldn't.  I've never seen anyone direct traffic like she does,  but it reduces my stress and inspires me every day.  If this small job can be done this well, then all jobs have the possibility to be done greatly. I must continue to find ways to do my work as elegantly as the school traffic director.  It is a gift.

2. Take a moment to see the person in front of you

It was a busy day in kindergarten.  The teacher was a little stressed because she was on deadline for mid year report card testing. (She's an amazing teacher by the way... does kindergarten like the other lady directs traffic, it's also inspiring to watch her run a class of 26 kindergarteners).

In the midst of her own world though,  she missed an opportunity to be present. One of the kids was called out of class early.  This particular student had trouble with organization and forgot to put things back. The mom waited as she finished gathering school work.  I noticed that she was fighting to keep it together.  I'm guessing something hard had happened.  A tragedy of some sort. The teacher,  however was doing 6 things at moment and didn't look up to see the mom's face. She started commenting on how she needed to help her daughter be more organized. 

My heart hurt watching this.  Knowing the teacher didn't see.  Sensing the overwhelm that the mom was already feeling. Sometimes we look past each other when we are too caught up in our own stories.

3. Love meets people where they are and pushes them to shine

I had several opportunities today to bring out the best in people.  Kids in kindergarten who I was helping to test. Colleagues at work who were preparing new projects for later this spring. Therapists and Nanny who work with my kids. Ulrich. My boys.  I had a focus today of trying to meet them each in their world and offer tools that I thought may help them shine. Some things were little.  Some things were bigger.  But I was really proud watching growth happen... it was like taking my small candle and helping to light or brighten theirs. Many small lights makes the world a brighter place.

4. Life is a string of beautiful events that we need to make space fully take in. It makes gratitude come naturally...

This afternoon the weather was beautiful.  I decided to walk instead of drive to do errands.  I took Philip and miles in the stroller. Sun shone. I listened to music.  I laughed with the kids.

I met Andrew and our Nanny at a salon where Andrew was getting his hair cut.  When he was done,  his eyes widened ads he looked at himself in the mirror.  He made faces.  He liked himself.

We went to the park and miles sat on my lap and we swinged. He snuggled in to me.  My soul melted.  I journeyed through a 1,000 memories that a pinned to my heart of moments like that. Snuggling babies,  being in love,  absorbing the awe of nature. Life is a series of moments to be grateful for. You just have to be present enough to take them in.

Nothing stood out as a particularly strong lead for today's post.  But, the discipline of writing this blog day after day has gifted me with a second pair of eyes with which to view my day. It keeps my spiritual walk at the forefront of my mind and makes me much more pliable to the sculpting of the soul.

Lent Day 20: God is a parent of Columbine

Today, while waiting for a Miles doctor appointment, I was leafing through Facebook and saw a TED talk by a mother whose son was a Columbine shooter.

I had to read the transcript rather than watch the talk,  but I was intrigued. What do you say to the world after living that reality?

Her story was what it is like to live through that...

To wake up one day,  say good bye to your son and then lose him and bear the unimaginable weight of his last day for the rest of your life. She looks at everyone she meets wondering if her son destroyed thier life. Her grief multiplied by the grief of others.

It struck me...God is that parent, bearing the unimaginable weight of the darkness of each of his children. 

The darkness of every genocide, 
every oppressive regime, 
every ism...

God is that parent. Carrying our darkness.  Carrying that grief.

Somehow, the cross was strong enough to bear the weight of that reality.

Lent Day 19: Impatience

This week's lesson from the old testament comes from the period when the people of Israel are wandering in the desert.  As they do,  they grow impatient and begin to complain. God sends snakes to bite them.  They ask Moses to pray for them.  God takes the snakes away.

It is easy to get impatient with life. The grass is always greener. We so easily forget past hardships and overblow the troubles of today.

The wilderness is not the promised land,  but we are called to be patient with our times in the wilderness.  A sucky job,  another grueling semester, a lonely period,  a stressful time,  thankless care giving for a child or parent.  The wilderness can seem endless.  The endlessness creates despair and despair leads to impatience.

Faith is hard.  We don't know when or if the desert will end. Maybe 40 days,  maybe 40 years,  maybe never.  And God asks us to put one for in front of the other and carry on.  Faithful to our current call,  hopeful for the future. And trust that there will be manna on the way.  All we need to nourish us on the journey.

I think marketing would have a hard time selling

"...wandering endlessly in the desert."

And yet we are called to hard things... going back to school to follow a passion, 
making sacrifices to care for a parent,  taking care of foster kids...
The list goes on..

These calls to the desert can suck.  Especially when you are knee deep in it and no one understands. Everyone else seems to have greener grass.

When I find myself in these types of wilderness,  I feel like the Israelites, ready to complain  about how none of this is fair.  I shouldn't have to deal with wilderness.

I've paid dues... time for some promised land.

I mean don't we all deserve the promise land.

We are doing noble things after all. 

Then...
the wilderness breaks me.
I just can't do it anymore.
And I fine myself with
an incredible need for God
just to make it through and
a desperate hope that
the promise land is out there.

And then Easter finds me.

Lent Day 18: A small still voice

I need to get an amplifier.  Sometimes the Spirit of God blows so faintly that it's almost imperceptible. Like walking into a perfectly organized room where one little detail has changed.  My mind perceives something out of the ordinary,  but cannot put a finger on exactly what it is.

I felt that today.  Like deja vu. Something between a whisper and a breeze.

Life was happening at a million miles an hour.  We went to church and I stopped in on a church meeting before heading over to ulrichs folks house to watch his brothers kids.  Coming home to a mountain of housework. I set myself to the task of 6 hours of laundry, dishes, cleaning, food prep and yard work,  stopping to play with kids or read books in between tasks.  

While the day was in constant motion, it was reflective.  Cleaning and playing with kids can be that way.  And in the back corner of my mind I felt a ray of light poke through. I couldn't put my finger on what it was,  but it felt like the germination of a seed that would grow into a new sense of call.

I have been working hard to be faithful to the call at hand.  Our fledgling business,  4 small children,  ministering to various people in my life.  But I've also felt that there is an insight that I've been missing.  A way of being or a ministry or an opportunity to minister that I've not yet put together.  And for the last while I've been at prayer and in reflection of what more I could bring to the table.  How I might grow in my current life roles to bring more light or if there were opportunities to use my life to better bear witness to God's grace.

Like I said,  I wish I had an amplifier so I could better tune in to the signal that I faintly grasped a various points today.

Like groping in the dark heightens the sense of sound,  maybe lent itself is enough for me to turn up the sensitivity of my ears such that I can tune in to the whisper of the Spirit and orient myself to follow where it leads.

Lent Day 17: Lent is tough

The middle of lent is hard. 

The first few weeks of a fast feel like a craving,  a temptation and so it feels like spiritual work. But but now,  I've often moved past that and the fast (or spiritual discipline) feels pointless.

I usually think to myself "I'll stick it out,  out of principle but I'm not getting much out of this."

I remember thinking this a lot the year I gave up to do lists.  Much of that lent was spent wandering through days wondering if it was such a good idea.... looking back,  it was a very blessed season that brought years of growth.

Lent is like the beginning of spring.  Everything looks dead and yet under the gray and brown,  in the viens of trees and the roots of bulbs under ground, life stirs.

I'm feeling today a little defeated but Lenten disciplines.  Wandering in my own wilderness waiting for God or the devil to show up.  Listening to silence. Waiting for the breeze to blow. In the deep part of my soul, I know this wait is part of the journey. 

If you are also questioning the journey or the wilderness around you or are asking yourself "what's even the point of giving things up for lent?" Hang on.  The middle is hard, but like spring... Easter is just around the corner.

Lent Day 16: Bringing back the spark...

Last year,  Ulrich and I celebrated our 10th anniversary.  I decided I wanted to take time to prepare for it.  As we passed the anniversary of our engagement, I re visited in my mind the journey through wedding preparations.  Losing weight to fit into my tiny dress,  making invites,  planning the home I was going to build for him.  I remembered dinners I cooked him and that amazing,  honeymoon 1st year. We had no idea what we were doing,  but we were so happy to have found each other.

Those who know us well know that we aren't really that romantic.  Pragmatic and driven,  we focus on building the better world we want to see.  Date nights are often retreats for how to better ourselves or our lives.  We are firmly partners.  Comrades in a fox hole together, each taking fire to protect the other. It is very deep, mature love... but it isn't terribly romantic.

As we approached our anniversary and I reflected on the difference between new love and mature love I wondered if there was a space to recreate those flutter heart moments of new love when you are sitting in a foxhole. I looked up the definition of romance...

1. a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love.

2. a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life

Combining these definitions felt like a way to experiment with the creation of romance.  It seemed to involve doing unusual things. Mysterious things.  Exciting things. It was an adventure to be caught up in even as ordinary life carried on.

I cooked new types of food for dinner.  Took us to new restaurants.  Watched new shows and read new books. Little things really.  They were fun.  It didn't quite feel like when we first got married,  but there were moments when it felt even better.

I write this as a reflection on faith.  I think it progresses much like marraige.  Some life changing event that draws us in,  creates an encounter with God or the spirit and changes us.  The early faith is magical. And.. It matures.  Long period of faithfulness with a longing to feel that amazing presence of the divine.  Glimpses of glory brief.  But... we've exchanged emotional charged faith for strength of character and the ability to long suffer with love. A recognition of a larger story,  a multi dimentional relationship with the paradoxes within scripture and a full range of spiritual tools to draw from in support of those who fear,  who grieve or who are overwhelmed.

We've committed to living out our faith and in little or big ways, we wrestle with that commitment in our vocation, our family, our church and even in our hearts.  The desire for a romance with God still there.  To go up a mountain on some spiritual retreat for some deep revelation or to run away emboldened by the spirit and offer healing to some dark part of the earth that captures our attention on the evening news.

I think my experiment in marriage also applies in faith.  Taking on the unusual as a new practice to encounter God, stepping outside the ordinary of life in small ways. It's not the same as new faith but if you are diligent,  you may find a spark or an ember that takes you back...

Lent Day 15: Taking inventory of my ability to be patient

I started thinking about topics for this blog mid-day and I thought it might be a fun exercise to reflect on my patience level.  Which activities did I feel more patience and which had less.

Patience
Doing homework with kids
Waiting at doctors office
Responding to customer questions at work
Sitting at traffic light
Waiting in line

No patience
Wanting to turn and waiting for traffic
Dealing with crying children
Waiting for someone to come to the front desk
Waiting for husband to get home from work

This exercise provides some interesting insight into what causes me to lack of patience:

1. Unexpected delays
2. Interruption
3. No idea how long I will have to wait
4. Feeling like someone is making me wait on purpose
5. Focus on a future goal rather than the present

What creates patience in me:
1. Love or compassion
2. Reserving space and being present
3. Recognition that the wait is temporary and will soon pass

As I reflected on this,  I tried the exercise of drawing from the things that create patience in me when in a situation that causes me to be inpatient...

Love when handling a trantrum or a late husband...
Recognizing the wait is temporary when dealing with traffic...
Drawing myself to the present and not focusing so hard on the future goal.

Breathing and simply saying,  "patience" breathed out my frustration and allowed calm to settle over me.

I can see why patience is a fruit of the spirit.  It is a spiritual practice to push back the human instinct to be insulted by getting cut off in line or reach for compassion in the face of a toddler hurtling a world of pain at you.  Most of the time,  my reactions are knee jerk.  Very little space between action and my internal reaction (even if I don't show out). The spiritual practice of patience (ground in to mothers and caregivers by sheer volume of opportunity to practice it) forces a choice to love in the face of insult,  press on in the face of long periods of discomfort and become present in the ordinary of life.

God is present in patience.  The peace that passes understanding.  The hope that reaches through today's suffering.  The love that draws out a meaning in life beyond ourselves.  We encounter God in these moments..  so I guess,  I can be grateful the next time someone pees on the floor.