Day 6: Interceding with groans

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.

Everyone was a little out of sorts.  Time change is hard on small kids and even harder on parents of small kids.

Little children rely on the rhythm of life to help them have a level of self awareness. When the schedule gets off,  they cry.  They don't even know why.  They just do.

As a parent sometimes this routine disruption catches me off guard.

"Why on earth are you crying?"

But eventually,  I put two and two together.

"You need food. You need a nap. You need me to hold you. Your little world is broken and you need me to fix it. "

I realize my overwhelm doesn't look too different. I'm melting down at the end of a day and I don't know why. I don't know what I need. My little world is broken and I don't know how to fix it.

In those moments, the Spirit intercedes. Knowing my heart,
my mind,
my soul,
my needs,
my weakness.

The Spirit meets me right where I'm at.

In the middle of my tantrum.

This meditation is making it way easier to deal with all the crying children around me. Sometimes someone needs to be our rock when the world is big and overwhelming.

Day 5: Marriage

Sunday afternoons are a time set apart for checking in on the marriage.

Every week, we drop the kids off at my mother in laws and we go out for lunch.  Some weeks we sort mail and discuss finance,  others we plan next steps for the business and sometimes we go on long walks and do hard communication about issues between us.

It's a kind of maintenance like doing laundry or changing the oil. If we miss a week or two,  no big deal but if too many weeks go by we can feel the strain somewhere. We get out of sync and begin to rub.

Sometimes life is stressful enough that even our weekly outing isn't enough to cover all the things we need to cover to keep the marriage healthy and we find ourselves emotionally overdrawn. In those times I find myself wanting to take Sunday afternoon for myself. A little "me"time is far more inviting than continuing to push through and talk it out, work it out and plan it out together.

Ulrich never lets me off the hook.

"We're doing this."

And so we do.  Week after week. Issue after issue. Compromise. Communication.  Togetherness.

God calls us into relationship.  God calls us to love.  And I've found no better place to practice and live this call than in my marriage. It's easier to love people if you don't have to deal with them day in and out. Loving someone who leaves towels on your clean floor is harder. And the practice of extending grace to the person who can most easily press your buttons makes it easier  for me to save space for people I meet in passing.

This Lent I've decided to commit to giving a bit extra to this loving endeavor. Not nagging,  even when I'm fully justified to do so.  Not pushing my agenda. And fully showing up on sunday afternoon ready to give first and receive second. Not gonna lie, biting my tongue doesn't come easy.  But it's lent.  It's not easy.

Day 4: Bedtime fears

My kids are at the age of night time fear. On various random nights, a small face appears by the side of my bed following a nightmare or unable to sleep due to scary thoughts.

I remember being that age and creeping into my parents room.  It was like magic.  No matter how scary the dream was it seemed to melt away if I crawled into their bed.

The other night my oldest lingered in the living room long after bed while I cleaned up. 

"Go to bed. "

"I can't. I'm too scared. "

"What are you scared of. "

"I don't want to talk about it.  I know it's going to happen eventually. "

"Are you scared of someone dying?"

"I know it's not for a long time,  but i'm going to die some day. "

I remember the first time I pondered that.  I remember thinking that some how I would understand it when I grew up and it wouldn't scare me anymore.  I remember growing up and being completely pissed that it still bothered me.  I remember talking about it with someonewho was aging and realizing that it is something we wrestle with our whole lives.

Eddie and I talked.  I shared some of the thoughts that helped me when I wrestled with those night time fears. He smiled at me, relieved not to have to hold in all the heaviness of his heart.

I wish God had a bedroom somewhere that we could creep into in the middle of the night when the thoughts are too loud to sleep.

Faith is trusting into the unknown.  I've made the decision to lean into faith even when I don't know what lies ahead.  God has shown up and walked along side me up until this point and faith is trusting that in those moments when my soul is most in need of peace that passes understand,  it will be there.

Day 3: Judgement

I just finished a 4 day audit of our company's manufacturing documentation.

I sat on one side of the table, the auditor on the other.

He requested documents.  I gave them to him.  He asked questions.  I responded.

Have we followed every regulation? Do I have documented proof of every decision made? Every product built? Properly documented inspection forms for every wire, screw and battery we bought?

Judgement is uncomfortable. I knew somewhere in the paperwork there would be typos or missed spaces. I knew there would be issues. But I still had to sit,  calmly and own every mistake, even if they were made by other people. With time I've gotten better.  Less defensive. Less stressed. Ive come to accept that there will always be things to fix and if I am open,  I can learn from the process.

But today as I sat there,  I imagined what an audit of my soul might look like.

God on one side of the table, me on the other. 

He pulls out the file of my life.

"Explain why you made that decision... "

I think many moments would leave me speechless.

"Um,  well,  I don't really have a great explanation for that. "

"Can you show me evidence of the kind of person you intended to be?"

"Well there were these six events where you can clearly see that I did a great job implementing my intentions to love and forgive and be generous."

"And on these days?"

"Well,  that day i was tired and that day I was overwhelmed.  I mean look at everything that was going on. Clearly I couldn't have been at my best. "

"Let's open to May 13, 2004. You woke up at 8:30am. Let's walk through the entire day. Who did you talk to? What did you say? What words were left unsaid? What did you do? "

And so it would go.

I tend to think of myself as pretty together.  Generally of good character. I can justify myself and my actions.  But if my life was held to an audit where random days were selected and analyzed in detail, chances are high that I would have said or done something that I would be embarrassed to have to explain.

Audits are a healthy part of organizations and, I think, a good spiritual practice.  To find the courage to open ourselves to an honest reflection of who we are and what we've done opens us to possibly of learning from our past to grow us into the future of who we want to become.

Not easy though. Looking in the mirror is hard. Accepting judgement on whether you've lived up to who you want to be is super uncomfortable.

Day 2: Forgiveness

This morning my patience was tested.

I was doing good on the morning routine. Lunches in progress, snuggling babies, plenty of time to get ready for school. 

I got Eddie up.

I got Eddie up again.

I got Eddie up again.

At 7:30 Eddie was still dragging and I yelled. 

“GET UP! YOU ARE GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL.”

Andrew looked at me. “Mom, you broke your lent. That was a rude voice.”

My heart sank. 24 hours in an I had yelled. I felt bad. I also felt the urge to justify.

“He’s not moving. He’s going to be late from school. I needed to prompt him to get going? Is there another way I could have done it?”

“You’re right, Andrew. I’m sorry.”

Later…

I had a long drive to visit our manufacturer for an on-site audit. During the hour ride, I decided to take a crack at responding to an email I had gotten a few days ago.

It was an apology.

It was one of those situations that get us all twisted up. It was broken. Dysfunctional. The kind of situation we sweep under the rug and forget about. And yet, years later…. An apology arrives in my inbox and I am invited to respond.

Emotions swept over me.

“What should I say? How much grace do I extend? Do I also need to apologize? What about all the things... what about the whole mess left by this thing...”

My mind oscillated between a gentle grace-filled response that I can take following a time of healing and a time in the past when I was angry and hurt. We hadn’t spoken. I had so many words that I had gone around in my mind since that time…and now I had an email to boil it all down and send her a response.

I thought about how I had yelled at Eddie and my self-justification for my actions and my apology.

I gave her the benefit of grace. She was in a particular place and time. She had justifications and excuses for the things she had done. But, she had courage. She wrote a note and apologized. I took time to find kind words and apologize for my own contributions to our strained relationship.

Forgiveness is hard. It’s hard to apologize. It’s hard to forgive.

Day 1: Bootcamp

Lent has been a punch in the face this year.

Last week I was sick with a high fever for 7 days which broke just in time for me to walk into a 4 day grueling audit of our manufacturing systems.

Randomly, I got a note from someone with whom my relationship is severely broken requesting forgiveness and a favor. 

I got another note inviting me to collaborate on a project that opens me to vulnerablity.

I got another note expressing gratitude for sharing my lenten journey in the past and looking forward to sharing it again this year.

And my eldest son couldn't sleep because he was afraid about what it would be like when eventually he will die.

Ok, God, you have my attention. I'm not sure what you are up to but I sense you have some hard lessons for me to swallow this year.

I wrestled with what I might give up or add to my life  in response to God's invitation to work hard on my heart. 

Here's what I came up with.

Flavored beverages: this includes caffeine but more it is a need I have to get small happiness throughout the day by lovely flavorful drinks.  Plain water is so boring in comparison but it is a constant reflection that my joy springs from deeper sources.

No yelling or nagging: I want to set aside my own agenda and put on a robe of patience with my family.  It is easy to slip from guiding everyone along a path of growth to pushing everyone to respond to my needs and lack of self control.

Early morning work: This is the hardest.  I typically get up at 5 and head out to work.  The 2-3 hour session in the morning is so focused and I can get nearly a full days work done.  I'm giving this up as a recognition that work and productivity are not my top priority in life. Living into my call certainly calls for an amount of productivity but it also calls for a depth of soul.

During these days,  my meditation is on the things of the soul and the path that God is calling me to.

Not gonna lie,  I arrived to this day kicking and screaming. I don't want to do the hard work of reconciliation or vulnerability.  I would much rather be productive and in charge with my diet coke in hand. So,  this sucks.  But it's lent.... the promise and the joy buried somewhere in the journey is deeper than the things I leave behind. 

Easter: The light is overwhelming

I was so excited for Easter to be here. I bought cinnamon rolls and was looking forward to breaking an Easter Vigil fast with glorious sugar and butter. I was ready for trumpets and lilies and alelulia church.

The kids,  however,  were not.  It was an autism day.  No one could put on the church clothes that I picked out. And the day was filled with melt downs of a variety of flavors.

My heart sank.  "Can't we just color eggs and dress up for church like everyone else?" My hopes of a holiday in C major settled into a minor key melancholy tone. I gave myself a time out and fell onto my bed exhausted.

I thought about the first Easter.  They weren't happy.  They were sad and then... scared out of thier minds. There wasn't an hallelujah chorus.  There was a still garden drenched in sunlight after a long dark night.

The light is fierce.  I pulled myself up and decided to go out into the sunshine.  I sat with miles in the front yard pulling weeds. The warmth on my face sank into my soul.  Maybe I'll let the light fill me...

I gathered the kids and we went for a walk. The day blazed with a brightness that couldn't be contained.

On Easter,  God cracked the darkness and let the light flood in.  The light is overwhelming.  Especially when it finds us after long exhausting periods of life when we'd rather roll over and sleep in the comfort of darkness.  But if you close your eyes and let the light warm your face it can seep slowly into your soul,  melting the chips of ice on your heart and reach to the ends of your toes.

The tomb was empty.  The women were terrified. The disciples were confused.  But the light had broken the darkness.
And the light is overwhelming.