Day 22: When blessings fall into your lap

John 9 - A man born blind.

He was just sitting there, minding his business. The disciples noticed him and asked Jesus about him -- who in turn decided to heal him. Social ruckus ensued.

Today's sermon was about recognizing the God will transform our lives but not on our terms. Usually, I take this to mean that we have to let go of our plan and recognize hardships as blessings that reform our souls and carve out space for God. But in today's case -- it was a blessing that fell into a man's lap.

He didn't ask to be healed. He didn't beg. He was minding his own business and a blessing fell into his lap that completely changed his life.

I look at all the major blessings that have fallen into my lap -- the ability to go to graduate school, meeting my husband, leading ministry, getting pregnant, Ulrich's crazy invention that led to our start-up. The list goes on. Most of these blessings were not something that I particularly strove for, begged for, worked for. They, for the most part, fell into my lap and threw my life into complete havoc.

Last August, I stood nearly in tears looking at the positive pregnancy test. I wasn't ready to have another baby. And yet, God blessed me -- he grows a new life inside of me -- and as surely as all the blessings that have come before -- I know this new baby will take my life in a direction that is unexpected and beautiful.

Transformation happens as we allow God to work in us by trusting his grace in our hardships and stepping up to the new opportunity and direction that comes with unexpected blessings. I think this is what Jesus is trying to explain to Nicodemus about being born from above.

"The wind blows wherever it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit."

Closing my eyes to feel the wind...

Day 21: A date with my 4 year old

Andrew has a hard time separating from me and as a result, it is nearly impossible for me to put him to bed. It seems to be easier on him to have daddy do bedtime. So, when we can, Daddy does nap too. (This helps nap to continue to happen).

Needing to leave the house, I packed up Eddie and took him on a date. The two of us went to Denica's cafe. We bought a flower shaped sugar cookie decorated with red sprinkles for the petals and a white center. We found a cozy booth and sitting across from each other, I unpacked his new game -- Cooties. I remember Cooties being one of my favorite games when I was around his age and we happened to find a brand new box of it at the thrift store for $3.

We spent an hour there, eating our cookie slowly and playing the game. Each of us had an invisible gas man filling up our tanks. We needed some good time together and this was just the thing. I keep a journal of all my fond memories of the kids and of course wrote up a detailed description of our special outing to keep in my heart and to share with him when he's older.

We often think of dates as quality time that we spend with our romantic partner and don't make as much space for dates with other key relationships. But as I reflect on dates, they almost always fill my tank and the person with whom I share the moment -- dates with my mom, with my kids. They are a moment to pause. To stop everything and say -- You are important to me. Worth my complete attention. Worth the resource to splurge and do something extraordinary.

I don't go on enough dates. How much love and light could I bring into the world by stopping and taking time -- just an hour even -- and telling people that God has placed in my life that they are loved and important. I perhaps could do myself and the world a whole lot of good by slowing down and buying a few more red sprinkled cookies.

Day 20: Half-time report

Halfway through Lent and as I could have predicted, what my life looks like on Easter morning is obscured in a haze forcing me to trust God's plan and timing.

For the past 5 months I've been helping to put together this major conference -- which will take place next week in LA. The conference could be an amazing success or abysmal failure of colossal proportions. I have been praying very hard and have a sense of peace about it. But it is hard to not be full of anticipation, wondering how a course of events will unfold.

Our little start-up has continued to make strides in growing up and all sorts of big events lie in the near future. I am hopeful about the path that is unfolding, but like everything else, it is obscured in a fog of uncertainty and I take each step in faith.

Contractions come and go. They are stronger than they have been in previous pregnancies and some of them are really starting to knock the breath out of me, but I haven't seen any real signs of labor. So this baby may, like Andrew, hold out until after my due date -- would would mean sometime in May.

Lent has, already, in many ways re-centered me in faith. Wrestling with God through sleepless nights and dreary days. Re-learning the rhythms of grace. Praying through the stress of my in-box (which has been a fabulous practice). Has grounded me. I still question at times my discernment and struggle with with how to balance the call of motherhood and business. How to make those things each truly a ministry. How to infuse grace and God's presence into my every day. But, the holiness and peace of Lent discipline has settled around me like a thick blanket of snow.

Day 19: Help me stay out of your way, Lord

It was eerily quiet on my email today. T-minus 8 days until my big, fat, hairy, important conference and the day at work was almost effortless. Ulrich and I worked out a rhythm to increase both of the time we are able to work by staggering shifts with the kids. When I've come home, I've spent time focused on attending to them and they've maintained a full cup despite not having afternoons with me.

Slowly but surely I am knocking off to-do items and like I said, my in-box is eerily quiet.

I see 100 small miracles. Easily explainable by circumstance. But instead, I choose to know that God is silently filling my cup. Meeting me where I'm at. Taking my offering of trust and showing me what peace that passes understanding looks like and what sufficient grace is.

I don't know if the conference will turn out well. I don't know when the baby will arrive. I don't know how much heartache lay on the road ahead, but I will take today as a gift. God is on the journey with me and so far has been working things out in ways I couldn't have planned. Opportunities, synergies, traction that I was not entirely expecting. Kids falling into a schedule on their own. Helping with the house. All while contractions continue to interfere with my ability to keep myself together.

I throw up my hands and say -- keep doing it God, you are way better at this than I am. Help me to stay out of your way.

Day 18: Just Be

Ulrich took an afternoon shift to give me some extra work time. I came home late. Setting down my stuff and quickly scarfing food, I sat down on the floor to let the boys have some undivided attention before bedtime.

I sat there on the floor of Eddie's room for an hour and half. I didn't move. Didn't check my phone. Didn't take the lead in play. I just sat. In pace with the kids we drifted from one activity to the next. They brought me toys. I played.

As bedtime neared, I asked Eddie to clean his room before we read books for the night. To my surprise, his lately defiant self happily began cleaning. Andrew helped. Then they settled right into story time. Andrew took medicine and bottle and went to sleep easily as I rocked him. Eddie quickly said prayers after books and didn't get up after I left his room.

I pondered it. Why was is so easy tonight?

I filled their cups. Just me. No elaborate activities. No adventures. No high effort on my part. Just sitting, fully present was enough to make them feel loved, acknowledged and attended to.

Faith can be like that too. Sometimes we don't need miracles. We don't need elaborate church. We don't need deep insight or revelation. Sometimes, we just need to sit and be ourselves with God and know that God is fully present with us in that comfortable space.

Day 17: High stakes

In two weeks I'm helping to put on a giant conference down in LA. The stakes feel high. There are a lot of celebrities coming to the event, a lot of investors, a lot of people and a lot of money on the line ... It feels a bit like planning a wedding but on steroids.

I feel all kinds of pressure to make this thing amazing and with the time drawing close I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day to get it all done.

Additionally, Ulrich's folks left for a 3 week trip to Australia. So, instead of my normal 12 hour Monday, I worked 3 hours today and look out to the rest of the week worried that miracle or not -- there's no way this thing is coming together the way it should.

I think through the possible outcomes -- What if I fall on my face? What if the baby comes early and I don't even make it to LA? What if it's a mess? I found myself in prayer a lot today. I meditated on letting it go. On offering it up. Can God take my loaves and fishes and feed the multiples in LA?

Day 16: God Speaks

God speaks on Sundays.

Despite my better judgement to stay in bed for the day, I was eager to go to church today. This is a John year...(see previous post)...and I knew today's reading was about Jesus at the well with the Samaritan woman. The sermon was surely to talk about God meeting us exactly where we are at. I needed some living water and hoped I would get new insights into this favorite and familiar story.

I sat in church and listened to the reading. The thing that strikes me about the Gospel of John is how confused the conversations are. For the 1st half of the book, most of the time, the conversations don't make sense. Jesus, using simple things as metaphors for the deep lessons of faith speaks right past people. Somehow, they catch on to this and the conversations get very cryptic. But the symbols are so basic and universal that I can't help to catch on water, wind, birth, sight, life, death.

We arrived home after a day of trying to keep the kids occupied in a way that I could rest -- McDonalds, playgrounds and libraries. I was starving. The kids had fallen asleep in the back seat. I turned to Ulrich. "What's the plan of attack for the night? What should we do for dinner" My phone buzzed...."I'll be over with italian casserole in like 15 minutes"

Minutes later a minivan pulled in behind us and a beautiful tin-foil tray with our evening meal appeared. Sometimes God speaks in simple ways.... A tinfoil tray... grace to know we aren't alone on the journey.