Lent Day 14: Leaning on grace to fill my gaps

Little things today,  made me keenly aware of my shortcomings...

Banter between moms waiting to pick up kids reminded me of how abysmal I am at small talk or making friends in general.

Work and projects at home reminded me that how I lack polish that takes decent work and makes it great.

Wresting kids to bed reminds me how much work I still have to do on patience.

I've struggled with all these (and many other) shortcomings since I was a kid.  Having a hard time making friends, polishing and taming myself and my work.  I never seem to be able to fit myself into a nice box... I'm more of a colorful sprawling mess.  It irritates people.  I try to pull it all together,  but often my efforts,  going against my own grain blow up in my face.

Life is a wrestling match with ourselves.  Our innate flawed nature.  Taming those bad pieces and strengthening the light. Finding vocation and life circumstances that allow us to be the part of the body God created us to be.

As much as we might find the right fit,  the right vocation,  calling,  for our lives,  we inevitably run up against our shortcomings.  Failing short of who we want to be.  Lacking the light and the love we want to offer the world.  Limited by the same old things that we swore we had put behind.

Today... like other days like this...i lean on grace. I realize that my struggle with my broken nature enlightens me to evidence of the Spirit working in my life.  How could I possibly see the hand of God if I assumed my own strength orchestrated every outcome? Accepting my limitations opens the possibility of ordinary miracles and a dance with the divine that makes something out of a jar of clay.  Takes my water and turns it to wine,  and then feeds 5,000.

Days like today I don't get how that would happen.  But, days like today are exactly what I need to be open to the possibility.

Lent Day 13: Fool's for Christ

My mouth curved into a smile as I cracked this week's readings. The new testament reading comes from 1 Corinthians:

"For God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom and God's weakness is stronger than human strength."

My mind is taken back 20 years when I was trying to find the verse that comes later in the book...

"We are fools for Christ"

My brothers and their friends had formed an off-beat theatre troupe that did quasi-improv comical interpretations of bible stories -- think veggie tales meets mystery science theater 3000 and you'd be close. They were silly. They had fun. They were light to the world.

I was inspired as I watched them practice, build props, make their own t-shirts. It was striking to see a large group of teenage boys so focused.

Initially, the church didn't quite know what to think of them. But slowly, they were invited to perform during church and then at special performances and then they traveled to local churches to perform.

Today, I as I reflect on those fool's for Christ and today's reading -- I am struck that yes, God's foolishness is wiser than human wisdom. Performances were initially a way to overcome the boringness of church. But more deeply, it was an invitation to more deeply encounter the scripture that laid a foundation of their faith. All of those boys grew up to take active leadership roles in the church. One became a pastor. All of them carry the experience as foundational.

I think about my Facebook feed and the ongoing debate about guns and school violence. Maybe there is space to learn from God's foolishness...

Lent Day 12: Crocus's in the snow

Growing up in Michigan, February was the hardest month of winter. Scratch that, March was the hardest month of winter.

Days were dark.
The cold, bone chilling.
The monotony, endless.
Gray. The lifeless world darkened the soul.

Then one day, crocus's blooming underneath the snow sent the first ray of hope that spring would someday come.

Like the dove who returned an olive branch to Noah as they awaited land. The crocus brings the first indication that the imprisonment of winter would soon be over.

Yesterday afternoon, the first cracks of my voice started coming back.

Before it is over, Lent will grow quite dark. But, keep watch for pale lavender petals that fight their way through the snow to bear witness to the light that is coming. Like the pillar ahead of Moses and the rainbow for Noah. God's promises manifest in the world around us as a reminder that God travels with us as we go.

Lent Day 11: I want to do things my way...

Today's sermon focused on the gospel lesson.  Jesus begins to describe the suffering and death he will face. Peter stands up and says,  "Never." Jesus rebukes him with "Those who save thier lives will lose them.  Pick up your cross and follow me. "

This is a hard lesson.  One that I've been meditating on quite a bit lately.

I often find myself relating to Peter.  So excited and passionate about what Jesus is doing and yet skittish when rubber meets the road and following Jesus gets difficult.  But,  also like Peter with many reminders chipping away at my heart and mind,  and I reluctantly let go of my own agenda to embrace a harder road.

Jesus doesn't give up on Peter and seems to smile at his enthusiasm like a mother admiring her toddler who colors up and down the hallways with great vigor. Continually correcting and encouraging. And like a toddler,  Peter keeps trying... getting out of the boat to join Jesus on the water. His heart is in the right place, but his vision is short sighted.

My take away is that God has unlimited patience to teach and guide us as we mature in faith.  Using the moments when we completely step in it to teach and reshape our hearts.

I may not understand God's ways. I might protest that suffering or self sacrifice shouldn't be part of the journey or complain about injustice that continues to plague our world.  I might scream and throw a fit.  "It's just not fair, God"

God may rebuke me, or put me in time out until I am calm enough to hear.... And then, when I am ready for it,  gently unveil a limited version of the truth that I can grasp my little mind around. One day,  I'll get it.  Till then,  grace.

Lent Day 10: God makes strange and beautiful things...

God has blessed me with odd children whose interests and curiosities expose me to things in creation that I would not otherwise learn about.  Today,  that was the element bismuth. Bismuth is a metal that forms crystals when cooled slowly. They don't look like they could be natural,  but rather made by the craft of a skilled artist. Looking at it,  I'm actually surprised I've never seen jewelry out of it. (Bismuth is also the main ingredient in Pepto Bismal, BTW)

I've learned about neutron stars and the swirling formation of our solar system.  We've explored succulents and sea life that lives at the bottom of the Mariana trench.  And still,  they find new wonders to bring me to learn about together... Those little minds are wonders too.

One alternate reading for this Sunday is the story of the transfiguration,  which I think I've seen in the lectionary before but it surprises me again to see during lent.  The story tells of Jesus walking up a mountain with his disciples. When they reach the top,  Jesus begins to glow and is joined by Moses and Elijah. And Peter is like... woooh.

Some days it is good just to be awed by God.

Lent Day 9: Eeeking out every last drop of productivity

This afternoon I found myself lying on the floor playing paw patrol with Philip.  The house was relatively clean.  The kids were  in relatively good shape and there were still several hours until Ulrich would be home from work.  As I laid there,  my mind churned.  "Is there anything I could get done right now?"

The last several years have taught me to multitask and eek out every last drop of productivity out of life. There's way more to do in a day than there are hours.  So stack things up and I'll get more done.  I scanned the room...

"walls need touch up,  front windows need cleaning... I need to lay here so Philip can play with me. I should just be present"

I pulled my mind back to the moment and drove my cars around.  Miles climbed on me.  My heart smiled. The moment was beautiful.

And yet,  a part of me was restless.  And a part of me felt guilty for feeling restless.  So I thought I would reflect on it for tonight's blog...

I work so hard because I feel the need to be what everyone needs... to be good at my job, to be a good mom,  to be a good friend,  sister,  daughter,  etc. I feel the need to be good and to do good.  I think many people do.  We draw our own conclusions about our self worth according to our accomplishments. I would like to do something for this world and I would like to matter.

But in this ongoing reflection on pride,  I accept that my self worth is inherent.  I was made in the image of God and my life matters.  I cannot change that.  All the busyness of my day, the achievements in my life do not move the needle on the inherent value of my life.

It is hard to accept this because I want to deserve it.  I want to say I matter because I worked hard and I earned it.  But I cannot.  The universe is vast and my life is so very insignificant in the span of time and also so very significant because life is a gift. It is granted. It is beyond our control.

And so I am free.  To lay on the floor and play paw patrol with dirty windows.  I am free to use my gift of life to change the world.  Regardless of my choice,  my life matters... And so does everyone else's.

Lent Day 8: Waiting is hard

Waiting and uncertainty.

Combine these and you get one of the most uncomfortable of human conditions. Waiting with certainty allows you to make peace with the outcome.  Uncertainty without waiting is like ripping off the bandaid, get discomfort out of the way quickly.

Unfortunately, God seems to like using this very uncomfortable state to deepen the spiritual journey.  40 years of wandering in the desert, 40 days of rain,  7 days walking around the walls of Jericho. Scripture is full of examples of waiting out uncertainty over long periods... perhaps the longest of which is the wait for the messiah, the day of redemption, the final defeat of darkness.  The faithful wait and in our waiting,  we meet God.

This week's scripture is the promise to Abraham that he will one day be a great nation. I think the story struck me harder since I work in the infertility space and walk along side those knee deep in heartache that accompanies the seemingly endless wait for a positive pregnancy test. Abraham was already old when this promise came.  After lifetime of childlessness, he had probably finally made peace with the inability to conceive.   This promise was like a cruel joke that thrust him back into the throws of uncertainty.

Lent has a way of bringing me into a wilderness of uncertainty.  I do my best to resist the urge to make knee jerk decisions to resolve my inner conflicts. Rather,  I try to purposely sit with it.  Like an unresolved chord or a crooked painting on the wall, the feelings tap on my impatience. Breathing in and saying "Just wait.  Easter is coming. " I let the uncertainty stay, an unwanted guest,  I pull up a chair and offer it a place at the table.

If you are feeling your way through an uncertain fog... peace be with you and may the journey strengthen you.