Expect/Accept

EXPECT and ACCEPT. Funny how these words are so close in sound and yet have a great deal of difference in meaning and consequence. In the many realms I live, these words can get tangled up and blurred. Kids are content ACCEPTing hugs, discipline, wisdom, and tickling. Adults EXPECT deadlines to be met, conversation, traditions to be kept, and cute but pointless jokes from 6 year-olds. Travelers see these lines blurred; they EXPECT to be searched at the security gate in the airport and they ACCEPT the 3-1-1 rule for liquids.

The point I ponder tonight has to do with God, his love, his grace, and his truth. He invites us to ACCEPT these as a gift just as a child ACCEPTS a bedtime story. He invites us to ACCEPT the paradox of his character: merciful yet just, one God in three, life for all from a death of one, graceful while truthful. That’s a big invite. More than to an “Over the Hill” Party or 60th wedding anniversary. It entails more than showing up; it requires all of us because that’s when we have fully ACCEPTing God. I can’t decide, however, which is more difficult, ACCEPTing or EXPECTing. What a stretch for me to EXPECT miracles, blessings, healings, perfect timings, moving mountains. Just as we are invited to ACCEPT God for who he is, the ACCEPTing means we actually EXPECT mighty things of, from and for God and his glory. If we didn’t, then we deny part of God’s character, that which changes lives and circumstances beyond our control or understanding.

I so often live the blurred lines of ACCEPTing and EXPECTing all for and from God. But I appreciate that God ACCEPTs this paradox in me and EXPECTs growth and molding. Without the grace and the parental-like motivation, I would merely ACCEPT whatever and EXPECT nothing.

running away and back

When I was a little kid, there were days I wanted to run away. I would pack my little blue suitcase with nothing much, maybe a scrunchie and socks, and walk out the front door. My mom surely said something unreasonable like a clean room had priority over playing- silly rules. Or my little baby brother was getting ALL the attention with his teary BLUE eyes. AHH! Life outside had to be better. The ice cream man would give me a lift and a free Flinstone pop on my way to Granny’s house or the park, anywhere but my house.

Once out the front door, the blue sky and singing birds annoyed me. Why couldn’t they frown with me or call me to fly over the rainbow with them? Then I had to decide where to go- the tricky part since I wasn’t carrying a sleeping bag with me and I’m not so much a wilderness, all-out survival girl. A girl scout, but we have provisions…I digress. What made the journey even harder was the length of our walk way and drive way. Each time I left the house with my blue suitcase, the path seemed to expand (maybe in the summer sun?). Really by time I got to the garage door, I would end up circling to the other side of the house. Without fail I started singing a slow, lovely show tune from Grease, Music Man, Little Shop of Horrors- really whatever my dad was in at the community college. Once I sang out all my woes to the tree and maybe shed a tear or two, I resolved to go home, meekly to the door but clearly perturbed as I made my way to my room. I might have felt better but no need for anyone else to get off so easily.

Many times over the last couple years, I dreamed of running away to Africa or Europe or anywhere really. I thought nothing could be any worse than here. Responsibilities would be refreshingly new and yield greater benefits. Yeah, there would be challenges, but greater hope and caring for one another. A true sense of brotherhood, sisterhood. Eventually, it dawned on me, there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to find the sort refuge and utopia I envisioned. Everywhere else experienced similar turmoil, devastation, hopelessness if not more that surrounds me.

So I have to work it out here. I can’t run from the failing economy because the rest of the world is feeling it too. I can’t run from hunger, unemployment, homelessness, indifference because I would run right back into them.
But despite it all, there’s a blue sky overhead here, in Uganda, and even in Ireland sometimes. Birds still fly and sing and trees still provide shade and strong companion when I need to vent. And stomping to get things done can work, but most the most important thing is walking back and deciding to move forward, making the rest of the day and situation a positive one.

movie: unconditional

Tonight I saw a new favorite movie, The Secret Life of Bees. Its simplicity and honesty captured my heart and mind as it brought forth the idea that we all need and seek love, truth, a chance and guidance. Most of the characters struggled to grasp these realities or what should have been realities in their lives but weren’t. A few struggled in their giving since the recipients didn’t see the gift as unconditional. Some ignored the need of love and truth while others didn’t know what they were missing.

May was probably my favorite character. She had a twin, April, who had died earlier in her life and since then, May felt all the weight of the world on her. She made a wall of stones, her wailing wall, where she went to place notes when things were distressing her. But it was amazing how happy and joy-filled she could be even in the midst of the troubles around her. Despite the dichotomy and awkwardness of these emotions especially to the rest of the world, she seemed the most free to express herself. She allowed herself to feel in a real, if even extreme, way which showed love and compassion.

In the end, so much of the story reminded me of God’s grace and truth for me and you. I wanted to shake a couple characters and say, “Don’t you realize, you deserve love. The abuse or neglect is not your fault. The fear of the future doesn’t have to rule your life and ruin relationships.” I bet God wants to do that to us sometimes. Maybe not shake so much as squeeze a big hug of understanding of his unconditional love into us. I can see him wanting to run through the sprinklers with us and wail at the wall as our hearts break along side his. What a freedom and gift to share these moments with our creator, the one who knit us together and knew us from the beginning!

movie: family

The movie helped me remember we each have our place in a family. The characters names were April (deceased twin to May), May, June, August. While each of these women were connected by mother and father, they all supported each other in different ways. August supported them for the most part, June acted like a bouncer (she had “don’t mess with my people” eyebrows) and May helped in the kitchen. It was May that kept them all in check with fun, June to do her eyebrows and August to teach and exemplify love. I appreciate that they didn’t blame each other for their short-comings, those characteristics that might seem less than worthy, nor did they covet the personalities of the others. They fulfilled their role, not out of obligations but in response to how they were made as individuals but a part of the larger family.

Such a solid ground provides a refuge for those who don’t have it. But I never said these women came from situation of ease, cookies and cake. They, too, were met with struggles. So what does that say about our response to who we are no matter where we come from? It means we have an opportunity and responsibility to take care ourselves, our family and others all at the same time. In doing so, we create a world where it’s safe to cry, safe to spray water on your older sister, safe to laugh, and safe to ask questions. Such a world shouldn’t have to be revolutionary, but to some it is. It’s our choice to make it a new, solid, traditional reality.

the sea remains the sea

A switch over will occur in the next months. People will go and others will come. While I wish those I know all the best and am proud to be friends of such faith and obedience, I’m going to miss them as some of my favorite folk (especially in the laughing department) and as competent, creative workers.

In thinking about my own situation (which might be too revealing to those who actually read this blog) I’m content with the commitment I’ve made thus far. Maybe because I’ve done and made that commitment, I don’t have many reservations about staying. In the midst of all this talk of change, it’s easy to start thinking of my own transition. But it’s kind of like the heptathlon my sophomore year. It sucked, it hurt, I was exhausted but because I had committed to the season from day one (one being that hot July day before freshman year when I started running for real), I knew those irksome feelings would pass. The next mountain top experience would come, maybe even that year. Sooner than I expected. The ebb and flow went hand in hand. So when Nationals came along, of course I was elated and glad I hung in there.

Consistency is another word that comes to mind as I think of change. It's an reality we try to maintain at least on the road with the kids. Without it they would be exhausted, cranky brats. I need it in my life, too. Not a whole lot has to remain the same, just the important things. Like talking to my sister before I go to bed. Reading my Bible when I wake up. Going for a run or playing outside. Being as human as I am, such consistency is impossible to maintain 100%. And the foibles also lie with the others I come to depend on. Thankfully, I know God hears this prayer. This exhaustion in my heart when consistency is replaced with chaos and confusion. The consistency of this job, the fact that I have one, albeit random and uncertain at times, keeps me calm at least for now. And thinking of the future throws me for a spin sometimes. But I’ll continue to be committed to who I follow now, what I do now and where I am now. That commitment can be the consistency in my life.

“It is true there is ebb and flow, but the sea remains the sea.” Vincent Van Gogh

leaves still fall

Leaves fall in the season.
On some they tumble in a violent storm,
On some they float as if in slow motion.
They always end up on the ground
As if banished from a limb for treason.

This yard the leaves buried;
No ground is missed, no spot is bare.
Other lawns get a sprinkle.
Depending on reaction, the owners are rested
Or in body and soul, completely wearied.

One can’t avoid the falling leaves
They come in season.
But does one gather them to clean up
Or for play with the kids
When they get crunchy bits in their pants and sleeves?

Or does one leave them for no reason?
She doesn’t want to deal with the mess.
He could care less how or where they lay.
Regardless the effect and response,
They will still fall in season.

A little walk around the block offers a good catalyst for a little pondering.

Go Big or Go Home

It’s an incredible joy to be in a real house again. To say go and see what I expect. To focus every light with the proper colors. To hear a crisp, clear sound, and have space to move, change, and work off stage. The stage hands are great: efficient, fast, friendly and they were proud of their job. I love that. Why it’s such a unique situation is beyond me. Over the past couple weeks I have run into various people who enjoy work. Mike is the cleanest and most precise sound guy thus far and all of this good service is accompanied by an upbeat attitude. Kim at a truck stop with Taco Bell had fun with her co-worker. Not only did they get the job done properly, but they played a game to see how fast they could get it done which made all of us chuckle.

Does my attitude communicate a similar love for my job or do I just go through the motions? I’ve met too many people on the road who just do what they can to get the job done and leave. Of course, they’re not paid or compensated for the extra energy and attitude adjustment, but I doubt I could find a person who wouldn’t appreciate this extra bit of intentionality and optimism whether at the coffee shop, gas station, hair salon, bank, office, or school. What would a world be like if these unique moments of people going above an beyond become common place? Would the standard go up again?

The hypothetical utopia of attitudes and actions doesn’t have to be so fantastical. Instead we need to examine our motivation and reactions to circumstance and see if they are suitable or if they’re just the easy/lazy answer. One of my coaches said to do one more push up then what we thought possible. If I could do 25 in a row, I should do 26 just to make sure I gave my all. Push ups are easy to count and better, but that doesn’t mean they require any less intentionality.

Thoughts along the same vein from Anne Lamott in Bird by Bird:
Anne Dillard has said that day by day you have to give the work before you all the best stuff you have, not saving up for later projects. If you give freely, there will always be more. This is a radical proposition that runs so contrary to human nature, or at least to my nature, that I personally keep trying to find loopholes in it...You have to give from the deepest part of yourself, and you are going to have to go on giving, and the giving is going to have to be its own reward

Merry Election

Election Day reminds me of Christmas Eve. I was thinking of writing this yesterday as it would have been the eve of the big day, but for me, much of the built up excitement is lived out on Election Day and Christmas Eve. Election Day is the final day of preparation and busyness before history is made. We might know the results of this presidential election the moment the booths close, but in all reality, nothing really sinks in until the next day. The baby is not born until midnight though we know he’s coming. The voting is done, staying up late watching electoral votes being added by sophisticated machines and the country being colored red and blue on any news program of choice comes to a close, and celebrations and/or moments of mourning die off. Then we wake up the next morning, knowing that conversations and more celebrating/mourning will happen just like presents and ham dinner come on Christmas Day. But somehow the midnight hour makes the excitement and anticipation drizzle into content feelings of life as normal. A thanksgiving is given- it’s over, the advertisements are gone, the decision has been made. The baby is born. So now it’s time to live in the reality of that miracle. May the excitement of Election Day move us to live this day and everyday as an incarnation of our convictions with which we voted.