reunion part 2

I think I figured it out. I think I figured out, at least in part, why we as humans love reunions so much and why the church does too. I think I figured out why it’s a big red flag for me right now. (And I think and hope this all flows clearer than it does it my head!)

Reunions often relive the glory days or focus too much on the future. Think about it. Whether you’re with your family, at the 20-year high school reunion or just another Sunday at church, we like to check in and take score. What have you been doing? Where have you been going? And the best, do you remember when… Of course these questions certainly help rekindle relationships strained by distance or time, and they can be as innocent as any other. And if reunion goers aren’t reliving the glory days they’re thinking about the future. If only things were this way, or why did this bad thing happen or this unfair deal pass. For those at a church that’s struggling or in transition, Sunday mornings can be a place to grouse once again about how things need to change for whatever reason. For teenagers or college students at family reunions, the constant question about what’s next gets old.

What happened to today? What happened to living fully present in the moment? What happened to grieving when it’s time to grieve, celebrating when it’s time to celebrate, and embracing now for now?

This pseudo reunion/conference I’m attending right now seems to talk a lot about what the glory days looked like and the future when all the “young” people come to church. And for the present, many bemoan the current realities of declining numbers, misunderstanding, and lack of interest. Well what would happen if we lived out our passions and hope now rather than saving it for that glorious day in the future when everything is as we think it should be? What if parents and aunts and uncles asked, “What brings you joy now? How are you living out your talents today?” What if old classmates asked, “What is a bright spot in life? How create those moments and why are they so bright?”

Since reading the book Switch and trying to live with faith, which Hebrews says is BEING sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see, I can’t help but seek something more from our gatherings and conversations especially those with whom we’ve had history. Faith is a PRESENT tense action (BEING). Faith is not something that will be or was awesome at one point. It IS now and with that present faith we can face the present realities in our lives. Of course that doesn’t mean to use the past to give us instruction for decisions. Nor does it mean we’re to forget what Jesus sent before us to do Now and the Future. Faith simply allows us to use these other tenses as motivation for the work and play and life that must be done presently.

Reunions connect people with trust and the gift of that trust is the ability to move together, learn from each other, and be authentic. What a gift for today!

reunion part 1

Have you ever been to a family reunion of a family that wasn’t yours? I think weddings are a bit like that at times because the opposite party is inundated with new names, faces, and lots of history. Hopefully, my future husband will have a chance to meet most of my family, the key players at least including my most beautiful aunt, before getting the pop quiz of a life time.

However, I have experienced this phenomenon where no one is necessarily related.
It’s called church.

There’s a certain joy in entering a church a realizing that its people are well connected and loved by each other. There’s also a certain dread and awkwardness in being the new kid. Without wanting intending to newbies stick out like a sore thumb.
I’m attending a worship conference this week and just on the first day a gal mentioned how nice it was because it felt like a reunion. As a first time attendee, all I could do was smile. I’m sure that woman meant it in a nice way as if to say, “This is a great group and worth being a part of. Just wait, we’ll be calling you sister soon.” WOW…um thanks?

I’ve been trying to come up with solutions for both sides, a fix to the realities of these kinds of paradoxical events. Right at this moment, I have nothing profound. My eyes want to slam shut. But I’m hoping to come back to this thought after Day 2 of “Meet the Fam.”

use your words

Finger paints and popsicles are fun, but alligator tears are not. However, those are realities in the life of a two-year old. So I’m grateful now that I can say, “Use your words,” and the confusion of tears and random wandering is immediately made clear. Oh, is that all? No problem. And can I have a kiss with your blue popsicle lips, please?

I was reading at the bookstore this evening and a kid kept squawking. Squawking turned to long, annoying squeaks and then cries. Looking at my watch, I thought, Mom, go put your little one to bed. Really what child likes to shop for books especially past bedtime? But she continued to chat and the kid kept telling her, without so many words, GET ME OUT OF HERE!

Words make me smile, and while I’ll never win a Scrabble tourney or make it out of the first round of the Spelling Bee, I am utterly grateful we have a way to share all the interesting or weird rumblings in our heads.

But I’m also grateful that God hears whatever our heart says. Whether we have the energy and competence to speak a prayer or just enough life to groan one, God hears and understands us. I’ll use my words to praise Him and thank Him, especially for those times when all I can do is squawk or let the alligator tears fall.

do tell...

Ever hear a story that went beyond your comprehension? A story that was so opposite or implausible compared to your own that it seemed fiction despite the personal testimony?

I love those stories. I love telling those stories of my own outrageous experiences. But admittedly they are difficult to swallow. As a listener, it’s hard to put myself in the other person’s shoes completely. Depending on location and culture, I have a fairly good picture of the physical surroundings and the ways various circumstances such as rudimentary housing, abject poverty, and a palpable desire to survive, could affect a person’s thoughts and feelings. But in the end, there's just enough disconnect to be frustrating.

As the story teller, the vividness of the scenes, the intensity of all five senses and the burning smell of the synapses firing, trying to connect the dots of a new world, are all too much to articulate. It’s like a scientist doing hundreds of hours of research and having to sum it up in a ten-page article. While the results of the research or the successes and experiences of a trip or life circumstance seek the limelight, it’s all the rest that continues to marinate inside.

This thought comes to me tonight as I pray for a team from our church that will return tomorrow from a ten-day mission and cultural immersion in El Salvador. Our pastor has been good enough to blog throughout the trip. However, he repeatedly apologizes for being both too tired and unable to find all the words to articulate how and why the trip has impacted him and the team in a unique way.

Likewise, I had dinner tonight with a friend who lived in a refugee camp for most of her life. She recalled memories from her original home in Burundi and then relayed some images concerning the camp in Tanzania. I desperately desired to know with all five senses and in a heart and soul way what life was like, but my head barely clung to her tale.

From my own experience, it’s a gift to share about times and situations in our lives that profoundly shape us. And each time I return from other trip, look at pictures from an experience, or replay a scene in my head, I realize even more how important that sharing is. I look forward to the return of the El Salvador team, but I am even more excited to help them share, process and grasp the richness of their experience.

As a traveler, always longing to go again, and also a seeker of great moments, I encourage my readers to seek out friends, family and strangers and hear their stories. Most will deny they have such awesome tales to tell, but if honesty comes forth, profound experiences will bubble forth and bless both the listener and narrator.

hope a la mode

My housemate walked in the door this afternoon, dropped her bags and pulled out a bowl that she filled with frozen berries. She proceeded to make a full dinner with broccoli and all…oh and of course the berry crisp! Unless starvation has ensued, neither of us are that commandeering of the kitchen. But she had another mission. It wasn’t just dinner. Or food. Or a new recipe. It was a gift for her friends. Lately her friends have been dealing with the troubles and worries of a complicated pregnancy, one with a lot of questions and few reassuring answers. So my housemate made dinner for the couple and enjoyed a meal and time with them.

A friend from church emailed a bunch of ladies, looking for help. Another church member was undergoing emergency surgery. With boys at home, food had to be provided. So without hesitation, I made dinner for the family. An easy recipe made complete with a warm loaf of French bread was the offering I could deliver in the midst of this precarious time.

A family I love moves to Mississippi in about a month. The couple needed a chance to go out for a “unique” dinner and some time together before packing up their young daughter and heading south. So my sis and I gladly offered to babysit. I brought dinner for us all and then we played with Sesame Street finger puppets.

All these circumstances could have happier parts. My housemate could have gone over to celebrate a couple as they get ready for a new life in their midst. Instead, she just needed to be with them in this less than carefree moment in time. Likewise, surgery or moving don’t wrap me up in warm fuzzies. They are parts of life, kinda the gloomy parts, that have to be lived along with the rainbows and butterflies.

On my way home from babysitting, I thought of how Jesus ate dinner with people who had terrible diseases, women who were shunned from society, and friends who grieved. He could have and often did relieve these people of the heartaches of life, but actually promised to do more. He promised to share a meal, a dinner, with everyone; it was a meal that would help them remember him. This dinner also showed them how life, in all its circumstances, can be endured with perseverance and hope. As the Apostle Paul said, “Hope does not disappoint.”

I realized no amount of ice cream or cards or hugs or petitions to the people in charge can fix a circumstance. I’m good at doing those things. But Jesus didn’t want us to rely on such distractions. He wanted us to remember him because he gives life, and he gives peace unlike any that the world could give. He’s also helps us with perspective which I think is a huge part of persevering. Tomorrow is another day with new possibilities and no mistakes. And when the gloom recedes behind the sun, I’ll take that circumstance in stride, celebrating with a dinner and hope.

Questions

The past couple weeks have taught me a fair amount about questions. We’re all meant to know how to ask them, who to ask, how to ask, and certainly how to write that weird backwards S with a dot at the end of a question sentence. So why then is all of these tasks (save the last) so difficult to really answer?

Innocence?
A conversation I had today with a 5-year old I babysit ignited this train of thought. As we were getting her brothers ready to play in water outback, she asked about swimsuits. “Why do boys only wear shorts and girls wear a swimsuit that covers everything?” Oh the birds and the bees-do I get paid extra for this? ☺ I explained in 5-year old terms the reason and on we merrily went, happily running through the water in a moment’s time. Oh to have her innocence that frees to ask about any and all curiosities. That’s what I miss.

Vulnerability?
One thing that keeps me from asking good questions is the fear of being vulnerable. Oh the assumptions one could make from my question. Oh the inner-character I’m revealing from this inquiry. Oh, the possibility of rejection. Telling it straight is a fine art especially when it comes to relationships. Somehow expressing those thoughts and questions seems as difficult as climbing Mt. Everest, but rarely is anyone that cold to warrant such a fear.

Ignorance?
Sometimes we don’t know what we don’t know. I took a friend to small claims court last week and despite the frustration of the reason for being there, I tried to stay calm when talking to the clerk. But for the majority of us who never have to file a small claim with the County Clerk for such was the case with me, this “talking” us really a lot of staring, searching the clerk’s eyes for any hint of help. What do I need to know? How does this process work? Am I making a good decision? Have I crossed all my T’s and dotted the I’s? I thought of every conceivable question I could and my friend, a refugee from Africa, certainly had no better idea than me.

Insecurity?
Who am I to be here, doing this, with them? I don’t want other people to think I’m stupid, uncultured, or naïve. Early last fall I began work as a stagehand. I handled equipment that was both expensive and unique, making it all-around very valuable. At points I was assigned to do tasks that boggled my mind. You want me to do what, how, where, why? And those questions, though elementary, might have reduced risk of injury and a blown circuit. Yet, among my colleagues, whom I assumed were wise and rolling their eyes at incompetent rookies, I clammed up. I just watched with extra diligence and worked slowly (this is a common trait for rookies seen a mile away). But now, as a seasoned rookie, but very much still a rookie, I learned that part of what make my colleagues wise are their questions and mine to them. We keep each other sharp.

So I offer up a few general questions to contemplate. What question needs to be asked? What keeps you from asking? What can you do to overcome that obstacle?
If you were an animal, what would it be? (Not a general question, but fun don’t you think?)

Old Wisdom, New Ears

Today began the first of four mornings committed to “making athletes out of you.” We’re hosting the 2nd annual track camp at Whitworth. The high school students and coaches alike are relatively new to the Whitworth program and staff, and they’re in for a treat. Toby is funny- at least to the newbies (I was one of them once)- Travis is organized, the throws coaches are huge, and I’m just cute. I mean completely able and competent.
So we started the session with a few house keeping rules (ie “The bathrooms are to your right.”). Then Toby sought initial commitment by telling the athletes to close their eyes and asking them why they came. “Why did you show up and what do you want to take away?” These questions aren’t trick ones and they can be answered fairly simply. But these questions require the athletes to do more than show up. These questions require intentional investment.

Hold that thought…

Following the pep talk, I led the group of over 30 kids through a warm-up. For some, the warm-up might have been a good enough workout for the day but we carried on. I told them to keep their knees up, stay tall and encouraged them with the fact that anything they could do backwards they could do forwards. (Try it sometime.) We even did a set of Happy Jacks so round out the warm-up. Perhaps they weren’t the most applicable, but smiles are just as important to good performance as loose muscles.
Throughout my 30 minutes with the athletes and the following hour with my hurdle crew of 4, there were athletes who just took for granted that they could stand up straight and run much less “play track and field.” And yet, I cheered and critiqued them both in my head and verbally. First days set the stage.

We ended the morning with lots of abs. Lots = 8 minutes. Try it, 8 minutes is a long time. And then Toby gathered us all again to ask, “What did you learn? What will you take away? Now go write it down.”

It dawned on me that the attitudes we bring to life each day we wake up breathing another blessed breath should be checked by this question: What do you want to learn? What are you going to be intentional about? What are you going to take away? It’s easy to go through the motions, bring your knees up only so high, say your prayers only until you fall asleep, love your kids enough to keep them from crying. But we’re told to strive for perfection and commit. We’re told to love God with ALL our heart, strength and mind. We’re offered a choice to go big everyday. However, this choice does not come with an autopilot. Making a choice to love or pray or eat right or do great work requires an intentional investment. Some things we need to do with some automation such as breathing, but we can be intentional about deep breathing for relaxation or breathing hard during a work out.

So why did you show up today? What did you learn? How have you been intentional in your relationships, work, mind and soul?

Recommitting

I just woke up from a Sunday afternoon nap, but didn’t actually want to get up.

I have a few things on my "to do" list, many of which I would enjoy, but they seemed so daunting compared to my soft pillow.

And one such item on my list was to write.

Of course, that “to do” has failure scribbled all over it. It’s like when a little kid asks me to draw a picture. Where to start? What’s the subject? What color crayon?
But adding such a to do on the list was my first real intention at recommitting to my blog, to journaling, and to writing as a joyous hobby. I’ve looked over the number of entries for past months and realized I wrote because I thought there was something worthwhile to say. I was touring the USA with kids from Africa. I was teaching English and kissing giraffes in Kenya. I was running for ridiculous distances (ridiculous for a sprinter).

So here I am, Sunday afternoon, doing normal life, looking at my “to do” list, maybe eating lunch and realizing, writing doesn’t always need an exotic subject. A picture can be a simple pink flower.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t see the value to rehashing the mundane thoughts behind laundry- though I did read an interesting blog from a mom with nine kids who prays as she folds clothes, a prayer for the wearer. I do see real value, however, in putting down one word at a time. Making a switch to act rather than to sloth about.
Part of the gas fueling this ambitious engine is the book Switch by Dan Heath and Chip Heath. They write about the simple things that can change behaviors, attitudes, and realities. They have many profound and practical techniques that I’ve already begun to integrate into my work and personal life. (Perhaps I should dedicate this blog entry to them.) I highly recommend the book but in order for this thought to move off the screen and into action, I invite you to use a few of their suggestions:

1)On your list write: Look on Amazon.com for Switch.
2)Or Look in the telephone book for the library’s number to call and ask if they have it.
3)Better yet, find it on tape. The book’s already read for you. All you have to do is drive while the narrator reads. You’re half way done.

I love writing. I love reading. I love making dinner, working out, practicing music, emailing my friends, even brainstorming and executing projects for work. But sometimes it takes a little more enthusiasm and tactical trickery to get my elephant of motivation working.

Another one of my favorite writers, Anne Lamott, puts it like this. Her brother had a report due on the many species of birds in his home state. As any good teenage student would, he left it for the last minute. Stressed out and only slightly motivated, he sought advise (more in the form of HELP ME, DO THIS!) from his father. The father simply said, “Son, you’re just going to have to go bird by bird.”

I plan to modify my "to do" lists slightly. Say one prayer for someone you know in the world. Stop for 5 minutes and think. Put on your running shoes and go out the door. Pour yourself a half a glass of water. And now another. Write one sentence about what you see out your window. These aren't profound. They're not even interesting. But they're a start, one step in many miles.

his enduring way

Ernest Shackleton gave his life to the exploration, to the craft and most significantly to his men. This Antarctic explorer from the early 20th century led various adventures to the frozen continent, only to be faced with seemingly insurmountable obstacles. And yet throughout it all, his responsibility to his crew drove him to every extreme that earned him great respect, loyalty and deep devotion.
I finished a book about his leadership called Shackleton’s Way. It’s an incredible collection of stories summarized the key elements of his leadership style and skills. I highly recommend it.

As I read the tale and reflected on many of my own actions as a leader or follower but certainly as one who could learn a few life lessons from this great man. One of his qualities that I admire and can relate to is his dedication to his people. From the first to the last moments of a treacherous expedition, his devotion to his people and sincere desire to see them safe and happy at all times gave him the motivation to stay alive and push forward. Those tasks may seem simple, it meant not sleeping for days on end, trekking up and down cliffs for 36 hours straight, and sacrificing and replacing any complaint to an optimistic and encouraging word. In order to keep this countenance he relied a great deal on his faith and on the words of poets and great writers such as Dickens, Shakespeare and Robert Browning. The authors commented that rather than focus on the annoying/aggravating/debilitating issues facing him, he would instead focus his attention on big ideas such as life, love, camaraderie and choice.

This notion both convicted me and inspired me. How often I seek consolation from a willing ear to hear a silly grievance or internally brood over something I deem as a slight or worse? And yet, I have so much to be thankful for. I have been blessed so much. And with most of these simple aggravations of mine, they will pass and be forgotten.

Shackleton sought companionship, honesty, and laughter. He gave out these qualities from his natural personality, his sense of responsibility and joy. May we continue to grow in our ability to give abundantly, request with fairness, and leave the past mistakes behind.