Things Blow Up

When I turned 16 my dad taught me how to change the oil in my car and how to change a tire. I sort-of paid attention, but not really. I have no interest in cars outside of their practical use. So, breaking down on the side of the road is way up there on my list of dreads. I always fill my car up with gas - I am not one of those people who gage the miles just so I can inch by on the last 1/8 of a gallon - I fill up as soon as the gas light comes on.

Today, as I was leaving seminary, I stopped to fill-up - just to be sure I wouldn't run out. I hopped in my car and was on my way. All of a sudden the car began sharking violently and most of my control over the car was lost. I was able to pull over to the side of the road. I got out, and started to walk around the car. I had no idea what I was looking for, since, as I said, I know nothing about cars. But as a approached the rear tire, the problem was obvious. Flat tire.

We are not talking about just a low tire here. It was totally blown. Holes in it - on both sides. There was absolutely no way I could drive it; I was an hour and a half from home; and...I certainly don't remember that tire changing lesson my dad taught me. I distinctly remember thinking - "Why do things have to be soo hard right now?"

Two separate times I was asked, "Geez, what did you do to this tire?" It was that bad. Why is everything blowing up?

Needless to say, I was not happy. I was cursing and frustrated and wishing I was home. But here's the thing - I saw all these angels today. Things do blow up - but then there are these angels that show up.

*A woman turned around, came back and got me, and drove me to the seminary.
*The song on the radio was singing, "if you put your light with my light, we'll make the world a little brighter".
*A good friend at seminary is a whiz with cars - drove me out, filled the spare, took the blown tire off, and put the spare on....followed me to a tire store.
*The men at the tire store met me as I pulled in - "You need a new tire?"...Uh, yeah. 5 minutes later, brand new tire on the car and I am on my way.
*Grandma was at the house to get the kids, so I don't have to worry about them.
*It wasn't raining or cold (this is huge for me).

The truth is I was scared, crying, and frustrated and simultaneously incredibly aware of people, even strangers, loving me through it. That is an amazing thing.

Things blow up...my tire was just a reminder to me that this is so true. Angels show up too...lights and love, hands and hearts joining together to put things back together.

Ask you shall receive....

I have this sort-of funny thing going on with my youngest son involving communion. Most parents I know have children that either take communion or don't - really no in-between. And, in most churches there is a given 'practice' involving communion. Some churches begin communion whenever the child desires (or the parent), some churches it's the 2nd grade, some churches it's 5th grade, and some others still it's 8th grade. The "acceptable" time to commune is up for discussion.

Cooper, who is now 6, really fits none of the categories, accept the first - whenever the child desires. He's the in-betweener kid. Last year on Maundy Thursday we were involved in a Seder Meal. Cooper listened attentively the whole time (at least as well as a then 5 year old boy can). After this ritual, we all went up to the sanctuary and stood in a circle. As the bread and wine were being distributed, he cupped his hands and looked up into the pastor's eyes, as if to say, "Me too. I am a part too. I love Jesus too. This includes me too."

I think about that a lot. I know that Cooper understood, as fully as any of us do, what the celebration of Holy Communion is about. And I think as we grow and wilt, ask and deny, open ourselves and close ourselves, we all come to new and fresh understandings of communion and God's love for us.

I haven't gotten to the funny part yet....this year we returned to our home congregation after being gone a year. Cooper decided he didn't want to take communion anymore - he said he wasn't supposed to. And - I thought it didn't really set a good precedent me up at the altar forcing him to take communion (that surely can't be grace...). So, he stopped taking it, also excusing himself by saying he didn't like the grape juice. I let it go. Besides, there is precedent for those not feeling worthy to come for a blessing as they confess their sins, instead of receiving bread and wine (although I don't necessarily agree with this - who among us is worthy?).

Today though, just a few weeks before Maundy Thursday, he cupped his hands and looked up into the pastor's eyes... different pastor, same feeling. The pastor looked at me, looked at him; Cooper looked at me, looked at him. I said, "Okay. Yeah, give it to him." He asked. What can we say to that?

Ask and you shall receive - it's the promise of Jesus. Ask for grace, ask for love, ask for forgiveness, ask for just a foretaste of all that God has promised to each of God's beloved children. Because when we ask - we receive, one way or another.

Expectations and Anticipations

Today I got dirty. The sun was out and I had some weeds to pull in my garden. I had looked forward to this since the weatherman predicted a mid-week warming. I expected to have a lovely time, anticipating the smell of the earth, squirmy worms, and the promise of planting tomato plants soon. These are the things I expected. But, when I invited my youngest son to help me out, I 'found' something else.

"Cooper, do you want to help me pull weeds in the garden?"

"No," he said. "Why not? It's great out," I asked.

"Well, I'll help, but I'm digging for dinosaur bones."

Well, you and I both know that Cooper was not going to find a dinosaur bone here in Northern Virginia. His expectation was intoxicating. The whole time we were out there, he kept digging. And every time he would hit something, he would say, "Mom! I think I found one. I bet it's a T-Rex."

After a few of these I said, "Do you really think you are going to find a T-Rex?"

"Maybe not a whole head, but maybe a tooth, or at least a crystal," he says.

I smiled. Expectations. Anticipations. Maybe I set mine too low? And, maybe it doesn't matter if I set them too low or not, because today a mischievous, red-headed six year old, surprised me and reminded me that there are still numerous discoveries to be made.

irony

My youngest son and I have been coloring a large poster together (see our work!). My oldest son looked at it and said:
"That's ironic. Cut down a tree to make a poster that says 'Save the Rainforest'."
Isn't that ironic? Good point...

Snowed in or out as it were....

So true:
Remarked to me by my nine year old son today upon our first big snow storm -
"Snow sure wouldn't be such a treat if you lived in Alaska. And recess would really suck because I bet they wouldn't let you even throw a snowball. You'd probably be lucky if you got to build a snowman. It's pretty great for us though, huh, mom?"

Pretty good perspective...

All-You-Can-Eat Buffet

Every once in awhile one of my kids says or asks something, which is very innocuous at the basic level, but then the more it rolls around in my head, the more profound it seems. I often wonder if the depth of what their statements conveys is known only to me or if I read into things too much. A little of both, I guess. At this point in my life, as we all embark on a new Lent, it feels more like God talking. So, here's a little portion of how a conversation went with Jackson (age 9) today...maybe it'll speak to you.

I'm folding laundry as Jackson curls up on the couch and asks, "How come we don't celebrate Mardi Gras?"

"Hmmm," I am thinking, "well, we sort-of have before. Remember last year at CLC (my internship congregation), when we had the Pancake Supper? That was on Mardi Gras or Shrove Tuesday. It happens the day before Ash Wednesday." I am fully aware that my answer is insufficient and don't go into spiritual disciplines of fasting, remembering we are dust, and simplification. For some reason I think it's just too much for him (maybe it's the mom in me protecting his self-esteem - yes, I know...pride can be a sin...).

Jackson says, "But why eat pancakes before Ash Wednesday?" Exactly what I was trying to avoid. "Okay, here it goes," I am thinking. So, I say, "Well, Ash Wednesday is the day we start Lent, which is the 40 days which lead up to Easter. And during Lent we remember and try to focus on God and what has been done for us in Jesus. We try to simplify things. So, people eat pancakes before Lent as their last chance for awhile to over-indulge."

Jackson innocently states, "So, I guess we're not going to be having pancakes for awhile?" I laugh and say, "No, we can have pancakes..." He says (and this is what I love because it's simple and profound ), "Yeah, I guess we could have pancakes, but definitely no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' - that's definitely out of the question."

So - no 'all-you-can-eat buffets' for Lent, no 'it's all about me', no satisfying myself with things which ultimately don't satisfy. I'm hoping during Lent this year I can sit simply with God at the sparseness of the foot of the cross and be fed on the simple offering of bread and wine - then I really will be full.

Warm Weather Friends

Last week the weather was incredibly warm here in Washington DC. It seemed to be that way across the nation. In a matter of days, we went from 7 degrees to almost 70 degrees.

My running partner and I were out one morning and she said, "Listen. It's a bird - a sign of spring." It really did sound like spring, and with the warmer weather, even at 5:30 in the morning, it felt like spring.

I said, "Yeah, it's just a tease though. I can't really enjoy it because I know it's not going to stick around."

"I don't know. I think of it more as a respite. We have 7 more weeks of winter regardless - might as well get a break to help us get through the rest of it," she said.

Hmmm.....a respite, not a tease. I think she's on to something. Enjoy the moment. Take the gift that offered. I consider myself a "half-glass full" kind of person, but in that moment I realized I was wishing parts of my life away just because they are filled with darker, colder days. And - when I was given the respite, the chance to bask in a little warmth, I wouldn't even take it in because I knew it wouldn't last.

I've had some darker days, some days that I wish had never happened. I think we all have. I've also seen some amazing things come out of the darkness and cold. Do I wish some of those harsh winds hadn't blown into my life? Yes. Have I seen beautiful gifts of warmth and song come about? Yes. Is there a certain sweetness to the smell of spring in the very midst of death? I think so.

You know, the cold weather's back. The respite is over. But I have this new perspective. The twist of it all is: having had the warmth, having had the break, having had the brief encounter with tranquility and birds singing, I know it'll be back again. And that, that promise of good things to return is something to hold onto. It's not a tease of something you can't have for good, but a promise of what is always around the bend.