Swirling Thoughts

As I sit to write, my mind doesn’t focus on any one thing. So many things are swirling around.

--On Tuesday, I had to work very hard not to let someone’s rudeness affect my attitude towards him, and then towards others. I was tempted to be rude in return, but managed to pray silently for God’s mercy for him.

--For my birthday, I decided not to wait to see if my sons would remember and do something. I invited them out for dinner. If I want to be together, then I need to take the initiative.

--And then today, I am overwhelmed by how fragile life is. A thirteen year-old boy just getting involved in a church youth group was killed along with his sixteen year-old brother and his mother. What would lead a father to take the lives of his family and then his own? What was the pain that took away hope and led to violence and destruction?

At the seminary today, for our devotion a student read the Beatitudes in Matthew from two different versions. In the TNIV, verse 4 reads “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” In The Message, it reads “You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”

I think about the father at the end of his rope for whatever reason and wish he could have known the embrace of the One who is there when all else feels lost. I pray that the relatives and friends of this family can know God’s embrace in the midst of the shattering pain and grief. I pray for the young youth leader who spoke with the younger son just hours before his unexpected death. I pray for the pastors and congregation who must offer God’s embrace in the midst of their own pain and grief.

In the midst of swirling thoughts this day, the still point for me is God’s mercy, God’s embrace. As we grieve those we have lost, embrace us, Lord.

Matthew 5:4, 7

“You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.”

“You’re blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.

The Wind Blows

I stood at the window this week and watched the trees being whipped by the wind. It would come in great gusts that shook the branches, and then it would die down, only to roar back through. I saw the trunk of the mighty oak out back sway back and forth. Already one large branch was down and several sticks were scattered around the yard. This is the oak that is part of the name of our house—Mary Grace Oaks (Mary Grace for my mother). I find significance in this tree. Fortunately, the storm passed with no more damage done.

The day after Jeff died, our neighbor came to the door to tell me a branch from the oak had fallen in her back yard. It hadn’t done any damage, but she wanted me to take care of it. I told her about Jeff and she said they would take care of it. While I know that in Virginia I am not liable for branches that fall from my tree into someone else’s yard, I was concerned about it. Our neighbor has a day care in our home. I did not want a branch to fall and hurt a child, so last Fall I had all my trees cleared of as much dead wood and risky branches as possible. Then the derecho blew through on my brother’s birthday at the end of June. While we lost no trees, we did lose a lot of healthy branches that fell next to and onto our neighbor’s fence.

As I reflect on the power of wind and the havoc it can wreak, I am also mindful of the wind as an image Jesus used about the Spirit. We can’t see the wind itself; we just see what it moves. We can’t see the Spirit, but if we are mindful we can see the effects of it in our lives and in the lives of others. It can be difficult to discern where the Spirit is in the midst of the havoc that the wind creates. Right now, I am trying to discern what I need to do about this beautiful mighty oak in my backyard. It is strong and can withstand a great deal, but my neighbor is anxious.

As many branches have fallen in our lives over the past couple of years, requiring discernment and decisions, this one seems symbolic of all the rest. How is the God’s Spirit moving over the face of the deep?

John 3:7-8

Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Not a Tow Truck nor a Helicopter

Talking with another mom this week, we both shared stories of how we sometimes fall into the trap of dealing with our kids’ difficulties for them. She told of how a child told their mother something about her child, and then the mother spoke with her about it, asking her to speak with her child rather than getting the children to speak with one another about their conflict. Of course, when our children are very small, there are many things we need to take care of for them. As they grow, however, there is more that they can and should handle on their own.

A lot of ink has been used in articles about “helicopter parents” who hover over their children’s lives making sure to smooth every difficulty. Like nearly every other parent, I want my boys to do well, to not have to face too many problems, but the reality is they have to learn to deal with tough situations. I have made many mistakes in my years as a parent. I have been learning better to give them space. I can’t soothe all wounds and smooth all rough places, and I shouldn’t.

I find helpful the metaphor of God as the One who sits on the curb next to us as we wait for the tow truck to come. God is not the tow truck. God is not the knight in shining armor who comes to rescue us. God is in the trenches with us. And that’s how I want to be with my sons, as well as with others in my life.

It’s hard work as a parent to watch our children struggle and sometimes fail, but the reward for them is so much greater when they learn that they have the ability to figure many problems out on their own. It is the work of a lifetime to find the balance of when and how to help and when and how to let go. God offers us grace but doesn’t make us accept it. God allows us to make mistakes along the way, but is always there to encourage us on the journey.

Relationships are what it’s all about really

Relationships are what it’s all about really. That was what I took away from my breakfast meeting with a new acquaintance. We met so I could get some advice on how to proceed as we (C²UMC and I) explore a possible risk-taking mission for us—a residence for persons with Intellectual Disabilities. While John, the director of L’Arche in Arlington, gave me tips on aspects we need to consider, he emphasized that the most important consideration is how the congregation wants to be in relationship with the potential residents. Other entities can provide services. What we can do best is in the area of relationship.

This is true in so much of life, all of it really in my way of thinking. Last night, as several young adults and I talked further about finding purpose in our work lives, for many it’s the relationship with co-workers and others that helps to make the biggest difference. That’s what makes it all worthwhile for me—the people with whom I am privileged to work.

That’s what I see modeled in the Trinity—a holy mutual relationship, one that is most concerned with the other, pouring out grace upon grace, inviting and welcoming others into the relationship. I see that lived out around me in so many ways—in how Matt greets me with a hug and often a kiss; in how Barbara makes quilts for babies she will never see; in how Bill searches for someone to repair a windshield that doesn’t belong to him; in how Bridget welcomes hurricane survivors into her home. This is no theoretical idea. This is flesh and blood, and Holy Spirit relationship. That’s what it is all about, really.

2 Corinthians 5:18-19

All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ, and has given us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting the message of reconciliation to us.