The Tie Quilt

When the world shut down,

My mom and I went into the attic and began to clean.

We cleaned and cleaned and cleaned,

Throwing out trashcans full of trash,

Filling up car loads of boxes to take to the thrift store.

 

In the process of cleaning, we unearthed hundreds of my dad’s old ties.

We thought, “Wouldn’t it be neat if we could turn these into a quilt?”

 

Around the same time,

I was chatting with my friend Heidi the Librarian and

Realized that she was a quilter.

She volunteered to take on the quilt-tie project,

Along with a sweatshirt and a t-shirt tie project.

 

One day, we met in the parking lot of Hobby Lobby

For the shirt and tie drop off.

 

Almost immediately,

Heidi went to work.

She completed the sweatshirt and t-shirt quilts rather quickly,

And then she began work on the tie quilt.

She worked. And worked. And worked.

 

Then life happened and she stopped working.

The tie-quilt sat on the frame for months without being touched.

 

The quilt taunted her every time she’d look at it.

She eventually began work again.

One quilt turned into three.

The stop and start continued for months.

Until finally, a year-and-a-half later, she was done.

 

Originally designed and hand-quilted in one-inch squares,

The quilt is absolutely stunning.

 

Naturally, we decided to enter it into the State Fair.

We dropped it off on a Saturday.

Heidi visited it the next Saturday

Only to find out she hadn’t won a ribbon.

We were bummed.

 

We both visited it last Thursday.

We proudly stood in front of it and had our picture taken.

 

There were some amazing quilts at the State Fair.

Ours was a crowd favorite.

It is a family favorite, too.

And it will be cherished for many years to come,

State Fair ribbon winner or not.

7-year-old In Worship

Taps on shoulder,

In a whispered voice,

“My mom told me I could come sit with you because my brother is being intentionally annoying.”

 

And that is how I ended up sitting beside a 7-year-old for the majority of worship yesterday.

 

This is what I observed:

 

7-year-olds, even ADHD 7-year-olds, CAN participate in community worship--

If there is something tangible to guide them.

My church’s liturgy is typed out in an extensive bulletin.

The prayers, scripture readings, creeds, and communion liturgy are all written out so that they can be followed.

The hymns are printed in the hymnbook.

I used my finger to guide my 7-year-old through the entire service.

He stood when it was time to stand.

He read as best as he could when it was time to read.

He sang as best as he could when it was time to sing.

During the sermon, he drew the banners decorating the church.

During communion, he received a blessing.

After the service, he proudly displayed his day’s drawing on the church bulletin board.

There is an entire section of the board reserved for his creations.

I don’t know about you,

But I think that all of this is beautiful.

 

I also observed this:

 

As a musician,

I appreciate holding a hymnal and following the music.

As an educator, I appreciate the same.

Children, in general, have trouble tracking.

Therefore, to put lyrics on a screen and expect them to follow is unrealistic.

In my opinion, it takes away from their ability to participate in worship.

[And this opinion doesn’t even address what children are losing music educationally by not having music to follow…]

 

I know.

There are a lot of worship debates.

Hymns vs. choruses.

Choir vs. praise team.

Hymn books vs. screens.

Bulletins vs. none.

Community worship vs. separate children’s worship.

And I know they can’t easily be solved.

 

But what I learned yesterday is this:

Children can participate in community worship

If there is something tangible to guide them.

I am thankful that I was part of that something tangible yesterday,

And I am humbled by the raw simplicity of a 7-year-old’s worship.

 

“I love you, God” is what my 7-year-old drew on his paper yesterday.

 

I love you, God, is how I end this note today.

Illusion of Safety

I’ve had principals who didn’t go to work very often; I’ve had principals who work every day.

 

I’ve had principals who rarely came out of their office; I’ve had principals who are in hallways and classrooms almost all day.

 

I’ve had principals who led with lots of words but few actions; I’ve had principals who lead with lots of actions and few words.

 

I’ve had principals who left school before duty was over; I’ve had principals who intentionally assign themselves to duty so that they can be a familiar face to parents as well as students.

 

The latter is what happened to me for car duty this year. My principal WANTED to do car duty. He WANTED to put himself in the elements to input the names onto the afternoon car rider sheet. He WANTED to do my beloved job…and so…I’m now the Stop Sign Holder.

 

For the first couple of weeks, both the parents and I struggled with this change in afternoon car rider procedure. I had many parents tell me that they missed me and I was able to say in return that I missed them back.

 

As I stood holding the stop sign, I often felt that I was just an illusion of safety. The teachers in the middle only let six car-loads of students go at a time and they don’t let students move until all cars have stopped. There is a line where the first car should stop. Parents know to stop when their kid isn’t in the car. They know to go when their kid is. It seemed that the job of Stop Sign Holder job was pointless. It seemed that I went from being super needed at car rider duty to not being needed at all…

 

But then I realized that some people actually depend on the illusion of safety; they won’t go unless they see the word “go.” I realized that I can smile and wave at all of the parents and students as they leave. I realized that some students will roll down their windows just to tell me bye. I realized that I can still talk to some parents. And I realized that I can direct traffic when we have the occasional back-up like we did yesterday.

 

Yesterday, three different students didn’t see their names, so we had three cars backed up in line. One car is somewhat normal. We have a plan for that. Two cars is occasional. But three cars is almost unheard of! So I had to think quickly and come up with a plan…and that plan was to direct traffic around the stopped cars. It seems so simple. But it made me feel so important.

 

So I guess I’ve been reminded of a fundamental life-lesson this year. Every job, no matter how seemingly insignificant, can be important. Every role, no matter how seemingly un-needed, can be useful. The fingernail may not be nearly as crucial as the heart, but the fingernail still has a purpose.

 

As Romans 12:4-5 says: For just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we, though many, form one body, and each member belongs to all the others. 

 

I am but one member of a team, a body, and I belong to the others. As such, may I be the best doggone Stop Sign Holder there is! And may you be the best doggone whatever and whoever you are, as well.

Up On That Tree

Yesterday, once again, the liturgy of worship reached into my heart. This time, it caused me to remember.

 

“Holy, mighty, and merciful Lord,

Heaven and earth are full of your glory.

In great love you sent to us Jesus, your Son,

Who reached out to heal the sick and suffering,

Who preached good news to the poor,

And who, on the cross, opened his arms to all.”

 

Back up to my senior year of college. On 11/3/98, sitting at the piano in the chapel at Meredith College, looking up at the cross in the organ pipes, tears streaming down my face, I wrote:

 

Burdened for friends. Upset about my recital. Thinking about Cornhuskin’ (homecoming) and all of the spirit involved, wondering how many people are really hurting underneath the cheer…I can’t draw my image of Jesus on the cross—but it is so real to me and I want to communicate it. So this is it—that image—in words. It is my earnest plea for help—Jesus’ arms wrapped around me—up on that tree.

 

I see you there, hanging on that tree

I see you there, looking down at me

I feel your pain, I feel your hurt

I see your heart, broken for those you love

You’re waiting there, arms open wide

Like I’m waiting here, trying to survive

Oh I see you there, compassion in your eyes

I see you there, I want to come up

 

So you can hold me now

Put your arms around me

‘Cause I need you now

Like I’ve never needed you before

I need you now to help me bear this load

 

I see you there, hanging alone

Like I see me here, feeling alone

I turn from you, head hanging low

But you reach for me, You take my hand

So I slowly climb, up on that tree

A child again, held by a friend

Your blood on my skin, I put it there

My sin on you, but you don’t care

 

You just hold me now

Put your arms around me

‘Cause I need you now

Like I’ve never needed you before

And you need me now

To let you bear this load

 

“Who, on the cross, opened his arms to all.”

 

Amen.

And amen.

Enough

Recently, I’ve been thinking about the difference between “being good enough” and “being enough.” I suppose it’s a very fine line, but, to me, one implies inherent self-worth and value while the other implies action, word, deed, or behavior.

 

I suppose that’s why my Forever Young Authors Entry came out like it did. The theme was “Building and Designing The Future.” I knew that I wanted to write about being a teacher—because teachers build and design the future every day—but I didn’t know that I needed to write about being enough.

 

Here is what I wrote:

 

But am I enough? I often wonder

Under the pressure of

It all.

Life is so big. I am so small: But even a

Dim light

In a dark 

Night shines bright. I

Give selflessly. I

Take so that others might give. I am a

Harbor of safety. I love. But am I

Enough?

For to teach is not to prosper or move

Up in wealth or status.

To teach is not to gain worldly respect. And yet: Nothing is more

Useful than instilling knowledge, wisdom, and values. Nothing is more important than

Raising the future. And so: Yes! I am

Enough. And I will always be enough.

 

What would you have written had you been tasked with writing about building and designing the future? Better yet, what do you think is the difference between “being enough” and “being good enough.” Is there a difference? And do you think you are both, either, or neither?

 

Dear God: You created humanity and called us good. Help us to rest in that goodness and to honor and glorify you with our very lives. Help us to know that the work you lead us to do—however seemingly trivial—is enough and that when we are doing our best to follow you and live in Love then we are doing what is good enough. You are God. And you are good. And we are yours. Thank you. Amen.

Status Quo Bias and Mental Health

 

Yesterday was World Mental Health Awareness Day. It was also the day that I first heard the term “status quo bias.”

 

Very simply, status quo bias refers to the natural human tendency for people to prefer that things stay the way they are—even if change is wanted, needed, or felt called for on a spiritual level.

 

Even though it is often irrational, our status quo bias tells us that sticking to choices that have worked in the past is a safe and less difficult decision than change…because change is hard and inevitably comes with loss and grief…

 

In 2007, I was living with undiagnosed Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder. I was going through the motions of life—working, going to Divinity School, leading retreats, devoting my life to serving others in the name of Christ—outwardly excelling but inwardly falling apart. I carried deep hurt, shame, grief, and self-judgment, and my inner dialogue was very damning. Time and time again, friends would suggest that I see a therapist, but my status quo bias wouldn’t let me…

 

Until…

 

I reached rock bottom and found the courage to seek help.

 

And help changed my life.

 

Has it been easy? No.

 

Has it been quick? No.

 

Has there been grief in letting go of old patterns, routines, and scripts? Yes.

 

Am I still in therapy? Yes.

 

Do I take medication? Yes.

 

Is my faith weak? No.

 

Do I think that God works through modern medicine? Yes. Anxiety and Depression are no joke.

There are true chemical imbalances that sometimes need regulation help.

 

Does my status quo bias still resist change? Yes.

 

Will my status quo bias always resist change? Yes. That’s how we’re wired.

 

But will I let either my mental health or status quo bias go unchecked in the future? No.

 

I hope you won’t either.

 

Dear God: Help us to make changes when we need to make them, even if our status quo bias is screaming at us—especially if the changes involve our mental health. You have given us bodies, minds, and souls. Help us to take care of them—always. Amen.   

Representative

 

I’ve been teaching mariachi music for the past two weeks.

For those who don’t know:

Mariachi music is music that originated in Mexico

And has five main instruments:

The guitarrón, vihuela, guitar, violin, and trumpet.

(Ever so often, you’ll see a harp, but a harp is not necessary for mariachi.)

 

Even if you aren’t familiar with music,

Then you’ve probably heard of and seen a guitar, violin, and trumpet in your lifetime.

They are all common instruments,

Originating from Europe,

And played in a variety of musical settings.

 

The guitarron and vihuela, however, are specific to mariachi music.

They originated in Mexico,

Are instruments of the people,

And are much less common than the guitar, violin, and trumpet.

 

So when I showed a video clip demonstrating mariachi instruments to my students

And the video didn’t include the trumpet or violin,

I asked my students why they thought the video left out the violin and trumpet.

I was expecting them to say because they’re more common, or

Because they’re used in other types of music.

I wasn’t, however, expecting anyone to say 

Because they aren’t representative of mariachi.

 

Whoa! Wow! Bam!

What an amazing answer!

I, myself, had not been so perfectly specific in my language as to say

Because they aren’t representative of mariachi.

But that’s exactly what I was trying to teach my students.

The guitarron and vihuela?

Representative of mariachi.

The banjo and mandolin?

Representative of bluegrass.

The string family of instruments (violin, viola, cello, and bass)?

Representative of the orchestra.

 

Me?

Representative of…

And therein lies the question.

What do I represent?

If a video were being made of my life,

What would the video’s subject matter be?

Would it be faith, hope, and love?

Or would it be doubt, pessimism, and hate?

Would it be the fruits of the spirit?

Or would it be the fruits of this world?

Would it be Jesus?

Or would it be a selfish me?

 

Oh God: May my life be representative of you, for You Are Love. Amen. 

No Shoes

 

What is the dumbest or most ridiculous thing you’ve done lately—either intentionally or unintentionally?

 

For me, hands down, it was unintentionally leaving my house with no shoes!

 

Let me explain.

 

I got my new bifocals on Thursday. They made me sick on Thursday night and Friday, but I knew that I had to try to get used to them, so I decided to try to them on Saturday—only I left them in my car on Friday night.

 

Not wanting my eyes to have to adjust from my old glasses to the new, I left off my glasses while I got ready. I carefully did my bathroom routine, got dressed, went downstairs, made my breakfast, talked to mom and dad, got my wallet, keys, and phone, made my way to my car, and put on my new glasses.

 

I was relieved that I didn’t immediately feel sick and happily drove off to meet a friend for coffee.

 

About half way into the twenty-minute drive, I noticed that I didn’t have on shoes. Thinking I had just slipped them off, I felt around for them. No shoes. Then I realized what I had done: I had forgotten to put on shoes!

 

In my blind haste, I skipped that step of getting ready! In my anxious state, I was so focused on the top of my body that I forgot the bottom!

 

My plan was to meet my friend for coffee, go shopping, and take Cracker Barrel food home for mom and dad. Without shoes, my plan wasn’t possible!

 

Thankfully, the coffee shop wasn’t crowded and the owners let me sit in the corner with no shoes. But after that? I found a drive-thru, went straight home, and then laughed hysterically with my mom when I told her what I’d done.

 

So again, I ask you: What is the dumbest or most ridiculous thing that you’ve done lately—either intentionally or unintentionally?

 

Please share. I need to know that I’m not the only one 😊.