On Being Present

 

I recently helped a friend tackle a monumental task.

Though I spent all day at my friend’s house,

Sorting, cleaning, eating, talking, hanging stuff, and moving stuff,

When I left that evening, I honestly didn’t feel that I had done much to help.

There was so much we didn’t get done and so much left to do.

 

Fast-forward a couple weeks and my friend is still working on her monumental task.

Here’s the deal, though.

She told me that if I hadn’t gone to help her a couple of weeks ago, then she would still be stuck trying to get started.

What seemed like an insignificant amount of work to me was actually very significant to her.

What seemed small was actually large.

 

Used to, my biggest goal in life was to make a difference.

I wanted to change the world.

I would often get discouraged, feeling as if I wasn’t doing enough to make a difference.

I often felt like a failure,

Like nothing I did mattered,

Because no matter how hard I tried,

I couldn’t get rid of brokenness, heartache, and hurt.

 

Now, my biggest goal in life is to be present.

And when I’m present, I’m making a difference.

I may not be changing the world on a broad, sweeping, existential level,

But I am changing my own world,

And the world of those I’m with,

Just by living.

 

Will every moment be remembered?

No.

Will I even be remembered?

Not forever.

But while we’re here,

While we have this opportunity to live,

We get to influence one another and make a difference in each other’s lives,

Even when we don’t feel like we’re doing it.

 

Oh God: Help us to be present with and for life. Even when our presence and actions seem insignificant, help us to remember that they are significant to some and that lives are being changed and worlds are being shifted. As life becomes increasingly tense and we feel more and more overwhelmed and helpless, help us to remember that sometimes the smallest actions are the biggest and that even they can make a change. Help us to use our voices and our bodies for the good of all humankind, for that is what you have called us to do. Amen.

Dirty Car

 

I spend a lot of time in my car.

Despite my best efforts to keep it clean,

The mess inside sometimes gets out of control.

This has been the case recently.

 

It started back in March when I went on a weekend retreat.

I took my keyboard, keyboard stand, guitar, and guitar stand,

And then I was too lazy to unload them when I returned home.

After a couple of days, knowing that I was going to need the instruments again in a month,

I decided to just leave them in the car,

This decision meant taking down the trashcan from the back of the passenger’s seat and

Not having access to the back passenger’s-side seat at all.

This reality meant cramming everything into the back driver’s-side seat

Or into the cracks of the cargo space.

And boy did I have it crammed with

Papers, hats, shoes, clothes, tins, bags, programs, a French horn, trash, and more.

 

Thankfully, after my April retreat,

A friend came to the house to help me unload.

She knew that I would be exhausted and not want to do it,

So she showed up and propelled me forward.

We unloaded all the big instruments and did a quick clean of accumulated trash,

But we left the little stuff—

Papers, hats, shoes, clothes, tins, bags, programs, and more.

We also returned the trash can and put up the backseat.

 

On Saturday, my parents rode with me to my nephew’s soccer game.

Before we left, I consolidated all the “stuff” into the back driver’s-side seat.

Little did I know that when we’d get to the game,

My brother would walk to the car to greet us,

It would begin to pour down rain,

And we would need to make a place for my brother to sit.

 

As he was throwing a field day change of clothes, my bookbag, a hat, a raincoat, a stuffed animal, a world map, and seven pages of French horn music to the cargo area,

My brother joked, “My goodness, Dee. Are you living out of your car?!”

I was slightly embarrassed because I knew the car was dirty,

And I hadn’t been prepared to take in a passenger.

 

I think this is how it is with our lives sometimes.

We get so busy and accustomed to living with our messiness  

That we aren’t prepared to offer help when someone outside us needs help.

…

 

May this week be the week that we clean out our cars

And hearts

And minds

And make the space for others

When they need us.

 

Amen.

That's All

When one works two very public jobs that each have weekly—sometimes daily—deadlines to meet, the private things in her life—like cleaning her car and room—sometimes fall by the waste-side.

Such is the reason that I spent around 15 hours cleaning my room this weekend. It was full of un-put-away clothes from last week and stuff that had been gathering from my car for the past couple of months. I’m pretty sure I had at least ten paper purple Hallmark bags full of gifts to sort through and a couple of other bags of random stuff. When I brought home a new Vera Bradley travel duffel bag the other night, my mom said, “Dee. You didn’t need another bag.” I just smiled and thought, “Yes. Yes, mom, I did. Because all of my other bags were occupied and I really didn’t want another purple paper Hallmark bag.”

“And just what was in all of those purple paper Hallmark bags?” you ask.

Gifts.
Some gifts purchased for specific people.
Some gifts purchased because I knew that one day I’d find someone to give them, too.
Some gifts purchased simply because I liked them.

So my job this weekend, after putting away my clothes, was to unpack those gifts and either prepare them for immediate give-away or find somewhere to store them until Christmas. In order to do the latter, I had to make storage space…which added a few hours to the cleaning process…because things got much-much worse in my room before they got better…which…they finally did get better. Thankfully.

I discovered something sad during the unpacking process, though: one of the gifts I was most excited about giving was broken. Evidently, I left the bag in the car for too long and stacked too much stuff on top of it too many times for the mug not to break. A glass picture frame broke as well.

The mug that broke was part of a series called “That’s All.” I bought this particular mug for one of my friends who has been fighting cancer for the past couple of years. The mug said: “You’re the strongest person I know. That’s all.”

Initially, when I realized that the mug was cracked, I was pretty upset. But I almost immediately had this thought: Even those of us who appear to have it all together have cracks. Even the strongest of us have weaknesses. This will not be a drinking mug. But it will be a pretty awesome object lesson.

And that it is, friends.

In so many ways.

The Candles Burned Again Today

I gave my mom the rest of my summer Mondays for her birthday.

For today’s Mom Monday, mom decided that we should stay home and do chores. Our main chore was to go through some boxes of candles and continue getting ready for Nana Camp. Currently, as part of an on-going clean-up and -out project, no upstairs room is ready for occupancy by anyone other than me.

Friends, I am a good organizer.
I can sort, file, and clean with the best of them.
But I am terrible at throwing things away if they could possibly be used again and/or redeemed in any way.
This is not a new realization.
I’ve written about it before.
But I was reminded of it today as I found myself lighting almost every candle that mom gave me to throw away.

“There’s nothing wrong with this,” I’d say.
So I’d light the candle and let it burn…
Until all of a sudden I felt sick because I had so many different candles burning that their smells overwhelmed my senses.
Then I had to lie down to recover.

As I was laying on the couch in recovery,
Deal Or No Deal was playing on TV.
I heard the woman on the show repetitively turn down tens of thousands of dollars in hopes of getting more.
On her last chance, she said,
“Please God…”

I thought to myself,
“I was just saying that:
‘Please God…’
Please God, forgive me for buying in excess and creating so much waste.
Forgive me for falling prey to consumerism when I could be helping those in need.
Forgive us, as a country, for producing so much of the world’s trash and destroying your beautiful world.
Forgive us, as a people, for not being good stewards of our resources.
Please God, forgive us.”

The woman on TV was praying for God to honor her greed.
I was praying for God to forgive mine.

The candle room is still a mess.
Mom and I didn’t really accomplish a lot on our first Mom Monday,
but maybe Mom Mondays aren’t about accomplishing things.
The woman on TV won $60.
I fell asleep and awoke headache-free to a text from my sister saying that she was going to take the candles that I’d let burn this afternoon.
I suggested she not burn them all at once, though,
Lest they make her sick.
And then I smiled because redemption visited my house again today.

Beyond My Own Front Porch

This evening was cleaning night. Gigi was cluttered and dirty and crying to be cleaned. So I cleaned her.

But before I busted out the vacuum cleaner and Armor All, I washed the porch.

It was yellow.

A couple of weeks ago at Nana Camp, the boys and girl and I cracked open geodes. We put each unbroken geode in a sock to keep pieces from shattering into someone’s eyes or skin and then hammered the rocks until they cracked open. With deep excitement, we poured out the broken pieces of rock to see what was inside. Each geode opened differently. Some had thick outer walls. Some had thin. Some had white crystals. Some had black. Some were shiny. Some were dull. But they all were neat in their own ways. And the kids and I loved doing them.

As soon as we were finished, though, the kids and I abandoned the socks, hammers, and tiny left-over pieces of rock and came inside. I planned to clean the porch later.

Later was today. Socks, hammers, and tiny left-over pieces of rock all covered in pollen.

Chip, my across the street neighbor, was washing his porch when I walked outside to clean my car. That’s what inspired me to wash my porch.

I turned on the hose. Watched water cascade. Saw pollen flow off the hammers, left-over rock pieces, rocking chairs, and porch. And as I worked, I thought: “There are people around the world who don’t have clean water, yet I’m standing here using clean water to wash my porch.”

Then I prayed, “God forgive me when I take for granted the blessings that surround me. Forgive me when I waste and forgive me when I’m apathetic to issues of human exploitation. Help me use my blessings to help others and help me make a difference in cleaning up the world beyond my own front porch.”

Amen.

Reflections on Stainless Steel

Sometimes, I talk to the television. Other times, I yell at it. I used to do this a lot in Columbia when House Hunters came on. While I enjoyed watching the show and seeing all of the different houses, I often got really ill with the nitpicking of the people looking for the houses. The floor plan wasn’t open, the floors weren’t hardwood, the closets and/or bathrooms weren’t big enough, the kitchen appliances weren’t stainless steel. So often, I’d see the show and think, “This is such a sickening example of American entitlement.”

Even so, as of yesterday, I am a true fan of stainless steel. When the product description says “stainless,” it really means stainless. Even after years of grease build-up, stainless steel will eventually come clean. But the same isn’t true for what may look like stainless steel. Imitation products do stain and no amount of scrubbing can get them clean.

Last night, as I pondered my newfound discovery, I had two theological thoughts:

The first thought was very traditional Christian theology: Our lives in Christ are like stainless steel. Sin is the grease build-up. Jesus is the owner and handler of 409 and steel wool. When we confess our sins, we give Jesus permission to come in and scrub us clean.

The second thought was less traditional Christian theology but equally as powerful an image: We are us. Jesus is the owner of the 409 and steel wool. God in God’s fullness is stainless steel. Solid. Steady. True. The world is grease. Thoughts, emotions, lies, materialism, legalism, greed, guilt, shame, hatred, ignorance, limited knowledge, out of control arguments of morality, mind games, justification, anything that obstructs our view and/or understanding of God. It is up to us to ask Jesus to lend us the tools and help us do the hard work of keeping our view and/or understanding of God unobstructed. It is up to us to use the tools we’ve been given through and with Christ to slowly get rid of everything that is not in line with the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness of God.

A Ministry of Dreams

I haven’t posted anything profound in honor of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday (although I’ve enjoyed reading numerous quotes of inspiration). I haven’t listened to his speeches or watched any videos or done anything to outwardly celebrate the day. But I’ve remembered my teaching years and all of the MLK books that I read to my students. I’ve remembered the songs we sang and my visit to The Civil Rights Museum last January. I’ve felt inward gratitude for a life well-lived and prayed that my life would one day make even a fraction of the difference of his. And I’ve cleaned. I’ve cleaned a house and a computer and I’ll clean out some files tonight.

As I was leaving my house-cleaning job today, Mrs. Flora, the awesome lady whose house I clean, looked at me and said, “I hope you know I really enjoy it when you come. Not just the job that you do cleaning the house. But I enjoy having you here.” I said, “I enjoy coming. I’m glad that I get to come.” And I meant every word.

In the midst of my heavy scrubbing and detailed vacuuming, I thought to myself, “This would go much more quickly if there were more than one of me. Like on church clean-up days when everyone comes together and splits up the work. Maybe churches should organize member clean-up days for persons whose mobility or place in life keeps them from cleaning their houses to their liking. Wait a minute. My youth sort of did that when I worked at Erwin. Maybe someone should do it again. Add that to the list of church ministries you want to start if you ever work on church staff again.”

And what is that list, you might ask?

1) Rocking Chair Ministry. This idea was inspired by two experiences: Sitting in the rocking chairs at Cracker Barrel and having a wonderful time with a group of friends in town for a wedding and spending time talking in rocking chairs each night at Mars Hill College during a retreat on contemplative prayer. I think it would be neat to have an outdoor porch/area at the church where persons could come each day or week simply to sit, talk, and rock. This would be a wonderful way to build community. It would be “office hours” in rocking chairs!

2) New Shoe Ministry. This idea was inspired by Kyle Matthews’ song, “Been Through The Water” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5wEpAKEmZs). The specific lyric that inspired this idea is: “He said I've been through the water and I've come out clean ~ Got new clothes to cover me ~ And you don't wear your old shoes on your brand new feet ~ When you've been through the water.” Fitting with the symbolism of baptism—the old dying and the new coming to life—I think it would be neat to give each baptismal candidate a new pair of shoes after his/her baptism. The baptism committee could take care of these details.

3) Car Cleaning Ministry. This idea was inspired by car duty during my teaching years. It never ceased to amaze me how filthy cars could be as they drove through the car line. I’m not talking about the outside of the cars; I’m talking about the inside. Sometimes kids had to climb over trash to get out of the car. Sometimes trash fell out of the car as the kids got out. I think it would be neat to have a free car vacuuming ministry once a month. This ministry could include a coffee shop with baked goods so that persons could have a place to sit while their cars were being worked on…or it could just be a straightforward vacuuming service.

4) House Cleaning Ministry. This idea was inspired by Mrs. Flora…as mentioned above.

I don’t know if these ministries will ever become reality. But I can hope, eh? And I can dream.
Isn’t that what this day is all about?

Sometimes I Treat The Dog As Human

Friday was a beautiful day. It was overcast and rainy and I enjoyed the gray sky that filled my sight when I looked outside.

And. I was out and about for the most of the day.

Saturday was a beautiful day, too. It was clear and sunny and I enjoyed the blue sky that filled my sight when I looked outside.

Yet. I managed to stay inside for most of the day.

Until Twilight.

It was at that point that I realized that if I wanted to vacuum the car that I’d left in the driveway with the window down then I needed to do it then. So out I went.

Only to realize that the most-often-used orange extension cord was missing because I’d left it at the back of the house with the leaf blower (well over a month ago) and that the other orange extension cord was missing because…well…I had no idea.

I quickly found the first missing cord, connected it to the Shop Vac, and vacuumed my car. But the second one?

“Bullet? Your dad has so much stuff in this garage! Well, I guess he’s not technically your dad. But still. Did you know your dad has a lot of stuff?”

“You’re a good dog, Bullet. Thanks for sitting with me while I clean this garage.”

“There’s the other extension cord, Bullet! I found it!!”

“Oh. Hey, Millie! You want a bone? Hold on and I’ll get you a bone.”

“Just a few more minutes, Bullet, and then we’ll go in the house and sit on the couch.”

Five hours after dusk--conversation with Bullet thorough and complete, car vacuumed, trunk cleaned out, garage swept and somewhat organized, extension cords found, clothes dirty, dog very sleepy, fog covering the world--I went back inside, gave the dog a treat, and sat down with a very content Bullet whose dad’s garage had been cleaned.

When is the last time you cleaned your garage? Or talked to your dog? Or vacuumed your car? Or had an absolutely beautiful day of which to speak? Please share.