Who was kind to you this week?

I've had so many kindnesses bestowed upon me. So many. It's hard to choose.

My good friend kindly went with the spontaneous suggestion to go see the dandelion fountain...and then delivered my child back home for me so that I could get to work!

Mango cooked and cleaned while I was sick. And watched a marathon of Harry Potter movies with Mane & I over the weekend while we were recovering.

Vespera came to visit. And talked about theology with me!

A coworker put up photos of all our families at the front desk to help us all make it through the crazy, busy weeks of summer.

Another coworker offered to pick up lunch for me while she was out.

So many clients expressed gratitude this week!

The clerk at the store actually had a conversation with me, rather than just a "Hello, How are you? Did you find everything you were looking for? Do you want to sign up for a credit card? Have a nice day!"

********************

This blog prompt brings me back to 1000 Gifts. I think of how much joy small gifts of kindness can be, and how much kindness is like an offering of grace. Kindness is a gift in a world where we are often too busy to take time. Kindness slows the world down a little bit.

Chodesh Adar - Accept the Grace of Joy

Today is the 11th of Adar. The eleventh day of the Jewish month of JOY. Adar is considered the month of Joy because it includes Purim (the Fast of Esther) and falls one month before Passover. Both Purim and Passover are deliverance stories, times of joy and celebration. The Talmud says, "When Adar comes, joy is increased."

How fitting that my Bible Study group began a study of Joy last week and I have been following the Joy Dare prompts this year! And how fitting that the month of Joy comes in one of the darkest seasons, right before spring...right when we need it the most. This is the month of anticipation, of joy breaking through, of awaiting our deliverance. From winter. From captivity.

I wrote this for my Bible Study group:

I got to thinking about the plethora of literature that's been generated in recent years about happiness. A website called Happiness Club lists the top 20 books on happiness. Amazon and Goodreads both have lists and lists of books about Happiness. I've read a few of them myself. Most notably, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, where I learned that Happiness is about learning to simplify, organize my closets, and have more fun. Clearly, we live in a culture where we are longing for something. We call it Happiness, but I'm convinced we are really after Joy...because we are after something that can only come from outside ourselves...ultimately, God.

A number of other thoughts have come tumbling through since then. I wonder what it means to have joy or to be joyful when you aren't happy? If we make a distinction between Joy and Happiness, can we assume they are independent of each other? Some people describe Happiness as something that is based on circumstances. We are happy when things are going on our. Joy is independent of circumstances. Something we have from within, despite circumstances. Or, perhaps, something that comes from without, that comes from a reliance on something greater than ourselves.

I like the idea. But what does it look like? How do we have joy when we are mourning? In the midst of sadness? In the midst of struggle? When we are tired, broken, defeated, frustrated, angry...

I'm not claiming to have answers. I just wonder. Romans 12:12 says, "Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer." And again, 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says, "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you." Seems like a pretty impossible standard. Rejoice always? Pray without ceasing?

I also started thinking about people I know, whom I would consider joyful. ...or not. So, my neighbor, who was previously a drug addict, who has been clean for years now, has a daughter in high school, married to a sweet Hispanic guy who experiences a lot of discrimination, raising her "surprise" baby now, low income, watching previous friends die from overdoses or gang related violence, working to help clean up our part of the city... She has joy. Definitely. I mean. I can't even figure it out. Because I know that sometimes she's sad and she struggles, and she doesn't hide that. But somehow, she's always overflowing in joy.

I don't know what it is. I just know that isn't me. And I also know you cannot fake it. You can try to see the silver lining all the time. Try to see the rose in the midst of the thorns. Try to think of how it's always better than it could be. But, honestly, those things feel forced.  There is something so genuine and real about the truly joyful people I meet. And it seems to me that it's sort of like grace. It's not something you can earn or create. It's something you are given and you must open your hand and receive it. TRYing will get you nowhere. Acceptance is the only path. Accept the grace of joy.

Lost and Found

We rode the city bus to Lifetime Fitness to go swimming. Mane and I chatted and ate snacks (yes, I know we're not supposed to eat on the city bus). Then we hopped off the bus when we got to our stop. No sooner had the bus driven away than Mane said, "Where's my purse?!!!" and burst out crying. It's a really cute purse. She got it from Vespera for her birthday. It contained her hairbrush, a spray bottle of water, and the sweetest little printed napkins that she received from her friend for Hanukkah.

We sat down on the couches inside the fitness center, and I put in a call to the bus garage. I learned that if the purse contained ID, they would actually STOP the bus and help us find the fastest way to catch up with it in order to get the purse back. However, since it didn't contain anything...um...important, they couldn't hold up the bus. I didn't know they'd ever hold up the bus for anything. So, that we new information! In any case, the bus garage operator helped us figure out when the same bus would be passing our way in the opposite direction. Then we could board the bus and check for the purse.

We had to wait an hour. Mane was beside herself. So, I took her out for ice cream. (Yes, we live in MN and it's freezing outside, but this was an emergency.) The ice cream made her feel better for a while. She told me her mouth was happy, in any case. But as the time drew nearer for the bus to arrive, she started getting anxious, imagining someone else carrying her purse off the bus and taking it home to their own little girl. I didn't want to promise her that it would be there. So, we just waited and hoped, talking about all the possible scenarios.

At 12:04pm we boarded the bus. I said to the bus driver, "We were on this same bus about an hour ago, and my daughter left a little blue purse with stars on it. Did someone turn it in?"

All the other passengers in the first few rows, who could hear my question, leaned forward in their seats. I kid you not, the bus grew quiet in these few tense seconds of anticipation.

Mane stood anxiously.

The bus driver reached beside his seat and pulled out the purse!

Mane laughed and we thanked him profusely.

Then we turned to face the rest of the bus. Everyone was grinning from ear to ear, old men and young, mothers and grandmothers, and a few whom I sure did not even speak English. The whole story played out on our faces and in our gestures, and it wasn't too hard to figure out what happened. I almost felt the bus break into silent applause.

I thought about how this feeling is one we can all relate to, one we long for...to find and be found.

I once was lost, but now I'm found. Amazing Grace.

Lenten Change

For those of you who have been following, I've been declared free of carcinoids. My lab results came in last week...after Ash Wednesday. I can't begin to tell you how my mind has reeled for the last few months, or even how I feel right at this moment. I felt light and relieved for a time. To tell you the truth, though, I feel like there's something new about my life that just won't change now that I've been to this place...now that I've rolled the word cancer off my tongue a few several dozen times. Lent is a good time for change. I'm glad I'm taking the space to breathe and focus this Lent, and really give the changes the time and space to settle. There are so many things that change us...we humans. We are changed by marriage and children, sickness, weather, food, caffeine, sleep, money, movies, the cars we drive and the clothes we wear. We change those things and they change us. They're part of identity, whether we choose them or not.

This Lent I'm making an effort to choose things that change me in a good way. You may be asking if I've had any luck choosing grace this Lent. The answer is both yes and no, and I suppose it's the struggle that changes me. I've had exactly 2 moments since Lent began when I began the spiral into self-deprecations and doubt. I said, "The Lord longs to be gracious to me. The Lord longs to be gracious to me. The Lord longs to be gracious to me," and I thought, "I still feel like a miserable person, and I wish I could go hide." I realized that it's more difficult to step off that moving train than I had thought. But, you know, I didn't have to wait for the train wreck before I could get off this time. I stepped off before it crashed. Which, I'm sure, was nice for my husband, for a change.

I'm making some other changes...but I've run out of time to blog for now. So, stay tuned...

Lent

Ash Wednesday is next Wednesday, February 17th, and so begins a new Lenten season. Strangely enough, this time of year has begun to hold real meaning for me, as I take a break from my favorite mothering message board every year for Lent. This will be my 4th year. (I will still be posting my blog, though. So, stay tuned.) It's not about taking a break from friends and support. In fact, I've been planning a gathering of women from the message board, which will take place during the Lenten season. It's about spending less time at the computer, giving my eyes and my brain a break from the screen. It's too easy for me to get swallowed up by the web during this dreary time of year when it seems that there's nothing else to do. So, I intentionally take a break...before it becomes a problem. And I force myself to figure out what there IS to do in Minnesota in February.

There's one more thing I'm giving up for Lent this year. I'm giving up my refusal to accept grace...for 40 days. In place of self-deprecation and blaming myself for everything, I'm Choosing Grace, and I'm posting a new scripture on my wall:

"...the Lord longs to be gracious to you; the Lord rises to show you compassion." Isaiah 30:18

God wants to give me grace, to show me compassion. I guess if the Creator of the Universe wants grace and compassion for me, the least I can do is try to accept it. I may not be able to fully accept it in my heart, but, at the very least, I can stop speaking destruction. I can stop saying that things are all my fault or that I've ruined everything...or the million other things I say when I'm feeling awful that something went wrong.

That it all. I'll tell you how it's going in about a week.

Choosing Grace

Mango and I have been in a wonderful groove lately, really in sync and delighting in the steadiness and abiding love that marks this year of "us," even as life has dealt some serious blows. Something that always gets me, though, is the way I feel so guilty for the times that haven't been this good, for all the million ways I've failed. I feel loss for the times that could have been better if I'd only known this or that or been able to do this or that. I need some peace from this, some release from the guilt. The author of Passionate Marriage once said to a couple who lamented the lost years something to the effect of, "What makes you think you could have done this any sooner?" He was speaking of how all things come together to propel us toward the growth, how the place where we find ourselves is a culmination of all that came before.

Mango said to me the other day that he feels I've been more unconditional in my love for him recently than any other time in our marriage. Instead of taking this for a compliment and a statement of growth, I immediately felt guilty that I hadn't given him more of that before, that he hadn't felt it, didn't know it. Here I spend all this time writing about loving our partners unconditionally, and I have failed my own. It's exactly this kind of thinking, though, that makes things worse, that derails us from this beautiful groove, because it becomes all about me and how bad I feel. I get all hung up on wanting to be perfect, on wanting everything to have always been perfect instead of rejoicing in what we have now, in what we have become. I realize that I'm not a good partner when I feel this way, when I'm wallowing in my guilt and insecurities...which makes me feel more guilty and insecure...which inhibits my ability to just love freely and openly. I get defensive and fearful, feel the need to hunker down and protect my fragile self. It isn't pretty.

Mango offers me grace, loves me for who I am at this moment, revels in the growth we both have accomplished, and offers no judgment for the could-have-beens. He offers me a portrait of God's grace, draws on the unconditional One to extend unconditional grace to me. Why I struggle so hard against this grace is such a mystery to me. Why don't I just accept what is FREE, so freely given? For this is what defines grace - that it is free and undeserved. You'd think my greedy human heart would grab at this. After all, I love the free coupons in my Blue Sky guide, love Ben & Jerry's free ice cream days. Yet, I cannot easily accept the free-est and most free-ing gift of all. Instead I clutch my insecurities, anxieties, and imperfections like security blankets. I give guilt a free ride while failing to accept my own freedom. Why? Why do I need to CHOOSE grace? Acceptance of such a free gift ought to be as natural as breathing. But it isn't.

I don't know why I need to choose what is free, but today I am making a choice. I accept this beautiful place for what it is, trying not to get caught up in the could-have-beens. I choose to accept grace for this moment...and all the previous moments...in order to enjoy today, to love and be loved, to offer to Mango and Mane and Vespera and Niteo a wife and mother and friend who is alive and present and whole.

...and I will try to make the same choice tomorrow...

I'm giving you grace...

This is some really rough writing. I've gotten out of the habit of writing deep thoughts here. Bear with me. ;)

**************

Once when Mane was very small I was having a miserable day. I threw myself on my bed and wished as hard as I could for it to be bedtime...soon. Mane came in and patted my arm and said, "Mama, I'm giving you grace."

I know she really had no idea what grace meant, yet, somehow, she knew I needed something...and grace sounded like a good word. Or, perhaps, God whispered that word in her little ears, and she was the voice of Jesus to me that day.

On Wednesday at Bible study we were talking about the worries we have as mothers that we'll mess our children up somehow, that they'll grow up to tell people about all the ways we've screwed up. I'm not sure, but I think the answer to that fear is grace....for ourselves and for our children...so that when they grow up they have some grace for us.

I really think our children start out that way...gifting us with grace all the time. They forgive us easily and love us with a fierceness that defies our many shortcomings. But somewhere along the way they learn to be defensive, to be less accepting of their own faults...and, thereby, ours, too.

Vespera likes a particular saying that goes like this, "Everybody has their stuff." I don't know if you can hear it or not, but that simple statement is just crammed with grace. Mane was the first child of mine to offer me grace. Vespera's grace came later and was more unexpected. She has a talent for seeing what's inside people...my own anxiety and needs for control, for example...but seeing the imperfections doesn't result in criticism. Instead, you'll hear her simple refrain, "It's ok. Everybody has their stuff." It's an acceptance that none of us are perfect, that most of us are trying, that we can still be loved and appreciated for who we are. We have stuff. It's who we are. But it doesn't make us less, and it doesn't make us unloveable.

I find that if I take that approach in life, I get along with a lot more people. I love a lot more people. If I expect people to have "stuff" I don't get so offended/hurt/insulted/frustrated when I come face to face with it.

I want to give this gift back to my children. I want to gift them with grace. I want them to know that they are loved in the middle of all their stuff. It isn't that I want them stuck there. I just think it's really hard to learn and grown and get unstuck outside the gift of grace. You see, I can relax and be a different person when Vespera notices my needs for control getting out of control and says, "It's ok, everybody has their stuff." Suddenly, the acknowledgment that it's there, but it isn't all of me and I am loved anyway, allows me to breathe again and to be...well, less controlling.

If we practicing giving grace back and forth to each other like that, maybe we'll all grow up to be more whole and loving people, people who forgive instead of blaming, who go out and live and make mistakes, rather than hiding in fear and trying to be perfect.

Definitives

I wanted to come back and clarify a bit from yesterday's post. I want to be really, REALLY clear that what I'm saying is that it's my own life that's lacking in "definitiveness," "conclusiveness," "clearly defined or formulated" anything (definitions from en.wiktionary.org/wiki/definitiveness, www.sfaf.org/custom/glossary.aspx, & wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn).

You see, the minute I think I've got everything figured out, and I've got all my ducks in a row nodding their cute little ducky heads, something else makes a huge splash in my pond and all the ducks are bobbing every which way.

And so I grab on to the only one and true definitive I know, I crawl on that shore while I wait for the waves to settle.

You know what I'm going to say, right? It's God. But it's more than even that. Are you ready?

...God is LOVE...

...not just some huge being in the sky, but active, living LOVE...Love so vast, so attentive, so persistent, and so REAL that Love put on a body and walked among humans in the person of Jesus. Go on over to If Life is a Highway and watch the videos in How Great IS Our God if you want to try to bend your brain around just how significant that is. We're talking about the creator of the galaxy walking around with skin and a body. Extravagant love.

This is the Definitive. I can rest on that shore.

My life? Not so much. But my life within the God who is LOVE? Perhaps...someday...I'll know the answers. ;)

Grace

"Sometimes grace is a ribbon of mountain air that gets in through the cracks." ~ Anne Lamott

Or sometimes grace is digging in the garden in your own back yard. In either case, some of the dirt got under my fingernails, some of the sunshine got into my skin and popped out a few more freckles, and I am feeling better. Prayers ascending on ribbons of spring air and sunshine brought a whole lot of healing to my heart this weekend.

...enough that I may be able to compose the post I've been thinking about race. Stay tuned.