My Black Grandson

Something about the mom pulling her adult son out of the riots in Baltimore, resonated deeply with me. 

I tried to imagine myself in her shoes. 

Scenario 1:

One of my boys as an adult, going to a sporting event and his team wins or loses. And he gets sucked into the after celebration as the stadium empties.  And a riot starts.  If I could, I would go and find him.  I would be pulling him away by the ear, with a look on my face of 'Are you kidding me'?

Scenario 2:

Chloe gets married and has kids.  No matter who she marries, her kids will be dark.  And I hope she has at least one son.  Say, he grows up, and goes to a big school in a big city.  And something bad happens nearby. And he gets pulled, pushed, or willingly follows a mob of people who are protesting.  And it gets bad, real bad.

You can bet that Chloe, her husband, and I will be on the streets looking for him.  Desperate to find him before he gets hurt.  Imagine me, as a grandma, in a riot, looking for Chloe's son. 

With my white son, I'm not afraid for his safety.

With my black grandson, I am terrified for his safety and his life.  

Scenario 3 and 4:
My white son joins in a protest for minorities.  Still not afraid for him.

My black grandson joins in a party after a big game that turns into vandalism.  Very afraid for him.

Should I be more worried for my white son?
Should I be less worried for my black grandson? 

It's just how I feel, way down deep.  And it resonates with me.

How Did Jesus Do It?

Jesus,

I want to know the 'meaty you'.

How did you connect with such a wide variety of people? And still do?

What are you like? How did it feel to be near you physically?

I  picture you, holy, as a young man, working with your earthly dad.  Doing hard, sweaty, dirty work. That allowed you to use your creativity, with human limitations. And also used your bone and muscle, the bone and muscle you created.

I imagine that Joseph worked for all kinds of people.  Did you ever feel like not filling an order cause of the sin you knew about in their life?  Did you ever say to your dad, "we can't work for this person cause of how they live"? Cause then you wouldn't be able to do any carpentry for any body, ever.  Sin is sin.  Obvious or secret.  Ongoing sin or one-time sin.

Did you speak out every time you encountered sin in someones life?  I doubt it. I don't know how you did it. How did you put up with our ugly and not become ugly yourself?  People were drawn to you because of your love, your deep in your soul love.

And how did you handle people's criticism when you knew you were speaking the truth?  As a young man. Before your ministry. Before you revealed all that you are.  I can't figure it out.

Such as, religious people who stood up for their convictions, refusing to associate themselves with 'sinners'.  Refusing to make cake for sinners.  And then crying foul when other groups do the same thing to them.  They might say we need to stand up for our own freedom to serve who we want to serve. Cause other groups discriminate against us, so we should be able to discriminate against them.  What a mess.

Neither of those sides is your side. I don't think you would take sides in so many situations. The eyes of your heart would see through all the rubbish on both sides. And extend grace. And would say the words that needed to be said. And would do the thing that needed to be done.  And Forgive.

Cause both sides and all the sides in between, are hurting, having been deeply hurt. And are speaking out of their own pain.  Deep wounds from years of not getting each other.  Not connecting with each other.  You are the only thing that can bridge the gap.  But we need to cross the bridge of forgiveness, and grace that you supply.

And you get into the mess, the meaty you. And you stay.

I don't get you, but I sure want to be near you.

Me.

My Barn

This Barn is important but I don't know why. I passed it on my way home from lunch with a friend and I felt like turning in to get a closer look. But the practical side of me kept driving.   A quarter of a mile down the road, I felt it again. "Get a closer look, turn around, go back." Only I wasn't hearing it in my head but feeling it in my heart. A moving, a bubble of hope growing.

The free spirit in me, turned the car around.

And as I drove back, I'm arguing with myself, but also hopeful. What is it I need to see?

Driving up, I felt silly and excited. God kept giving me words. "Big, Bigger, Bigger than you can imagine."  And the bubble popped in my heart.  Hope surged.

This Barn with a capital B, was Big.  No house is on the lot and it's surrounded by old trees.  Let me rephrase, it's surrounded by mature trees.  It had a weathered look and yet the boards were neatly painted with what can only be described as 'barn red'.  The driveway was hard to find but the grass wasn't all long and pushed over.  But neatly trimmed without lawnmower marks.  Shingles covered the roof, unlike old barns that have been neglected and have big patches or holes in their roofs.  One door was covered with ivy and another looked like it could be easily opened.

It was weird.

The Barn was set on a hill, overlooking fields.  The setting felt secure but also wild as the wind blew on this sunny, cold day. 

What does it mean?

This year, I started praying for my future husband.  I did this in my 20's. Whenever I wondered if I'd ever marry, instead of feeling discouraged, I prayed for him. It gave me a sense of power, that I was doing something, talking to God about my future. Not knowing how he would answer such a prayer.  And just because he answered so big the first time does not mean this is a recipe for a second time.  But the peace I feel after I pray for this man, is real. God hears me and I'm ok.

What will he be like?  Big, Bigger than life.  Secure but wild.   Handsome, in a weathered sort of way.  Parts of his heart are scarred but he's still able to open up his heart to the right person.

I can stand in the shadow of this barn and see the future.  Or I can let the sun shine over and feel it's warmth.

And it had a silo around the corner, reminding me of provision. 

This still feels crazy but I'm hanging these pictures and this post on my wall to remind me.  Someday I hope it makes more sense. 

Jesus

I don't get Jesus.  I've worked through how God is my Father. And the Holy Spirit is my counselor.  I understand these two thirds of the Trinity in my head and my heart.  It's taken time, surrender, and suffering to flesh out my hang-ups. But worth it.

But I don't get how to relate to Jesus.  He's God become man. He's my Savior.  I understand a lot about Jesus in my head and he lives in my heart. But my heart needs to more fully surrender to the Jesus part of the Trinity.

Since I love Bible Studies, I ordered Jesus: 90 Days with the One and Only by Beth Moore.  I've worked through her studies on John and David.  It's a good fit for me.

Mary's pregnancy and Jesus birth came more alive.  Him as a boy is something I could picture as my own boys are that age.  The 40 days in the desert followed by temptation, I could relate to as a human.  But as he gets into his ministry, I found myself only in my head again.  And I left my heart out of the equation.

I'm praying that he will become more real as a person in my heart. That I'll be challenged to rid myself of what is not true about Jesus as a human. And for him to enter into my heart places that I have not surrendered to him.

A couple of years ago, I surrendered my anxieties to him.  And he didn't take them away. He put me in more situations where I feel anxious, forcing me to dig out and sift through where the roots of my anxieties live.  I didn't like it. But it was worth it.

Last night I realized I need to work through another heart issue.  Ugh.  I told him to do whatever it takes to work through this negative feeling.  I surrendered knowing it's going to get worse for a long time before it gets better.  Double Ugh.

And Jesus will be far more real in my heart than he was before. 

Tried and True

"Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the desert, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. H ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them he was hungry." Luke 4:1-2

Jesus came straight from being baptized, hearing from his father, seeing into heaven, recieving the Holy Spirit.  The Trinity all in one place.

Full of the Holy Spirit and ready to start his ministry. I would have thought. But the Holy Spirit to whom even Jesus listened, led him into the desert.

Does my dry spell come after my  previous dry spell as I often think?  Is it life that dries me up or the Spirit leading me to each dry spell?  How do I live abundantly in my Spirit led, dry spell?

After 40 days, Jesus was hungry.  I believe that the Spirit remained with him throughout the 40 days.  And he was hungry physically, about to face 3 temptations. 

It's my birthday today. And I made a fabulous three layered, gluten free, German Chocolate cake with Coconut-Pecan frosting. From scratch. Took me hours. Looks like the leaning tower of Sugar. And I'm on Weight Watchers.  So I'm hungry.  Put cake in front of me when I'm hungry. Temptation.

Only I gave myself permission to eat it before I bought the ingredients.

I imagine Jesus was lonely, hot, tired, and hungry.  He went in full of the Spirit. The Spirit never left him. He came out tested and triumphant.

What if he had started ministry with the filling but not the tempting? What if he had skipped the tempting and went straight to ministry? Would he have known that having the Spirit is enough, especially in the desert?  I can know something in my head, but until I've lived it, it isn't apart of me in my heart.  It's that part of being human that Jesus and I have in common.

The power of the Spirit works for Jesus. It works for me. 

I'm in a Spirit led dry spell of parenting.  Tempted to parent poorly.  Praying for patience, wisdom, and creativity.  Spirit filled before, with the Spirit during, and eventually I will emerge from the desert.

But today, I'm eating my cake!

Why I need snow days.

It wasn't a brain freeze on this frigid day. But staying in my jammies til noon with my kids all around. I need snow days to be a stay-at-home mom. That was my child-hood dream and I enjoyed it for 8 years. I miss it like crazy.

The nights of bad forcasts, I lurk on the weather websites and pester the school closing list.  I'm totally torn between needing routine of school and work, and staying home and not doing a blessed thing. 

Our last snow day had a tantrum-meltdown-defiant hour. Much more than a moment. In the middle of it, I swore off future snow days. Go to school and take your attitude with you.  And I'll take mine with me.  We endured the uncomfortable aftermath, sat in it, soaked in it, loved in it.  I stayed in it with this child til it passed.  By evening, we played Settlers of Catan, hard core. And my matra continued, don't gain up on each other, put the robber on less likely numbers to get rolled, let's be fun.  When I tucked the previously defiant child in for bed, I received a hug with unexpected warmth.  A friend with similar family dynamics and I prayed for each other through out the day and God answered. It felt like a victory. I had courage to keep going.

Two nights later, I'm stalking the same websites. Glad I have no control of the God of all weather and storms, even wind chills.  This morning, another snow day.  Was it going to be a replay of our last day?

Nope.

Thank Goodness.

I read the story of Mary learning she would be the mother of Jesus, Elizabeth pregnant with John. Each rejoicing, wondering how this could be.  And I realized that Snow Days are God's gift to me. A free day with no plans, no agendas, no expectations. A day to be a stay at home mom again. If serious parenting needs to happen, I have time! A scare commodity. And energy, which runs low in the evenings.  And creativity, after being in the word.

A snow day is a day to let my heart turn and remain towards my kids for the whole day. 

Pride? Entitlement? Camp?

Summer Camps.

Last summer my kids were asked by friends if they were going to camp. But it was too soon after our move. And none of us wanted to go anywhere. So we deferred for a year.

And then Levi's friend asked if Levi would be his bunk mate.  Levi was over the moon with excitement.  So we figured out dates, no small feat to work around 2 families summer plans.  And he is going towards the end of summer. The anticipation is going to do him in.  Love It.

Two of my other three also want to go. Emails and messages went out to mom's of their BFFs.  More dates picked out, summer is filling up.  I'm excited my kids are going to Camp Geneva. I'm excited to have fewer at home those weeks.

But I need to apply for scholarships. And I need to go to the church we are regularly attending and ask for a church voucher. Cause it's not in the budget. And that's hard.

On the camp registration, I had about 100 characters to explain my financial picture.  It went something like,  "Young Widow with 4 kids. 3 want to have a camp experience. And I want them to have strong memories of spiritual milestones on their journey."

And I could add more info about Seth so I wrote "Seth grew up as a missionary kids in Kenya. My husband died when Seth was 4. And he needs positive experiences to strength his faith."

That was hard, that was me being vulnerable in a few words. That was me trying not to be dramatic about a traumatic situation. 

And I'm applying for scholarships and still proud.  Even if it's humbling.

And I'm not defensive about my budget. You won't see us at restaurants, cause we aren't there, (maybe you aren't either). We go to the movies as birthday treats or Christmas presents.  I shop at Aldi's and love their fruit and gf foods.  And I am a bit defensive about how I spend money.  Cause I had to give an honest reason for why we need finaincial aid for Camp.  Camp that I think is reasonably priced.  But still.

And I don't think my kids are entitled to a camp experience.  No one owes us a scholarship.  We haven't done anything to deserve a church voucher.  I'm waiting to see what happens. Moving forward. I'd rather ask, than not even try. Ask, Ask, Ask.  It's in God's word. He's given me the green light to fill out the applications. I obeyed. And now I can peacefully wait.

Please don't send me money.  This is about my feelings. And God's faithfulness. And my vulnerability.