A Prescription for Inscription

For the second in what has now officially become a mini-series, today I’m writing about my oldest son. (Reference back a couple weeks to “Appreciating an Andi Antic” for part 1.)

First, you should know Eli has been a very verbal child his whole life. On the day he was born, in the immediate aftermath of awe, amazement, wonder and the overwhelming and awesome realization that we had become parents and were now gifted with, and responsible for, this precious and perfect new little life, in the middle of all of this. he was squeaking and grunting. There were so many noises coming from such a brand new person! I remember thinking, “It’s like he is talking!”

Lo and behold, he has stayed true to form and grown up as a very verbal child, a very competent communicator. Eli loves to ask questions to discover new facts, to clarify points, and to check in with people because he is interested and concerned about them. Just last week, we picked up our sister-in-law for small group in the van. After Christine was settled, Eli craned forward from the back seat and asked, “Hey Christine, how is Zachie (her husband, his uncle, busy that evening coaching tennis) doing in school these days?” Eli genuinely wondered how he was doing and deliberately became a part of the conversation throughout the car.

Besides questions, Eli uses his verbal demeanor to extend invitations. I think perhaps in the whole of his vocabulary, the two most used words are “Hey, let’s…”

Eli loves to start up, repeat, invent, and enjoy experiences of the imaginary, routine, or extraordinary variety. And most of all, he loves to invite others to join in. When Eli says, “Hey let’s…” he is both proposing an idea and extending the invitation for others to fully participate. His invites convey excitement, energy, and inclusion. He’s thinking, not only of what he wants, but what would move everyone into something new, and probably fun or tasty!

Eli makes the Valentine’s Day spoon race a little more challenging with extra conversation hearts and arms out finesse.

Ready to ride a horse this past November! “Hey, let’s ride in the front together Andi”

Some examples of Eli’s “Hey let’s…” invitations:

-all think of a  good April Fool’s idea

-have a little bit of both for dessert

-build a real “ok-go” (our family term for rube goldberg devices)

-count to 100 by 2s- Dad, you go first.

-google who was the first person to dip a cookie in milk

-invite them to eat dinner with us

-build our very own Lego creations for the Lego calendar competition

-do a science experiment tonight after dinner

-find some plastic bags to be our parachutes

-see if Oakley can be the other good guy

– make a real rocket out of this plastic bottle (that he found under the bleachers, last week, at a game, and has kept in his room behind the rocking chair ever since…)

– all pick one comic to read this morning.

When I hear Eli extending one of his invitations, I know a quiet and internal process has taken shape as he hatched the plan in his head, and he is now verbalizing and pitching the idea to others. He’s deliberate in that way and means to make good on the offer for any who will accept his summons!

I appreciate Elijah’s inventive creativity, his constant flow of ideas and thoughts, and his seemingly unbounded imagination- all precious and treasured attributes of what it is to live a robust life as a child. But what I appreciate about the “Let’s” preface is his desire to experience life with other people. Sure, he plays well by himself and isn’t discouraged when we refuse or put off his offer because of our pesky adult schedules or lack of creative imagination, but in his deepest self, he’d love to share whatever it is with others.

In this way, Eli would have gotten along well with Jesus and the cultural norms of the 1st century New Testament world. When Jesus lived, there was very little individuality, instead you were you because of others with whom you associated. Kinship- your family connections, determined religion, vocation, marriages, and political alignments. Instead of choosing for ourselves, pushing for our own agendas, and us all owning our own lawn mowers and washing machines, there was a much bigger sense of shared life back then. Sharing with others today can be inconvenient to us as individuals. Luckily someone like Eli can remind us its worth the challenge to experience the community.

Eli sees the value in not going it alone. He appreciates the creation of something out of nothing, right away, and for the purpose of enjoying the process and the result of said creation with someone else, basically anyone else, who wants in on the adventure. I hope I too can invite others in and look for the “Let’s” of imagination and creativity that make each day a little more meaningful and exciting.

First- this photo I snapped outside our front door today. Check out the clunky boot print next to the tender dance of tiny bird feet. All marked by snows dusting. A spring story on my steps.

Now a long take on Easter meditations.

Yesterday the snow cancelled services at church. The news that we wouldn’t have to rush, drive, and move our family through a cold and snowy morning brought relief. However, both Drew and I were quickly saddened by the fact that we would miss the community and focus of going to church on Palm Sunday. We ourselves, and for our children, wanted to experience the Story, wanted to move into the moments of Lent’s culmination. So we did some church at home and had a great time experiencing the Palm Sunday story with Eli and Andi.

Today at breakfast time, I told the kids this week is called Holy Week. Without much forethought into flushing out the meaning of the term before I spoke it, I thought quickly of how to kid-ify an explanation. “It’s a week to focus on Jesus every day to get us ready for Easter’s celebration,” I said.

So now, as Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 9:27, “Lest after preaching to [my children],  I myself  should not become disqualified,” I too want to orient myself this week towards a focus on Jesus and a movement into the affirmation, celebration, and awe of the resurrection reality that anchors my faith.

My 2013 Holy Week “snippets”

Well, actually some are long. You might want to read these over a few days!

(no deep theological research was preformed in the compilation of these snippets- just my musings and the Spirit…)

1. The journey to Jerusalem- Mark 15:40-41- “Some women were there, watching from a distance, including Mary Magdalene, Mary (the mother of  James and Joseph) and Salome. They had been followers of Jesus and had cared for him while he was in Galilee. They and many other women who had come with him to Jerusalem were also there.”

When I read this passage last week, I was struck by the women’s willingness to move with Jesus from Galilee, a place of familiarity and normalcy (a quieter, more simple, and homogenous place) to Jerusalem- a hotbed of religious and political friction. These women were not content to let their care and concern for Jesus end when a challenge came. They followed him in his risking, his suffering, his humiliation, and his death. They cared for him not only when he was popular, infamous at least, in Galilee but when it cost them dearly to do so, when he was the object of a mobs cries for crucifixion. Am I willing to risk my own comfort to follow Christ?

2. Being Welcomed- Mark 11:8ff- “Many in the crowd spread their coats on the road ahead of Jesus, and others cut leafy branches in the fields and spread them along the way. He was in the center of the procession and the crowds all around him were shouting, ‘Praise God! Bless the one who comes in the name of the Lord…'”

Reading this with our kids yesterday, I kept thinking about what it is to make a long journey, to endure the trials of traveling, and then to have someone welcome you at the end of the trip. My first time home from college as a freshman during fall break, I was welcomed by a huge sign my mom had made and hung outside the house that read, “Welcome home Lindsey!” in her bubble-letter best. I’ll never forget it. As much as it felt good to be home with my family, there was also a physical marker to show they thought about what the journey meant for me and made preparations to mark my coming. Jesus came into Jerusalem as an upside-down king. Not on a powerful war horse adorned with rich blankets, but on a donkey, astride the cloaks and rags of ordinary folks. These people welcomed him not because he had won a major military victory, but because he was coming to win the greatest struggle there ever was. Whether they understood what was ahead of him or not, the people offered a physical sign, branches waved and laid, that they anticipated his coming and welcomed him with all they could. What will mark my anticipation this week?

3. Filled with agony- Mark 14:33ff- “He took Peter, James and John with him and he began to be filled with horror and deep distress. He told them, ‘My soul is crushed with grief to the point of death.'”

During a Lenten time of  morning stillness a couple weeks ago, I read this passage. And re-read it. And re-read it. Really?,  Jesus was filled with horror…deep distress…his very soul was crushed. I imagined Jesus’ body, soul and self being filled up with overwhelming distress at what was happening. Sin was coming directly toward him in the form of betrayal, wrongful accusation, abandonment, and emotional and physical suffering of the most severe degree. He knew full well what was coming and very humanly felt overwhelmed by the awfulness of it.

I think this filling-up still happens with Jesus. When innocence is spoiled by force, when the helpless are exploited, when a family is broken, a woman abused, a child harmed, a life destroyed, justice perverted, ignorance elevated, wrongs ignored, or anytime the opposite of what is LOVE and GOOD and PURE wins out for the moment, Jesus feels deep distress today. I have to believe when people are suffering horrors, Jesus himself is still filled up with horror- that he suffers alongside humanity in their ills.  God knows and understands and ultimately, I believe, will win over the darkest dark. May I be aware of darkness and help someone in distress.

Called out-  Mark 15:21- “A man named Simon, who was from Cyrene, was coming in from the country just then, and they forced him to carry Jesus’ cross”.

And to think I don’t like to have my plans changed! Simon was probably coming to town to celebrate the Passover just like many others. The Bible mentions his sons’ names so we assume it was a family affair- probably an annual custom with norms they’d come to appreciate, anticipate. Perhaps they’d even grown used to the grotesque cruelty of crucifixions and most years timed it so they could sneak in before the gruesome parade. Maybe this year, whatever held them up back in the country (I’d wager it was a stubborn sheep) delayed them long enough they were crossing the road right in front of the convicted criminals on the way to their deaths. A curt and threatening soldier grabs Simon, yanking him away from his sons, and forcing him to carry a cross for a stricken, abused, and bleeding man he sees collapsing under the cross’ weight. With no choice, Simon joins the procession, carries the cross that will kill Jesus to the correct spot. Did he choose this task, sign up for the duty, intend to help bring about Jesus’ death? No, but he became a tactile part of the process. Yikes. Sin’s momentum, at times uncontrollable, carries us along into choices we wish we didn’t make. I hope to become aware of sins ravages on my life and walk out from under their weight.

Godforsaken- Mark 14:36-37- “Everything is possible for you…please take this cup from me” and then Mark 15:34- “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

It’s difficult to rationalize, theorize, or apologize for the cries of help and deliverance of Jesus that go seemingly ignored by God in these hours. If the Trinity is unequivocal oneness, how could the God, “Father” truly abandon Jesus, “Son”? In trinitarian unity, this separation seems impossible. Jesus was never truly alone or abandoned right? I don’t fully know but today I read a meditation by Jurgen Moltmann that is helpful. He writes,

  “Christ’s request  [the removal of the cup] was not granted. God, his father, rejected it. Christ’s true passion begins    with the prayer in the garden which was not heard, which was rejected through the divine silence. He died with this cry [Eloi, Eloi, lma sabachthani] which expresses the most profound abandonment by the God on whom he had pinned all his hopes and for whom he was hanging on the cross. What Christ was afraid of, what he wrestled with in Gethsemane, what he implores the Father to save him from, was not spared him. Is there is any answer to the question why God forsook him? Is there any answer to the agonizing questionings of disappointment and death? A real answer to this question cannot be a theoretical answer beginning with the word “Because.” It has to be a practical answer. An experience of this kind can only be answered by another experience, not by an explanation. A reality like this can be answered only by another reality. It is the answer of resurrection: “For a brief moment I forsook you, but with great compassion I will gather you.” The passionately loving Christ, the persecuted Christ, the lonely Christ, the Christ despairing over God’s silence…. Our disappointment, our loneliness-es and our defeats do not separate us from him; they draw us more deeply into communion with him. And with the final unanswered cry, “Why, my God why?” we join in his death cry and await with him the resurrection. “

A courageous ask- Mark 15:43- “Joseph from Arimathea…gathered his courage and went to Pilate to ask for Jesus’ body.”

I don’t know much about this Joseph but I do know about gathering courage before asking for something. I’m from the line of people who doesn’t like making phone calls to set appointments for car maintenance or hair cuts (you know if you’re one of us). I have to pump myself up, take deep breaths and assure myself I won’t die if the phone conversation falls flat or gets awkward. Joseph of Arimathea on the other hand, couldn’t assure himself he wouldn’t die for this request. Who knew how volatile Pilate would feel on this day. Yet, like the women who journeyed in risk, Joseph was willing to risk his own life and reputation to take care of Jesus. Tenderly, carefully, caring for him in his death. Doing what he could with what was left to show devotion and respect for Jesus the man, not yet proven to be the risen Messiah. Joseph was deliberate, courageous and careful. I hope I can be too.

He is Risen- Mark 15:6- “You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He isn’t here! He has been raised from the dead!…Jesus is going ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there.”

The shocked and bewildered women, who followed Jesus to Jerusalem, stood at his cross witnessing agony, defeat and death of all their hopes and dreams, are now at the tomb- trembling. bewildered, afraid, in awe. And assured. All they had hoped for, all they dreamed Jesus was to be and would do, was coming true. He was not dead. He was ALIVE. Newly resurrected, brought back from suffering and pain and death and given newness, renewal, rebirth, and victory. He would meet them back where they lived, in Galilee. He would move forward with them in their life. Now with the power to bring new life, unadulterated hope, and unquenchable peace to them as they lived out their lives. This alive Jesus lives in me! Amen!

He is Risen Indeed- The Word lives on.

Resurrection must be made real in my life. In the way I live and work, think, parent, love, and write. I must believe Jesus is capable of making all things wrong and horrific, right in the end. That the God I believe in will not let things end in suffering, agony, death, and defeat but will act in continual resurrection strength to heal, offer hope, redeem, and renew the brokenness that often defines our days. He is Risen. We must celebrate!

 

Last week was calendrically* rich.

I held a meeting on Wednesday, February 13th, and wanting to pay attention to the time of year, the chronology of our lives, I planned a reflection on Lent (it was in fact Ash Wednesday), tweaked my Valentine’s Day love quotes quiz, and sought a poem or reading that would allow us space for celebrating Black History Month. I love ritual and traditions and living life in the rhythms of the liturgical, secular holiday, school year, and sports season calendars.

We mark many of the seasons, days or events of the year in our family with a bit of ritual:

• During Advent/Christmas we do an Advent candle lighting and reading each evening at dinner
• Sometime around New Year’s, Drew and I go out on a date with a piece of paper and pen and write down the major happenings of our past year.
• For Valentine’s day, we write each other and our children a “love letter” or Valentine. You might not know it but Drew can create beautifully with pink construction paper. Most year, we make a nice dinner at home and eat on china as a family.
• During Lent I turn off the radio in my car and drive silently in an attempt to listen and pray.
• For birthdays, the birthday person gets to eat on the “You Are Special Today” plate, pick a sp
  

  Birthday pages

  ecial breakfast treat, and we tell what we love about that person before the meal.

• For each kid, on their birthday, I trace their hand on a piece of paper and we write their 5 favorite things at age whatever and some timely character and personality notes.
• We like to get to Colorado for Labor Day weekend and go to Lakeside for 10 cent ride ticket night. Eli rode the big wooden roller coaster as a 5 year old- no age or height limit at Lakeside- just ride with an adult if you’re little.
• Despite my small house, I love hosting a Halloween party (for no more than 6 children and for up to 15 adults). I serve chili, request everyone come in costume, and host the annual and very competitive candy corn spoon race.
  

  Melissa as a lawyer, Christine as half of double rainbow, James the construction guy and Poppy in a sombrero facing off.

• At family gatherings for Thanksgiving, Easter or Christmas, and at the Christmas party I host with Laura for our friends, I like to lead a candle lighting, sharing time- acknowledging God’s presence, God’s movement in our lives, and our current experience of the Story.
• I make cookies, fudge, toffee, cranberry pudding and stuffed french toast for the Christmas season.
• We relish the years of the Olympics.
• We go to Castaway on assignment every July….this summer will be our 5th in a row…probably not a tradition we can keep up nor one we set intentionally but one we excitedly, humbly, and gratefully fulfill.
• Drew is great at celebrating our anniversary with some connection to the traditional gift for that particular year. Last year, for #8, I got BRONZE nail polish. Way to go babe!
• When in doubt, for most any celebration or gathering, I serve Root Beer floats. The most epic occasion upon which a root beer float has been served so far would be our wedding- as the appetizer at the reception. This summer, we let our kids in on the hallowed tradition- the first pop they’d be allowed to drink. Andi ended up not being able to break the “no pop” rule and had just ice cream instead, but Elijah fully embraced the goodness and continues to tell people he’s too young to drink pop…unless he’s having a root beer float.
• We’ve started a new tradition in the past 2 years of family dance parties in the living room- disco ball optional but ever available. Eli switched it up at bit on Valentine’s night this year and wanted us to sing our own songs while dancing, solos and duets, instead of using the the iphone for music. In the comfort of our own home, we all let loose.

Today is President’s Day and I’m very tempted to find pictures of faces of presidents, glue them onto card stock and hide them around my house for Eli and Andi to find. Or perhaps I could find a way to get a mask of their favorite presidents they could wear while doing a spoon race.

I love marking the moments, paying attention to the spiritually significant or simple and silly and being with people I love. I’m grateful for the indulgence those sweet people give to my ritualistic whims!

Have a great Presidents Day everyone!

*Calendrically- a word I just made up to describe a period of multiple occurrences in one space of time.

I’ve started listening to NPR on the few kid-less car trips I take. Last Wednesday morning after Crossfit I heard an interesting bit about a new social-psychological phenomenon called “The IKEA Effect”. You can find the audio and a NPR certified summary of the piece here.

IKEA sells simple, stylish UNASSEMBLED furniture in boxes. As the consumer, you pack the box in your car, drive it home, and follow scant and mostly Swedish instructions to assemble a piece of furniture as simple as a towel rod or as complicated as a kitchen cabinet system.

Visits to IKEA stores in Seattle, Chicago and Denver have offered me enjoyable and adventurous shopping experiences with my family and have yielded treasures like brightly colored plastic bowls and plates my kids use daily, a wok (from the Swedish store for Asian dishes I make in KC), countless cute paper napkins and some picture frames- note no great assembly acquired on most items I buy. However, I’ve shopped and Drew’s has had to enter into the IKEA aftermath- assembly. We have this basket to hold baby bottle paraphernalia.

It came with no hardware so Drew was off to Lowes to find the right, random-sized screw. Perhaps our greatest achievement is the art clothes line in our kitchen. It sat unassembled for months before we tackled the project one Saturday afternoon. It’s been up for a year and I love it. Way to go us for getting it up there in just under an hour one day!

Clothesline- winter artistry!

The scientist and marketing professor in the NPR story wondered why, if IKEA products require a lot of work, labor, and effort on the part of the consumer, do people flock to IKEA?

They named their discovery “The IKEA effect.” The IKEA effect says people attach greater worth and value to something they build themselves than they do to a product built by someone else.

Most emotional science supports the notion that love for something leads to labor on that something’s behalf. The example in the story was a difficult, misbehaving, too big, too wild, up all night dog owned by a man. The man’s friend said, “Wow, because you love your dog so much, you’re willing to do a lot of work for him.” But then later wondered, if instead it was because of all the work on the dog’s behalf, that the man loved his dog.

The heart of the IKEA effect is this difference: instead of loving something so much we’re willing to work for it, sometimes it’s because we work hard for something that we fall in love with it. Usually, love leads to labor… but here , labor leads to love.

With IKEA furniture, people (myself included) think, “Since I’ve built it, it has value. I love it and find it more valuable than one assembled by a professional, even if it has flaws due to my workmanship.”  We IKEA-ers, feel proud and encouraged in our furniture building competence.

I think the IKEA effect points to some risks and some helpful realities.

There is risk in falling so in love with our own ideas, the product of our creative elbow grease, that we can become skeptical of outside ideas and  lose the ability to evaluate the actual merit of our own ideas. We become attached to the idea because we’ve put so much work into it that we miss or are unable to admit its inadequacies or flaws. Case in point, I write loooong blogs. I do this partly because I fall in love with my sentences and have a hard time editing them out! Pride in our own creations can be a slippery slope; we should celebrate a job well done but stop short of overzealous pride in underwhelming products that have just eaten up hours of our lives and should thus, count for something.

On the flip side, when I think about the reality that sometimes we come to love something because we labor for it, I get hopeful. Drew and I went to a marriage enrichment day this Saturday and were encouraged to be intentional, care-full, and diligent in the attention we pay and efforts- emotional and mental- we offer to working on our marriage. Because I love Drew and have for 10 years, I am willing to work hard at taking care of our love. However, I believe the more effort we put into our connection, knowing each other deeply and sacrificing selflessly for each other, the greater and more lasting our love will become. If the IKEA effect is true here, if we work hard for our marriage, we will cherish it, be proud of it and enjoy living with it- even if sometimes it wobbles on one side like an IKEA end table.

What product, process, relationship, or idea have we built lately that needs a merit assessment and possible toss-out? What are we working hard towards that will benefit from our loving efforts?

Footnotes:

*I dedicate this post to Drew for all his help with IKEA stuff and for the love and work he’s given me in building our marriage.

**I dedicated this post to the IKEA store coming to the Kansas City area in 2014- KC, get ready for some labor, and some love.

I must start by admitting that I frequently misspeak, often sing the wrong lyrics to popular songs, have been known to call people by the wrong name to their face for an entire day, and have misused a theological term or two during my ministerial career. These are just a few of the mishaps I commit; there are many many more and I apologize for no specific example at this time.

All that being said, I had a wonderful weekend of being out and about and overhead some other people misunderstanding the world and words around them.

Friday night:

Drew and I had a date night and found ourselves at Spin! Pizza where I could enjoy both of my dessert desires: wine and ice cream (it’s gelato technically at Spin! and it’s delicious!) We sat at the bar alone for a few minutes until a woman saddled up a couple stools down from us. When the bartender asked for her order she started out simply:

Woman: “I’ll have a small pizza and a drink please.”

Bartender: “What kind of crust?”

Woman: “I’d like the gluten free and whole wheat crust”

Bartender:  “Um, we cannot do both of those. You have to choose either gluten free or whole wheat.”

Woman: “Oh. Gluten free then.”

And on she went to drink a glass of wine, sort through her wallet receipts and then take her pizza to-go. We were left to think that instead of suffering from Celiac disease, this woman was trying to make a healthy choice and the menu became just a little too confusing. Unfortunately, she paid an extra $3 for that gluten free crust!

Saturday afternoon:

I took some personal time to work and read away from the house. I also had couple things on my Target list (and literally, this time, I only bought those 2 things!!!) so I ended up at the Target Starbucks. The room was pretty empty and quiet and the coffee hot. I was sitting working on my computer around the corner from the ordering counter when I overheard this interaction:

Man: “I’d like a cup of fresh brewed coffee please.”

Barista: “Ok  which roast? We have Pike’s Place, our Blonde roast which packs the most caffeine for your buck today, or the dark roast Sumatra.”

Man: “Just a cup of  fresh brewed coffee please.”

Barista: “Yes sir. They are all fresh brewed…I just need to know what type you’d like.”

Man: “I’d like fresh brewed.”

Barista: “Yes sir, these are all fresh brewed. They are a little different type of brew. “(She lists the three types again)

Man: “They are all fresh brewed?”

Barista: “Yes”

Man: “Ok, the last one you said then.”

The barista then boggled his mind with another couple of questions about whether or not he wanted room for cream and told him about filling out a survey from his receipt to win a Target gift card. He must have been so tired from the interaction that the dark, bold cup of coffee he ordered was going to be exactly what he never knew he needed!

Moments later on Saturday- still at the Target Starbucks:

I heard a racket and glanced over my shoulder to see a coat-clad, multi-generation family with a cart and Target bags settling into a 4-top table. They determined who would sit at the table and who would get the popcorn and drinks. I went dutifully back to my work but, as went the weekend, my ears absorbed yet another conversation around me.

It went something like this:

Grandma: “What about that pink Aerosmith sweatshirt?”

Teenage girl: “I can’t wear that one anymore.”

Gma: “Oh. Well, didn’t you have a blue and green Aerosmith sweatshirt too?”

At this point I’m thinking, “Wow, this family really likes Aerosmith! Neither the girl or grandma are really Aerosmith-aged fans but hey…

Teenage girl: “I still have it.”

Gma: “Good. Seems like I’ve bought so many of those shirts for you all.”

Teenage girl: “Yea. And its Aeropostle, Grandma.”

Oh!!! It made so much more sense then! Aeropostle is a clothing store for young people with brightly colored sweatshirts with the logo spread all across the front of each one. Maybe Grandma  is a bonafide Aerosmith fan and just got the two mixed up!

5 minutes later, same place, same family:

Gma: “Do you ever wear that watch I gave you?”

Teenage girl: “I can’t. The time on it is always an hour ahead.”

Gma: “Well, that’s easy. You can just reset the time!”

Teenage girl: “Umph.”

My take: The girl needs to move to Arizona where they don’t celebrate this pesky daylight savings stuff and so she escapes the burden of always wearing what her grandma gives her!

Just thought I’d share some giggle worthy stories from my weekend!