Rebecca and I enjoy hiking.  We’re not like, ‘get all the gear, use the ski poles, camp in the woods, complete the Appalachian Trail’ kind of hikers, but we love times out in nature at a variety of local, state and National Parks, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells.

The first time I was introduced to ‘cairns’ on a trail was when we spent a few days in Acadia National Park near Bar Harbor, Maine.  Acadia is known for its pinkish granite peaks, of varying heights and difficulty levels.  The lower elevations are lush with balsam trees that let off an amazing fragrance as you make your way along the well-worn paths.  But as you get higher, there are many places where you come to large spans of granite and there’s no clear path lined out.  It is difficult to tell exactly where the trail leads.  It was on these spans that I began to notice little stacks of rocks at various places along the way.  It just looked like someone got bored and tried to get the rocks to stack up, but the stacks were frequent enough, and similar in size and shape, so I began to realize they had a purpose.

Those stacks of rocks were ‘cairns,’ and they were there to mark the trail.  Like the one pictured above, cairns are put together in such a way as to not only help you know if you’re on the trail, but even indicate the direction a hiker is to go.  Someone (actually many ‘someones’) had been along that way before, had figured out a great way to go, and then left some markers so that those who came later could experience the same journey.

I love that, not only because those little stacks of rocks helped us to not get lost, but they are a great image of how I want to live my life.  I want to follow the lead and wisdom of those who have gone before me, and I want to maybe leave a few ‘cairns’ along the way so that others can benefit from the trail I’m walking.

• Take a few minutes and think about the people in your life who have left ‘cairns’ for you to follow.  Thank God for their example.  Send them a note, a text, a call, letting them know how special they are to you.
  
• Be looking for people who are worth following.  What’s great today is that we can follow the path of many whom we’ve never met, just by reading their books, watching videos, or following them on social media.  Look for those worth emulating and follow in their footsteps.
  
• And think about the trail you’re leaving behind.  We all are leaving a legacy…  What’s your path look like?  Look for ways to invest in others’ lives…your kids, grandkids, coworkers, friends…  If they follow your example, will their life be better or worse?  Are you laying down a path toward Jesus?  If they follow you, will they know Him more?  Look for ways to mark the trail, so you can add value to others’ lives.

I’m learning to be a better ‘wait-er.’

No, not like in a restaurant…  I think I’m getting better at waiting.

I like to be as efficient as possible and get things done, checked off the list, and if I have to wait on something or someone, it can be frustrating.  But I’ve realized that life is made up of a lot of waiting…

…After conception, there are 9 months to wait until birth. 

…Kids take 18 years to grow up (actually longer these days it seems!). 

…We wait in traffic. 

…We wait in checkout lines. 

…We wait for our online purchases to arrive at our doorstep (at least a day!).

…We wait for news from a friend, for someone to answer a text, for dinner to cook… 

…It seems cliché, but there really is so much waiting at the BMV! 

…Many places have whole rooms dedicated to waiting!

We must wait, because things take time.  And although I can’t believe I’m writing this, the longer I live, the more that I’m coming to appreciate the waiting.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t love it in the moment, but I’m becoming more and more convinced that there is life to be lived in the waiting.

There’s a line in Henri Nouwen’s book, “The Genesee Diary” that jumped out at me recently… “What strikes me is that waiting is a period of learning.” 

Now, when I’m in line at the BMV, irritated and rehearsing how they could expedite the process, I’m usually not all that interested in learning!  But I think Nouwen was simply making the point that we shouldn’t waste our waiting.  There are things to learned, growth to experience, life to be lived, even as we wait.

I’m not necessarily talking about ‘redeeming the time’ by taking a book with you to the doctor’s office or listening to podcasts on your commute, although those are great ideas.  Instead, I just don’t want to dismiss or disregard the benefits of waiting.  True, deep, quality growth cannot take place in an instant.  There are things to learn as we wait.

Maybe we make waiting harder than it needs to be because we’re so focused on what we’re waiting for, and that we don’t have it yet.  Living and learning in the waiting is about shifting our focus to the here and now, being present in this moment, not so hyper-vigilant to get to the next.

A classic example is the difference between a meal using traditional methods in an oven and on a stove, or using the speed of a microwave.  Sure, the microwave meal is ready much sooner and will (probably) sustain life, but the traditional meal has so much more richness and depth of flavor that just can’t be rushed.

I’m coming to realize that I don’t want a microwave life.

There are so many aspects to life that we can apply this to, most importantly, our relationship with God.  We must be characterized by this learning and depth as we wait for the restoration of all things.  We could run through this life, jumping from experience to experience, trying to do as much as possible.  We could complain that God isn’t moving as fast as we’d like Him to.  We could spend our time waiting on things that mean little, like entertainments and superficial fancies.  But I don’t want to waste the waiting.  I want to invest in the time that I have.  I want to learn, I want to grow, I want to know God more fully.  I want to understand a little more each day what it means to be His child, to follow Him closely, and to help others do the same.

Maybe in a very real sense, life is all about waiting well…

In a week or so, Rebecca and I will celebrate 29 years of marriage.  In a culture of disposable marriage, there is a depth and richness and quality to our relationship that I could not have dreamt of in my 20s.  It has taken time to develop that, to go through hard things and fun things and average days and heartache and euphoria and everything in-between.  It hasn’t felt like waiting for the years to pass.  It has simply been an experience of a deep life together.  I’m sure that the next 29 years will bring much more growth and learning and depth and intimacy that I can’t imagine now.  I can’t wait! 

Well, maybe I can…

On a recent walk, Pete and I passed a couple walking the opposite direction around a beautiful pond. In the fleeting moments that it took to nod a greeting, we noticed that the man (I’m assuming the husband) was walking slightly behind his wife, relying heavily on a cane, and exerting much effort to keep his awkward, stilted gait on the path. The quick interchange only gave us time to draw the conclusion that his difficulty with walking was not age-related but rather likely from a condition or disease affecting his ability to control his muscles and movement.

As we passed, I interrupted our previous conversation, by whispering, “When the time comes that I have to walk with a cane, will you go with me and make sure I don’t fall?” I was sincerely seeking a genuine response because I was sobered by the thought of what the future might hold.

Pete answered, already reading my mind and possibly thinking the same thing for himself. “I WILL walk with you. And I’ll make you go for a walk even when you don’t want to. Or when you think you’re too much trouble. Or that everyone will be staring at you. And…I’ll do your make-up, and flat-iron your hair, although I’d probably just burn you, so I’ll put your hair into a pony tail…(pause)…but it will most likely be crooked.” He said it all lightheartedly, but he meant it. The entire sentiment of it.

A few Sundays earlier, Pete had preached a sermon on how a marriage is a partnership where both serve and sacrifice for each other. However, he has also lived that sermon in so many ways for the past 3 decades. In those years we have joked about how we will help the other if we fall ill, get injured, or show signs of aging, but the truth is that the daily acts of being attuned to each other and caring for each other’s needs have sealed the promise…  A promise made on a wedding day, pregnant with hope and adventure, the promise kept on days when work was a failure, arguments ensued with the kids, the washer stopped working, we made an unexpected trip to the emergency room, the checking account was empty…you get the picture.

As sobering as a brief encounter with strangers can be, there is really no need to worry about the future. There is already a track record in place. The truth is, we don’t know what the future holds. We may both need a cane at the same time. Or…Pete may be gone before I ever even need a cane. Misusing our imaginations to breed worry or fret is just not wise – or spiritual.

This is such a picture of God – and his track record is perfect! He tells us that he holds the future, and He won’t leave us or forsake us (Deut. 31:6).  Life experiences have proven that God will provide the grace – when the grace is needed. In our limited vision, we tend to want the grace now – to relieve the wild imagination, the anxiety – to make sure we have contingency plans for everything. That’s really just us trying to be in control.

Here’s the thing…  My past experiences with Pete tell me that he will make good on his word and be a loving support through difficult times. The same is true with the Lord. I can trust that whatever scary thing may be lurking in the future, He will show up. He will supernaturally provide grace and “the peace that passes all understanding.” (Philippians 4:7)

He got on my first and last nerve. Really. He got on every nerve I didn’t even know I had. He never stopped talking. He seemed to have absolutely no interest in learning, only in controlling where the attention was focused in the room.

My first career was teaching, and my first teaching job landed me in an inner-city middle school in Kansas City, Missouri. (7^th grade, need I say more?) Truly, I was in waaaaay over my head but determined to learn and do my best. My purest motive was to make a difference in the lives of these kids so that they could actually learn, but on many occasions, the goal was just to survive the day. They were a tough group of kids. I shared about 125 students with my team of teachers and was assigned to teach Reading and Science. I had the aforementioned kiddo for 2 periods a day. It was brutal. If I’m honest, I daydreamed about finding a way to transfer him to another classroom, another team. He was disruptive without being violent, so there were no real options for correcting him other than good ol’ classroom management. I could swear he had taken a private course in how to block, sabotage, or interrupt a classroom! He did not care about consequences or rewards. He had lost so much in his life that consequences didn’t hurt, and rewards were a shallow alternative to attention and control. He was a common topic for our team meetings because his attitude and behaviors were consistent across the board. He was consistent. I’ll give him that.

Another colleague and I decided at one point that we would assign him the task of timing our instructional period at the start of each class. We would give him an estimate of how long we thought the day’s lesson would go before moving to assignments and practice of the skill, and then he was to call out if we went over time. This actually worked for a while. He would get so caught up in the game of catching us, that he was at least silent for the amount of time it took to deliver the lesson of the day. Of course, when the assignment was given, he went back to talking and disturbing his classmates instead of doing his work. This all came to a head for him when the semester ended, and he had failed EVERY. SINGLE. CLASS.

The truth of this boy’s story is that he never knew his father, his mother had abandoned him in pursuit of drugs and left him in the care of his elderly grandparents. They were truly past the age and physical ability to keep working, but they did. Out of necessity. That left my student with little attention and a whole lot of loneliness. They loved him but just could not provide the amount of nurture he needed to overcome his pain on a regular basis. However, when he failed the first semester, they did surface and agreed with the teaching team that it was time to do something different.

This boy annoyed me. But he was smart. He and I both knew it. I tried so many times to leverage that ability, but until he failed the semester, he lacked enough care to see how his intelligence was a blessing. I wish I could say that failing itself was the ‘big wake-up call.’ It was not. What started to turn the tide however, was the decision of the team to make him spend 2 hours every day after school with ME! Good grief. How was I ever going to survive an additional 2 hours every day with this boy?

I don’t recall the early days of those after-school moments, but what stands out the most in my memory is the connection he and I began to make. The humor. The completed assignments. The thought-provoking conversations. His excitement over after-school snacks. The way he changed and paid attention during the day in my classroom. The way he began to be intolerant of other kids who became disruptive or disrespectful of me. This kid had influence. He began to use it for good. He began to share his hurts. His disappointment with his mom. His dream to become a famous author. (He was an excellent writer.) The gratitude he had for having a place to be after school instead of going home alone. He even called me his ‘favorite teacher.’

My attitude changed too. Instead of enduring him or wishing him away, I wished he was in my classroom all day long. Not just because he was “good,” but because I truly liked him! He was fun to be around. He knew how to use his humor at just the right time or ask a question that moved the lesson into a deeper realm. From dreaded-child to dream-child. No magical classroom management techniques. It was connection. Relationship. Shared moments and memories. Connection before correction.

That boy passed both of my classes second semester and a couple others too. However, he failed one or two which was not enough to keep him from failing 7^th grade overall. I was so sad for him. But we both knew he had changed. He saw what would happen if he applied himself. He knew he had an advocate. Someone who believed in him.

I returned to that school the following year but was moved to 6^th grade. I would not get to be his teacher again and foster him through round 2 of 7^th grade. BUT…..the after-school program was still in place! His team leader requested that he spend his after-school hours with me to make sure he stayed on track all year. He was the proud peacock in my room. He presented himself confidently to the “little 6^th graders” and freely gave advice and tutoring. He struggled with wanting them to think he was there for help, so we made sure he worked separately on his assignments so that his pride could remain intact.

The funny thing is that although he was repeating 7^th grade, he had qualified for the honors English class because of his skill level and was working on writing a book that they would eventually self-publish in the school. The culminating event was a book-signing party where they were allowed to invite a few guests. I was on his guest list. I showed. His mom did not. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. He could see the tears in mine. Tears of compassion. Tears of pride. Tears of surprise. He had dedicated his prized work of art, his book, to me.

I still have a signed copy of that book. We kept in touch for a year or 2 after I moved to another city. I have since lost track of him but have searched social media from time to time in an attempt to reconnect. I have prayed for him when he comes to mind. I hope he has put his talent and skills to good use. What I know is that for a time, he knew he was loved. He was treasured. He taught me more than any book or classroom ever could. My own son’s name is a variation of this boy’s name. He was that special to me.

When I think of living life in tandem with others, he comes to mind. Vividly. You see, sometimes we try to force others onto the back of our bikes. We think we know best and that if we just get them on the bike everything will be ok. The reality is that you have to slow down, see what they are trying to tell you, find common ground, and build trust before riding a bike together is even possible. It’s a lot like circling the bike, kicking the tires, answering the questions, assuring the other that you know what you’re doing, and understanding that coming along is hard for them, but will be rewarding in the long run. They have to trust that riding the bike (the future) will be better than the comfort of remaining on the ground (the present) no matter how dysfunctional or harmful it might be. In my experience that does not happen over-night. But it can happen over time with consistent, intentional effort to invite them into your world and getting to know who they really are inside. Before you even know it, you will be on that bike and letting the wind whip across your face. Together. Finding a new rhythm of functionality. Finding healing in relationships – for both bikers.

Steering your thoughts:

“Dysfunction does not have to be your destiny or your identity. Victory is always on the table.”

 ~Sarah Mae

Psalm 68:6 “God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.”

1 Cor. 15:58 Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.

Who in your life fits the description of “______ gets on my last nerve?”

What intentional step could you take toward inviting them to share their story?

What “walls” have you created that tend to push others away or keep them from knowing the authentic you?

Have you ever experienced someone taking the time to get to know you and building trust so you could let down your barriers?

We weren’t new to the neighborhood.  In fact, we’d lived there about 10 years.  We knew pretty much everyone on our block, including the couple who had moved in down the way and across the street.  They had hosted a backyard neighborhood get-together in the past, and we were all on good terms…or so we thought.

One Sunday afternoon as my wife and I went out for a walk, we heard laughter in the distance.  There was definitely something going on.  Strolling down the sidewalk we saw into the neighbors’ backyard – there was a barbeque in full swing, with everyone on our block…except us.  As far as we knew, we hadn’t made anyone mad.  We always kept our yard and house in good shape.  We’d waved and talked and kept up good rapport with everyone, but one thing was sure on that Sunday afternoon…  We hadn’t been invited.

Invitations come in all shapes and sizes.  Some are printed on linen paper and embossed.  Others are scribbled on notebook paper.  They may be emailed, texted, given over the phone, or extended in-person.

Maybe that invitation will mean that you get BBQ, or cake…  Or you get to hold his hand at recess…  Or that you’re on the team, or you have a friend to sit with at lunch or you’re connected online.  No matter how it looks, being invited means that we are wanted and included.  Someone wants to know us.

And that’s a big deal.

Receiving an invitation feels great because it’s a chance for relationship.  It reveals the desire of the one extending the invitation to include you – they chose to invite you.  And the same is true as we think about our spiritual lives.

God has chosen you.  He loves you and has invited you into relationship with Him.  He wants to know you.

John 15:16a “You did not choose me, but I chose you…”

1 Corinthians 8:3 “…Whoever loves God is known by God.”

Ephesians 1:4 “He chose us in him before the creation of the world…”

Scripture is full of the evidence: You’re invited…by God!

But it’s a funny thing about invitations…  They demand a response.  They can be accepted or ignored.  If I don’t want to go or it’s inconvenient or something better comes up, I can refuse the invitation and do my own thing.  And that’s true with God too.  He wants you to experience what it’s like to be known by your Creator, but you have to accept His invitation.

When you do, you can begin to experience the fullness of His love and grace, and every day there’s more – “His mercies are new every morning (Lam. 3:23)!”  Every day you wake up to an invitation to experience new depths of knowing God and being known by Him.  You’ve been loved…chosen…invited…by God!

I didn’t like how it felt on that Sunday evening in our neighborhood, when we weren’t invited.  Thankfully, you never have to experience that with God.  He wants to know you, and to be known.  Accept His invitation.

Being invited is a big deal.

Summertime. Homegrown tomatoes. I crave them. I can taste them in my mind during the off-season – especially when I have to settle for a less-than-fresh version. During the summer it seems I plan more meals with tomatoes in mind so that I can capture as much as possible while they are available. And EVERY time I bite into one, I literally think or say, “you can taste the sunshine.”  The flavor simply cannot be replicated. To grow into their bold, beautiful, tasty selves, they need good soil, water, and lots of sun!

I grew up on a farm. A big one. The size of our garden is probably exaggerated in my adult mind, but I remember how huge it was and how much I loved working in it. My favorite part was harvesting. I didn’t even seem to mind getting hot and sweaty when gathering ripe vegetation because I loved the fresh fruit and vegetables so, so much! (To make a point, I generally HATE being hot and sweaty on any other occasion.) Many days we would choose whatever was ripe that particular day and incorporate it into the daytime or evening meal. It felt like a buffet to me.

We also raised Charolais cattle. Their hides are entirely white. One summer my aunt and uncle came to visit from out of town. We loved it when they came because we got along so well with our cousins and never wanted our time with them to end. We spent many hours exploring, making up plays, performing for our parents, and yes, sometimes getting into trouble. This particular day, we had spent a lot of time in the barn cooking up several shenanigans. To this day, I’m not sure where the idea originated, but together we herded the cattle into the barn, closed the big metal gate so they couldn’t escape, and took 5-gallon buckets to the garden. To the buffet. The tomatoes. Red and juicy. Lugging our spoils back to the barn, we sat up high on the half-wall and took turns throwing those beautiful ripe tomatoes at the cows to watch the red juice explode onto their white bodies. (Please note: no cows were injured in this event. It only takes a small amount of pressure for a tomato to explode!) It still makes me laugh thinking about it. But what a waste of those glorious fruits! I believe we had to scramble to hose off the cows and shoo them back out to pasture before our parents found out. I was literally an adult before I ever confessed this mess to my dad!

I still laugh at that event, but I also want to cry at the waste of what now is a treasure to me – fresh tomatoes! The flavor is irreplaceable. And the fact that they are a true seasonal item makes them all the more special.

The purity of a homegrown tomato reminds me that it takes God’s spirit in us to create the flavor we bring to others. When we try and strive to do things out of our own strength, we end up tasting like a hydroponic substitute. It’s still a tomato and may fool some because of its appearance, but the flavor is just not truly authentic.

We can’t make our own fruit of the Spirit. That’s why it’s called the fruit of the Spirit. It is supernaturally cultivated and needs time to develop in natural elements. One day of sunshine won’t produce a bumper crop of succulent tomatoes. It’s day after day of exposure that results in the prize. And letting the crop rot on the vine or drip from the side of a white cow won’t provide the sustenance intended for others. God created us for relationship, so the character he is developing in us is for the benefit of others, not so we can cross a skill off of a bucket list.

Are you trying to be more patient? Have you been praying for more peace? I have learned that God never allows me to wake one day and “put on” fruit. He gives me opportunities to practice it. To grow it over time. To become the authentic flavor of his character that extends beyond myself to others. I know I sure can appreciate when I taste the flavors of Jesus in others who have allowed Him to work his fruit into their lives. And I am put off when I get a fabricated version. Jesus tells us in John 15:1-5 (NIV) “I am the true vine, and my father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Paul also reminds us that “God can do anything you know – far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.” Ephesians 3:20 (MSG)

Basically, all this fruit, literal and spiritual, needs the power of the creative Spirit to form and develop into what it’s intended to be. And when it comes from that source, you can taste the sunshine!

Growing up, I didn’t know it, but our family was a little different than other families.  I know that probably doesn’t come as a shock to many, but I’m not just referring to our quirks and idiosyncrasies.  For a while, in my formative years, there were at least 3 boys running around our house, and we didn’t all look the same.  My parents were foster parents for a season.

I am the 2^nd of two biological sons, born to my parents just a couple years apart.  But for over 3 years, I had a younger, darker brother – I’ll call him Anton here.  In flipping through photo albums I can still be transported back to those days when the three of us would roughhouse around the family room, wrestling and hugging and playing who-knows-what, having a grand old time!  One picture that is etched in my mind captures the unbridled joys of boyhood, a mass of tangled limbs and smiles in an over-stuffed chair, laughing and holding each other without a care in the world.

Of course, we were naïve…  There were cares in the world.  The early to mid-70s were not exactly years of harmony.  Our country was still in the throes of the Vietnam war, Watergate and Richard Nixon’s impeachment was headline news, and it was just a few short years after the assassination of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  Although the country seemed to be starting to make some progress with civil rights and racial justice, things were far from harmonious.  And Anton’s life had its own struggles.  He’d lost his mother for a time as she worked through her own issues in that season.  He was displaced, living with us until she could qualify to have him back.  Things were far from ideal.  But as children we didn’t know it.  We just liked being together.  I have fond memories of those years.

Over the years, several others boys of various ages and circumstances and skin tones came to live in our home as my parents fostered them for a time.

The more I’ve reflected on those memories, and in light of what I now know of those tense years in our country, I’ve begun to realize how counter-cultural my parents were in the early 70s.  From what I understand, they were looking for a way to serve God and others, and were led toward the foster care system.  They were literally licensed, in 1974, to keep “preschool-aged black boys.”  I’m not sure how many other white, middle-class families were doing that!

All of that in my past laid a foundation in my life that I’m not sure I’ve fully recognized, but has shaped my life and identity.  About 25 years later, Rebecca and I intentionally put ourselves on a list of parents who were willing to adopt African-American or bi-racial babies.  From my understanding, that was a rather short list at the time (and still is).  Because we did, we’ve had the privilege of being known as “Nick’s Parents” for the past 19 years, a half-Hispanic, half-black boy, which has been a blessing beyond compare!

So today, with all of that in the background, I’m watching very real and painful current events…  Events where a white man and his son hunted down a black man and shot him with a shotgun…  Where white police officers smothered the life from a black man as onlookers pled for mercy…  Where the many systemic inequities of our country and culture are coming to light where they’ve been swept under the carpet for far too long.  It is a foreign concept to me that anyone would think less of someone or treat them poorly just because of their ethnicity.

It boggles my mind.

It hurts my heart.

I’m grieved that these issues are still very raw and real.  I’m grieved for my fellow community members of color who have been fighting these inequities all of their lives.  I’m grieved for the ways that I have ignored the problems, or even contributed to them, both by my wrongful action or my inaction.

And I know that such division and hatred and bigotry grieves the heart of God.  Issues of injustice and oppression are in direct opposition to God and His love.  If we’re truly following God, this sin of bigotry and injustice has no place in our lives.

I believe the prophet Micah’s words ring hauntingly true, a few thousand years after they were written…

Micah 6:8 “He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”

I don’t know all of the complicated answers to the very complicated issues facing our country today.  I don’t have the power or position to affect sweeping change.  But I can act justly.  I can love mercy.  I can walk humbly with God.

There are differences, so many differences in our world.  But they don’t need to divide us.

I’m looking for ways, now more than ever, to intentionally put myself in places and relationships where I can learn, grow, and maybe even make a difference as I live to love people to life. 

It has to be so much more than just tolerating people who are different than me.  I’m envisioning what it means to work in tandem with those around me, whatever the differences, bringing God’s light and life and love as we pursue common goals in His name.

So how about it?  Will you seek justice?  And mercy?  Will you walk humbly with God and others as we, together, bridge the things that tend to divide us?

I bought this particular ‘Life is Good’ T-shirt several years ago when my kiddos were younger because it summed up one of our favorite family values: enjoying a meal around the table as often as possible. It was and still is one of our most common practices and routines. Our kids are young adults now but still live at home. They have more responsibilities outside of the home these days, but the one thing that will bring us together is a shared meal. It is not uncommon for me to hear on a daily basis, “what’s for dinner?”

During this recent Corona pandemic, I keep imagining multitudes of families spending their days cooped up together in their homes. I know that can be a hard adjustment when we are so used to the various events and activities that create a rich ebb and flow of our times apart and times together. The truth is it’s fun and fulfilling to spend time coming together and sharing about what you did when you were away. But for now, we have a new normal. I will have to say that it does bring a smile to my face when I think about how often families have the chance for a “value meal.” Whether that is something that you have cultivated in the past, you have the opportunity now to make the most of the time you have with your family. Creating or reinforcing as many routines and connections with each other as possible is one of the keys to keeping our sanity while we are limited in our choices.

Breaking bread and eating together can provide security and connection within a family unit far more than other structured and more complicated activities. I am not disparaging other activities. They are needed too. But since we all have to eat – multiple times a day – why not allow that time to look each other in the eye and communicate directly and indirectly that each family member matters and that coming together provides a strength to endure the hardships through the joy of being together? It can give an anchor to each day.

The experts tell us that the strongest, most connected families spend regular times eating a meal together most days of the week. No phones, no technology. Letting conversation surface through the rhythm of eating. You may have to be intentional at first to generate the types of conversations and topics that you want or don’t want to be part of table talk. The tone you set will provide the backdrop for ongoing interactions and help you to redirect if someone attempts to derail the time together. Don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that hard conversations or deep questions are restricted. The goal is that they are handled with respect and acceptance so that mealtimes are a safe connector, not a divider. You can even determine if certain questions or topics may be better handled at a separate time if they are threatening the goals of eating together. In my experience, even if other family interactions have been tense throughout the day, you can still find joy in the food itself and the predictability of the rhythm.

Jesus regularly shared meals with friends, strangers, and enemies. Sometimes it was just to obtain the fuel for sustaining life. Other times, for the joy of interpersonal connection. Many times, the Bible tells us that the sharing of a meal was the launching point for Jesus to teach, reinforce, or correct. Why not take the opportunity to be like Jesus? To utilize the necessity of consuming food to make the most of our time with the tribe with whom we are sequestered? Who knows? You may end up with a whole new definition of a “Value Meal!”

In a broader sense than mealtime, I think it’s vital to take a serious look at what habits have changed during this quarantine. What are some of the beneficial rhythms that have surfaced that you want to maintain and hold onto far into the future? What are you now going to continue to make time for and protect? How will you evaluate what has changed you and your family for the good? We have a chance to reestablish how we live out our values and spend our time. Let’s make sure we give this thought before we find ourselves drifting into old patterns and wishing for more time together when life picks back up.

In the aftermath of 9-11, when planes crashed in horrible acts of terror against our country, life changed.  We didn’t know what to do or where to turn.  So we turned to each other.  We got together.  We gathered for meals.  We held loved ones close.  We cried together.  We worshipped together.  We prayed together.  And although some things were changed forever and life has been different since that day, we have healed, together.

In the midst of the current global crisis, the COVID19 pandemic, life has changed, and is changing.  As with 9-11, or any crisis, our normal response is to want to gather together, to hold each other tight…to go through this together.  But we can’t.  Because I might be a carrier.  I might be contagious.  Or you might.  So I have to stay 6 feet away from everyone.  At this time of crisis when we are in desperate need of living in tandem with those close to us, it seems as though we can’t, because it might make things worse.

But although physical hugs and handshakes might not be advisable or even possible, I’m convinced that it’s vital to find and fight for ways to stay connected, with the people in your life and with God.  That’s the way we’ll heal, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.  We’ll walk through this in tandem – together.  Because we need each other, especially in times of crisis.

G. K. Chesterton once said, “There are no words to express the abyss between isolation and having one ally.  It may be conceded to the mathematician that four is twice two.  But two is not twice one; two is two thousand times one.”

Having someone makes all the difference!  It might not even be someone who can change anything – no one seems to be able to attack this virus as it spreads.  But there’s something about walking through difficulty together, in tandem, that makes it bearable.

I’m reminded of the familiar words of the 23^rd Psalm…  “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me…”

That’s a promise an amazing promise of companionship with God, that we can walk hand in hand with Jesus!  It’s not necessarily a promise of deliverance from the ‘valley of the shadow of death.’  But He’s promising to with us in it…through it…  “You are with me” makes all the difference.

And so although things are different than they’ve ever been, the worst thing you can do is to let the crises of life throw you off-course!  Fight for those connections!  Find new ways to be with God and with the people in your life.

You may find more time on your hands if you’re working from home or your employer has closed down or you’re home with kids who are off school…  So be intentional about spending time with God. 

• Pray.  Connect with your Father.
• Read and study Scripture.  Maybe this will be a great time for you to rediscover God’s Word as you have time to invest in reading and listening and growing. 
• Find great Christian content online.  Although you might not be physically attending church, take online church seriously.  Look for worship music that speaks to you.  Be intentional about gathering those that you’re ‘quarantining’ with to watch a sermon, to have family worship.

And be intentional about connecting with people too.  It can be tempting to cocoon and isolate – I mean, they’re calling it, “social-distancing…”  But look for ways for ‘social-tandeming,’ even if it can’t be in person, or in ways you’re used to.

• Call people.  Check on your neighbors.  Have long conversations with loved ones.  
• In your home, play games together.  Do a puzzle.  Ask questions.  Tell stories.  Cook dinner. 
• Pray for people.

Don’t let yourself get sucked into the mind-numbing aspects of Netflix and social media…  Instead, use the technology we have available to connect with others and with God, to learn and grow during this time.  As Paul wrote to his friends in Philippi…

“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ—to the glory and praise of God.” Philippians 1:9-11

All of those things that Paul talks about there can still happen, maybe even more, in this strange new time.  Be intentional about discerning what’s best, about becoming more like Christ, about developing your love for God and each other.  Right now that has to look a little different.  But let’s see what God can do in you and through you as we walk through this valley, together!

#socialtandeming

We called it “The Game.”

Pete and I met in college our freshman year and dated throughout our 4 years (with a couple of breaks here and there), getting married one month after our graduation. My memory does not recall when “The Game” got started, who started it, or how it actually developed, but I do recall that it must have started early on because we did a lot of it!

Our college was located in a small rural town, so many of our special dates involved long drives to reach a different location. Day to day, we did a lot of walking around campus and around town in order to spend some alone time together. We used those times to play “The Game.” The rules were basic, and the goal was to get to know each other super well (even if we couldn’t articulate it at the time). Here’s how it went: either person could ask the other any question – and they had to answer. The catch was the asker also had to be prepared to answer the same question as well. There was no list, no system, no agenda. As time progressed, the questions began to reach below the surface, became more challenging to answer, and increased in intimacy. We realized our dialogue was broaching new heights, and we often had to come back to a question because it just needed more research or pondering. It became clear what we agreed or disagreed on, what preferences and priorities the other clung to, what struck a really deep chord, or what really didn’t matter to either one of us. Sometimes we ended up laughing, crying or just being quiet. But at the end, we always knew each other a little bit better. Since we dated for so long before getting married, you could say that we knew each other pretty well and had a clear vision of our goals and how we would support each other early on. Details would need to surface or come into focus, but there was little surprise about how the other would act or react. It was no telepathic thing. It just grew from our time tending to each other.

Most mornings for the past several years I wake with the same thought, “you see me, and you know me.” That is a phrase from a scripture passage in Psalm 139. A rich and intimate passage about how the Lord created us, knows us, and is not surprised by us. Various verses in Ps. 139 have spoken to me over the years, but the theme song of my mornings return me to that simple phrase, “you see me, and you know me.” While this would remain true on God’s part whether I ever knew it or not, it springs into life when I embrace how deeply he knows and cares about all of the big and little things about me. My awareness has increased as I choose to play “the game” with him. Positioning myself to talk, listen, and consider what God thinks about various topics and situations has brought me into a greater knowledge of his sovereign will. The mind of Christ. It helps me to love what he loves and hate what he hates. To take a step of faith. To know how he would respond to choices that present themselves to me. My mind has rehearsed the portion of that verse so much that it is the first thing my conscious self remembers every day.

It just grows from our time tending to each other; in learning how to know another and to be known by them. In the book, Anatomy of the Soul*, by Curt Thompson, M.D., he describes a patient he worked with who was a very educated man but wanted help for a struggling marriage. As Curt got to know him, he realized, “he (the patient) knew things. But he hadn’t been known by anyone in such a way that he felt understood, forgiven, or encouraged. Not by people nor by God. And to the degree that he was not known, the one thing he could not know was his own heart. This, in turn, limited the development of the characteristics of God’s Kingdom in his life.” It also limited his ability to fully engage in healthy relationships.

Do you ever wonder what God’s will is for you? Do you face choices that seem to have no clear direction or no apparent direction at all? Do you even care what God may think about the way you live your life or interact with others? In the sum of all my years that I have walked with the Lord, I can barely recall any time I received very specific directions from him; no booming voice, no big sign or wonder, no grand dream in the middle of the night. What I have found is that frequent rhythms of time spent seeking his presence has helped me develop a sense of his mind, his affirmation, his blessing, his reservation, his “yes”, his “wait,” and his “no.” I call that discernment. The Scriptures tell us that developing discernment is the path to knowledge and to God’s heart. It is a supernatural work that he does within us when we ask for it and then spend time with him to let it grow within us.

Proverbs 14:6 – The mocker seeks wisdom and finds none, but knowledge comes easily to the discerning.

Philippians 1:9 & 10 – And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ.

Psalms 119:125 – I am your servant; give me discernment that I may understand your statues.

Hear me out: I have not reached some glorious threshold of discerning every detail of my life. I get impatient, confused, and frustrated. I still spend time letting thought threads and cycles swirl in my brain before stopping and taking it to the Lord. What I do see changing though is, no matter how satisfying it is to remember every morning that He sees me and knows me, my heart longs to know him back.

*Thompson, Curt. Anatomy of the Soul: Surprising Connections between Neuroscience and Spiritual Practices That Can Transform Your Life and Relationships. Carol Stream: Tyndale House, 2010.