Undone

 "Engaging the faith of others will almost certainly cause you to lose faith in the old box you kept God in" Barbara Brown Taylor

Twice a week this summer, Peanut and I are volunteering in our church's literacy outreach program.

24 precious children show up in their daycare bus, unload and bound into our church.

They are greeted with warmth and smiles.

We try to work with them on not just decoding reading skills but also on general literacy skills.

The first week or two I stumbled in trying to figure out what to bring, what lessons to try to accomplish as most days the children who show up are in some hodge podge rotation.

I asked them about interests. I did some basic reading level screenings. I went to the library and got them a wide variety of books on topics they were interested in. I made them flash cards. Brought them games.

Over the last few weeks, I've realized what these children really need is someone to pay attention to them.

Someone to listen when they talk.

Someone to ask questions.

Someone to truly care about the small.

They need someone to invest in them.

So we read about Hawkeye but I also get to see their cool martial arts move they made up in case one day they become Hawkeye.

We read about emotions and I learn who likes to draw when they are sad versus who likes to withdraw in.

I want Peanut to understand that different families have to make different choices.

Perhaps no one can read with these kids individually because the single mom is outnumbered by the kids. Or the mom and dad both work incredibly hard to stay afloat so these kids have homes, food, and shoes on their feet. Many of these kids are loved incredibly by their parents - I can tell in the stories they share about their homes.

There just isn't someone to bridge the gap between school and home.

I want her to see that in a community of love - we bridge the gap.

Each week in church we say this:

"Have mercy upon us, most merciful Father; in your compassion forgive us our sings, known and unknown, things done and left undone."

It's that last phrase that catches me every single time.

Things left undone.

I think we can all (mostly) identify the things we've done that we shouldn't.

We spoke harshly when we should have held our tongue.

We participated in gossip when we should have refrained.

It's the things left undone that keep me up at night.

Did I see a need and not meet it?

From the moment the church announced the number of kids struggling with reading in our community - I had seen the need.

It falls in that category - did you see someone hungry and not feed them?

I firmly believe we are not all called to meet every need.

Our church alone announces 6-8 things a week where a need is identified.

They are not all mine to fill.

But some of them are.

Some of them are definitely my "things left undone."

So I show up each week.

The funny thing about serving to me is I always go into thinking I'm going to do something for someone else.

This past week my little table was rambunctious. They were wiggly. Working on reading when reading is hard for you is........hard. We had worked hard on decoding so we took a minute to just listen. I read them a book and they colored a bookmark to take home while they listened.

As the children lined up to board the bus to leave, one of my wiggly boys came running back, barreling into me with the most loving hug I've ever received.

I don't at all think he cares currently about his reading ability.

I do think he knows I care about him.

I do think he knows how he felt after we spent time together.

Each week as we end the service, we say :

"Send us now into the world in peace, and grant us strength and courage to love and serve you with gladness and singleness of heart."

I think about phrase a lot.

How these kids, and I, we fill our wells in different churches each week.

We draw from a different source.

But yet, singleness of heart.

Mama Warriors, I hope this summer you find a chance for your kids to serve outside your box.

To serve people who live different lives than they do.

Let's gift them the chance to see and not leave it undone.

Forgiveness and Sweet Tea

 “No one can prove that God does or doesn’t exist, but tough acts of forgiveness are pretty convincing for me…Forgiveness is the hardest work we do.” Anne Lamott

This week I took Peanut to meet her sweet friends at a local CFA to have lunch and play a role playing game they love.

We lingered over chicken and sweet tea for several hours. As it seems to go this summer, we then got trapped by a torrential downpour and thunder/lightening.

As we waited out the storm, I looked over at another table and realized someone I knew once upon a time was sitting on the other side of the restaurant.

What's the word the kids use these days? Triggered? I was immediately triggered.

Taken back to a time I just can't seem to leave behind.

This person was the catalyst for a string of events that at the very core separated one of my kids from Jesus.

This person chose who got to sit at the table. And she decided one of my kids was not worthy.

Not only did she make that decision but she rallied a church to stand behind her in it.

And they did.

People who had watched this kid grow up. People who had welcomed this kid into their homes. People I thought loved this kid. People I thought loved me.

The moms who I was raising this kid with.

Sat in meetings behind closed doors and talked about my kid. Without this kid present. Without me present.

And not one ever reached out to me about the damage done. Not one.

A church we had faithfully attended and served at for a decade shoved us out, closed the door, and not one person ever contacted us. Not one.

As I glanced at her over my sweet tea, I realized I'm still angry.

I'm always amazed at people who manage to forgive someone in what definitely feels like an unforgiveable circumstance.

I know the rhetoric we hear is that forgiveness is for US not for them.

But I want her to be sorry.

The tough work of forgiveness is that she will probably never be sorry.

She has highlighted her one line of scripture and decided she gets to be the gatekeeper to Jesus.

Maybe I should feel sorry for her?

That she somehow missed the forest for the trees.

That she somehow read the Gospel and thought it was her job to decide who sits at Jesus's table. That she missed it. That she has no idea what it means to really love your neighbor.

I'm doing the deep dive into my own work of healing.

Forgiveness I've decided is about releasing the anger.

But not forgetting.

I will never forget the damage done.

Maybe forgiveness is about learning the way forward.

That trial in our life led me to deconstruct and rebuild my faith. It was a slow and painful process.

It has made me a vocal learner about the hidden ugliness of various faith traditions in our community.

It has made me ridiculously protective of the version of Jesus that Peanut is exposed to.

No one else will tell a child of mine that they are not welcome at Jesus's table. I won't take her to a tradition that condones such ridiculousness.

Mama Warriors, I don't have a roadmap for forgiveness. Especially when it involves someone we have given birth to either from our body or our heart.

I don't think forgiveness is saying what was done is okay.

I don't think forgiveness is forgetting.

Maybe forgiveness is figuring out how to release the anger and hurt and move forward.

Maybe forgiveness is acknowledging the pain exists and sitting in it until you've dealt with all the big feelings.

Maybe forgiveness isn't a one and done.

But something you have to do while sipping your sweet tea waiting for the rain to pass. Again.

Welcome at The Table

 "If we are controlling the guest list, then it's not the Lord's table." Sarah Bessey

Our church partners with a local day care center. One of the current needs of the daycare center is reading help for their school age children.

I love that our church has a "see a need, meet a need" philosophy and so a committee was formed. Volunteers were found. And a literacy program was began. Training was completed. Supplies were bought.

Last week I had the opportunity to meet my group of 2nd and 3rd graders. I read them one of my favorite books - Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day.

Books are a great way to form connections. As I read the book, I stopped and asked the kids questions.

We ended the book by thinking about how Alexander responds to his very bad day.

He complains. He throws a fit. He has a very negative attitude.

I asked my new friends -was this helpful?

What could Alexander have done instead?

We talked about what we can do when we have a bad day.

One of my new sweet friends said "We can go to church."

I love that he has a positive relationship with church. He currently views church as a safe place. A helpful place.

A place that makes a bad day better.

A place where he feels welcome at the table.

I hope he always feels this way.

I want this for all the kids in our community. I want them to feel welcome and wanted at the Lord's table.

Because it's not MY table.

It's His.

Unfortunately I have found that many churches are making decisions on who is on the guest list at dinner.

People who are so focused on having a "biblical life" that they have lost living a life based on the character of God.

I challenge you to consider - if EVERYONE is welcome at your church - are they there?

If you look around the pews on Sunday morning, do you find people who are just like you?

Or do you find people from different walks of life, people who vote differently, people who look different?

Mama Warriors, this month as many people take the opportunity to celebrate Pride month - I challenge you to take a moment and educate yourself on the statistics that surround LGBTQ community, specifically the youth, and church.

Why is it that LGBTQ youth that attend a religious church are more likely to commit suicide? Like a double risk?

Why is it they don't feel welcome at the table?

Is it our table to decide?

*Today's boundary - if you are ugly or quote scripture at me as a weapon, I will unfriend you. If you feel a child is better off killing themself than being welcome at church as an LGBTQ youth , we will not agree. *

MGI

 "You are measuring life by the number of bumps in the road. That's not an accurate measurement by any means." (Story of My Life)

Peanut spent this last week serving as a Leader In Training (LIT) for Camp Invention. This was an incredible opportunity for her. I saw her lean into this challenge with grace and perseverance.

Logistically this week looked a lot different for us than a "normal" week. Each day we had to be up and out of the house early. With a themed outfit, lunch, snack, water bottle, all the things.

Peanut was away from home 7 plus hours a day.

For many of you, that is totally your norm. But it's not ours.

Mid week I picked her up and she made it to the car before full meltdown mode ensued. Oh the crying. With no audible reason.

I should preface this story by sharing that Peanut and I had already gotten off to a rough start this week.

12 is the year of the Jekyll and Hyde. Some moments there is playing with toys, being silly, and sweet snuggles. Other moments there is snarkiness, dramatic sighs and audible grunts of displeasure. 12 is the "between" stage. Somewhere between being a little kid and a teenager. Between.

Relationships involve two people and so while Peanut was at camp each day I devoured Parenting Teens podcasts looking for new tools for my toolbox.

One of the tools I gathered this week was the challenge to choose to make the "Most Generous Interpretation" of the other person. When in a challenge, PAUSE and think "what is the most generous explanation for the behavior?"

And choose to believe that.

I looked at Peanut, in full meltdown mode, and thought...........Peanut is tired. These are full days combined with late summer nights. Peanut is hungry. She's going through a growth spurt and isn't used to eating on someone else's schedule. Peanut is 12. It's hard to be 12.

The most generous interpretation of the moment was that Peanut is a good kid having a hard time. She needed to restore her norm- a hug, a snack, a rest.

Peanut needed help figuring out how to regulate her big emotions.

I've been thinking this week how I need to work on choosing to make the most generous interpretation in all my relationships.

What would happen if I reframed my negative interactions around making the most generous interpretation?

Maybe the older woman who I feel is assertive and talks too much would be seen through the light of needing to feel useful, trying to find her space in a new season of life.

Maybe the coffee shop employee who isn't giving "pleasure to serve you vibes" is having a bad morning - maybe they too are a good kid having a hard time.

There's space and grace for the most generous interpretation.

Mama Warriors, I think we as a society take way too many things personal.

I don't think the car who cuts you off in traffic is out to get YOU.

I don't think the employee who is rude hates YOU.

I don't think your kid lashing out at you has anything to do with YOU.

But we react like everything is about us.

We are a community who has forgotten we are a community. We don't make the most generous interpretations for the world around us.

But we want them to make it for us right?

Maybe this week we PAUSE for a moment and challenge ourselves - what's the most generous interpretation for this moment? What story offers the other person the most grace and space?

I think we'd find that's what Jesus would do..........

Show Up

 “one of the worst things about being a parent, for me, is the self-discovery, the being face to face with one's secret insanity and brokenness and rage.” ― Anne Lamott, Operating Instructions

Yesterday we had the opportunity to take some family photos at a somewhat local park as a Mother's day gift.

You'll notice this picture is not my entire family.

These are the people who chose to come to the family photo.

If you've been with me a while, you know Mother's day is not my favorite holiday. Remember the glitter and the glue?

I would wager that Mother's day is difficult for the majority of women.

Yet Walmart continues to run an ad and Hallmark continues to make a card.

And for many, it's a day of deep sadness or disappointment. Or both.

As I stood taking this picture yesterday, wind blowing in my hair and trying to figure out if I was supposed to cross my left arm over my right or vice versa, I reminded myself that women show up.

We show up and we stay.

Even if no one else does.

Even if we don't want to.

It was women who showed up at the crucifixion. It was women who showed up at the tomb.

Some of you wake up this morning without a mom. I see you today showing up for the remaining parent, for your siblings, for your own family.

Some of you wake up this morning having never had children. I see you today being the most fabulous aunt, the best godparent, the most encouraging teacher.

Some of you wake up this morning having had children who are no longer with us. I see you today continuing to put one foot in front of the other.

Some of you wake up this morning having had children who don't celebrate with you. I see you today loving them unconditionally from a far.

I see each of you today showing up and staying.

Mama Warriors, social media can be an ugly beast of comparison on a holiday.

Maybe today you gift yourself a fast from scrolling.

You read a book instead. Or binge your favorite comfort show.

Take a moment to celebrate yourself for showing up and staying even when Mother's day doesn't look like you wish it did.