wishman

 Have you ever practiced the Trinitarian Prayer? Do you know what it is? If not- you can learn more here: (Don’t worry- my post will make sense without it) https://www.buzzsprout.com/134488/2838763-spiritual-formation-trinitarian-prayer-journaling?play=true. 

The first thing we do in the Trinitarian Prayer is recognize who God is- our Heavenly Father. We can ask for the most wild of things- because he is our great Dad who loves us and wants the very best for us. And asking for wild and beautiful things brings you closer because it allows you to bear your longings. If you’re anything like me you’re terrified to ask for more- am I deserving of more? Most of the world lives without 99% of the things I possess- who am I to ask for more… but that’s not the point. The point is to ask. 

One of my favorite musicians is this guy named Trevor Hall. He’s a skinny guy with dreads and tattoos and takes album photos in the forest- what’s not to love?!? :) He has a song called, Wishman. You might be able to guess where this is going… 

So this song that Trevor sings is about meeting a homeless guy at the bayou when he’s wearing a t shirt that says “Wish.” The homeless guy hollers out, “Hey wishman! What’s your wish?” And Trevor doesn’t have an answer… (You can watch the youtube where he explains the song and also sings it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIzF-8CM3g8&list=RDQIzF-8CM3g8&start_radio=1

Obviously you could dive into some theology here and maybe not be all into this… or maybe you could follow my imagination and see if you track my thoughts. I invite you to do the latter. 

What if we knew what we most wished for? What if we when wearing a t-shirt that said, “Wish” on it someone said, “Hey you- Wisher! What do you wish for?” And we had a reply… And what if it wasn’t a far away wish for far away things... What if it was a wish (longing/desire) for your life here and now? And what if you were working out the details with the Creator in Heaven who loves you?

Let’s re-engage our hearts - let’s know our deepest longings- and make them known to our perfect Father who loves us. Of course this requires an enormous amount of vulnerability- our wishes/longing/desires may never come to fruition. They might be so wild that the world laughs. But guess who won’t laugh- not at you anyway- our Great God who has time to hear us, the great ability to love us, and the longing to know us. 

Let’s be known. And if you’re like me- you might need a nudge… 

Let’s wish again. 

shade

He was a history major, shaggy light brown hair, and an awkward mustache- one that proved his age was young, but his soul was old. At 22 he was about to graduate college and go home to teach History. He was a world traveler excited to go on one last college trip. 

She was an elementary education major with long brown hair and brown eyes who spent her time enjoying the easiness of life.  She almost didn’t go on the trip but was warned about some guy named Fidel Castrol and his Communist government and the complexity of a US relationship that could easily prevent a future trip. So, at the very last minute she took out a loan, packed her bags, and because the trip was full, agreed to be the teacher’s roommate.

There the two stood in a beautiful hotel full of pictures and hand carved wooden tables and chairs. Just out the windows the aqua blue Caribbean seemed to almost dance. The cars parked outside the hotel marked a scene that’s straight out of the 1950’s- bright blue car bodies with white tops- and a unique design that truly takes one back in time. It’s not the scene of a movie production in process- it’s Havana, Cuba in 2003.  

The hotel served all kinds of delicious Cuban foods- ropa vieja, pollo asado, and the famously delicious Cuban sandwich, made with a large loaf of white french bread lathered with mustard, ham, pork, and melted swiss cheese with pickles. She ate the sandwich at every hotel. He, a vegetarian, was offered free black beans and rice. In a country that lacks a regular serving of meat it was inconceivable that one would choose to abstain.

Early in the morning the group lingered in the lobby while they waited for their bus. She needed to use the bathroom and asked him if he’d watch her bag. “I’d be much obliged,” he answered. She stopped, perplexed. Did this mean yes or no? Who talks like this? She decided he must mean, “yes” and left her bags.

They loaded the bus and headed towards the next location, a historic city named Trinidad known for it’s sugar cane farming and beautiful Spanish architecture. They were offered two choices for their next day adventure: to swim in the Caribbean or tour the city. She planned to swim. He was completely bewildered by this decision and responded, “Well I am touring the city.” 

Wanting to see what this mysterious guy was all about  she joined him in the city. He, being the passionate history teacher, enthusiastically taught her all about the history of Cuba while joyfully smoking a local Cohiba cigar. They were transplanted among beautifully painted buildings, antique white wrought iron fences, and authentic music around every corner. She became enamored with the tragically complex and beautiful country that he already loved. 

Together they’d spend hours on the warm beach drinking Cuban rum with Coke and smoking  cigars flavored with a trace of salty beach laughing hysterically as they watched the sun set and then rise again the next morning. 

prompt: fire

The 100 year old brick house stood connected to a huge lot on the famous corner of Mack and Burns in Detroit. We purchased the abandoned house for $10,000 and it was completely remodeled. We were given beautiful oak kitchen cabinets from a family up north who was redoing their kitchen in white. When my husband wasn’t working 100 hours a week in the hospital as a resident physician he spent his other waking moments preparing the house. We painted the walls and redid the bathrooms. Every square inch had been touched with a loving hand. 

The move happened in July and by winter our baby girl joined our family making us now 5. It was a cold night and the new wood burning stove was lit and blowing hot air. I had just showered and was cuddled up on the couch with my infant, chatting with my husband, and our 2 friends while our young boys were asleep in their room. We heard our 2 year old son calling. I looked at my husband in confusion and he quickly headed up the stairs… he wasn’t even halfway up when it clicked- my heart sank and then raced- my body grew hot and I started running to beat him up the stairs. He opened the door to Clayton standing in his crib crying out, the other brother, Bentley was three and fast  asleep unaware anything was happening outside of his dreams. It was smokey, but not overwhelmingly so, until my husband opened the closet door where I kept my clothes (100 year old homes didn’t account for modern day wardrobes, which meant my clothes were in their room). As he opened the door flames broke out from the wake of oxygen and he shouted to grab the boys. I ended up in an adjacent bedroom with them in my arms, a visiting friend grabbed Lily so I could embrace them more securely while I  sobbed.  David and our other friend opened the window and started throwing burning clothes out the window from the second story and into the snow below. 

I knew right away what had happened. My closet didn’t have a light and phones didn’t come equipped with ready flashlights like they do now- I strung a lightbulb meant for a paper lantern around the pole in my closet. When I was done, I pushed the clothes towards each other trapping the lightbulb between them and then proceeded to shower without unplugging it. 

I was without sleep with 2 active boys and a brand new baby- so of course it happened. A tired mother, an old home, and a bad idea to have a light bulb strung in a closet. Full of guilt I looked up from the faces of my boys to meet the faces of our friends and my husband who sat silently next to me until my chest lifted and I exhaled relief that everyone was alive and well. 

Two Words

He came into the world in the middle of a sweltering Michigan summer and the hospital air conditioning gave a welcome relief to the heat and humidity. For months I had planned exactly how this moment would go. The birth was harder than I imagined, but I was so relieved to meet my son that I almost forgot about the pain instantly. After what seemed like an eternity of being alone the neonatologist came to announce her predicted diagnosis: Down syndrome. After a longer than normal hospital stay and a slew of tests we’d leave with another diagnosis: a VSD and a PDA- minor heart complications that may or may not need surgery. Only time would tell.

 I was young and uncompromising and refused to know the baby’s gender in utero, didn’t do any prenatal testing, was determined to avoid medication, and planned to breastfeed. The lactation consultant came in to let me know he’d probably never nurse. “Their mouths are weak, “ she informed me. I was also reminded that we wouldn’t know how his heart would heal and that could negatively impact his feeding and weight gain as well.

 I left the hospital with a rented commercial grade pump, tiny bottles, syringes, and their backup plan- infant formula. “For when you need it,” they said. I pumped every couple hours for an hour’s time and then syringe fed my baby drops of precious milk to avoid nipple confusion for weeks. I was exhausted and yet completely determined. Eventually the bottles faded away and I could feed my baby without equipment. I would cuddle up on the couch with my baby and turn on the tv show Alias. Eventually he learned that when he heard the intro song he’d start moving his head to find his milk!

At his four month check up the pediatrician weighed my son and then began the usual litany of questions- including “how’s he sleeping?” I wake him up every four hours to eat, I said. She stopped and looked at me with a slight smile and warm eyes. “He’s 17 pounds, you can let him sleep through the night.” I can only imagine I exhaled a huge sigh of relief- oh sleep, beautiful sleep.


At 6 months he had a follow up with a new cardiologist. The cardiologist was encouraged by his strong weight gain. He asked me if my baby had any “other” medical conditions. “No,” I answered. He continued to examine him- looking at his profile, his eyes, chin, and hands. After another series of questions I finally said, “Well, he has Down syndrome too you know.” “No, I didn’t know! Don’t you think I’d want to know that? That is a medical condition.” I felt so small sitting in his sterile exam room. I was holding the little baby I had been so proudly feeding independently, only to be reminded that his accomplishments would always be compared with the same two heavy words: Down syndrome.

the lost remote and cord

For most of Bentley’s life his access to technology has been a computer laptop or an iPad. Both of these items are easy to put on a shelf or put a lock code on to prohibit his free range use. When we moved to this house we were given a television and would sometimes find Bentley up in the night watching his favorite show on Netflix while eating some variation of food he had made in the kitchen. We quickly realized adjustments had to be made in our home to prevent this from happening in the future. 

So I start by asking, “What would you do?” What strategy would you put in place to help prevent the midnight or early morning tv watcher? 

First we took the remote and hid it, but unbeknownst to us there is a button on the back of the tv that can allow one to navigate the whole tv- it’s quite amazing- I actually still can’t get it to do what I want, but Bentley works it with at least 90% accuracy. After this realization we decided we’d just take the cord and the remote to our room and tuck it in a random drawer so that he would come out to a black television with no hope. This strategy works wonders! It’s great! However sometimes we forget to unplug the cord and take the remote to be hidden so I’ll come out of the bedroom, pre-caffeine, while David is running- to find him watching. I’ll generally roll my eyes and say, “Bentley!” and then proceed to grab the cord and the remote and put them in a place. This same event can happen throughout the day if
A. he finds the cord and remote and gets the tv on
B. we forget to unplug after a family show
C. some variation that I am forgetting… 

Here’s the problem with the spontaneous unplugging- I can NEVER remember where I have hidden the remote and the cord. So in our home- on almost any given day of the week- when the kids have earned their screen time, it will take us upwards of 20 minutes to locate the things we need to watch tv or play the old school Nintendo. I started laughing so hard yesterday because Clayton was getting so mad (understandably so) and I said, “Buddy, your college friends are never gonna believe the obstacles you had to climb to get to watch a simple show!” This moment allowed us to laugh together and think about the strange things families do to survive. It’s 2:00 PM today and the kids are finishing up their chores and schoolwork and I know that well earned screen time is just off in the distance- and I could be one of those organized people that goes and hunts down the remote and the cord now- or I could even be one of those people who sees the disaster approaching and learns to hide the items in the same place…. but I won’t… and today will be just like every other day.

corona life

is it morning? 

5:28 Am

is it still here? 

500,000 and counting

dressed, i run into the desert

the sun rising

the mountains change color

i stop in awe.

home, hot breakfast awaits me

eggs from our ladies, fresh veggies, juice

math, geography, history

snack

chickens fed

creative drawing time for the kids

i open the news

not enough masks

not enough ventilators

are we ready? 

italy, spain, and new york says we aren't 

hot lunch daily

today tuna melts and vegetables

chores- clothes put away, rooms cleaned

1 hour of reading

1 hour of screens

i go back to the news

india, how will you eat? 

1.3 billion people home for 21 days 

in a country that shops daily

i try to read something else

but my mind wanders back

i text friends

are you ok? 

do you need anything? 

sometimes several at once

"off the screens" i yell!

swim? bike? jump? : the kids play

i call david: when will you be home? 

i chop onions, potatoes

roast corn and brussel sprouts

make a caesar salad

cook veggie burgers

david comes home, strips, launders, showers

we pray

we eat

we clean

kids shower

play game? 

learn a dance? 

david reads 100 cupboards to the kids

i pour myself a glass of whiskey

i made it

we share our news

we turn on a show

we kiss

goodnight

mousetraps and broken cars

My mom flew in to Tucson last weekend to help me drive the car and the kids up to the Pacific Northwest. Days before her flight she had a massive vertigo attack and didn't think she'd make it. After much deliberation she decided to go for it. Long story short- we made the 1600 mile trip without any problems. I secretly continually prayed the car wouldn't have any troubles because I knew that might throw us each over the edge. Yesterday David flew into Portland and I picked him up and off we drove towards my dad's house. Not 2 hours into the trip we started getting flashing lights- I smelled a little burning but I was the only one who could smell it... we ended up getting two new tires and prayed all would be well. We arrived at my dad's house and we couldn't get the brake lights off... so we unplugged the brake switch and figured we could jimmy rig the car at least until our epic Glacier National Park trip is over.

This morning we went to my Dad's church which is next door to his house (he lives in the parsonage).  Lily and Clayton did the reading for everyone and even helped sing using the microphone. The church members brought food to share and we had a wonderful potluck. My dad preached a sermon on purpose- sometimes we know what our purpose is- and sometimes we could do this or that and there's no real obvious option. As Christians our purpose is to share the love of Christ with those around us. It's so easy to live our lives and forget this truth- we think that it's all about us- our plans- our adventures- our desires.

After church we loaded up the car and put the key in the ignition- got it to start- and the gears won't shift. My dad drove to a neighbor's house to grab some tools to help- and returned with those. Then he went to a farmer's house and brought him back with him. The wheat is about to be harvested in this super tiny town (elementary class size for upcoming kinder: 5 students) and people are preparing for the big harvest- but they still came to help. The farmer wasn't really able to help us, but the neighbor thinks he knows- as he was backing out I ran his tools to him and he exclaimed, "Your dad brought these tools to fix THAT van? What was he gonna do with this giant screwdriver? The worst thing I ever did was show your dad where my tools are kept." And he drove off. We all had a good laugh when I repeated the story.

My dad, David, and the 3 kids loaded up into the tiny corolla and drove to Pullman for the part. Upon arrival they realized Pullman doesn't have the part- they have to go to Spokane, but wanted to return the kids (I won't even begin to imagine the headache of those 3 in the back seat hahaha). I offered to meet them halfway and drive my dad's old Concorde- then I received a text that read, " Your dad just told me that if you're driving the Concorde you have to open the hood and take the mousetraps off the engine before you drive it." This fits right in with the light switch in the bedroom that is jimmy rigged to a hallway drawer with a rubber band to get the light on. It's my whole childhood unfolding in front of me.

I managed to find the things I needed to make a cup of coffee because I know I need a perspective change- I came outside to drink it.... it's about 75/80 degrees. The grass is glowing green with a giant weeping willow tree in the front yard- the wheat fields are all I can see for miles- not a house or car or person in sight.... and I began to soak in the beauty of my hair blowing in the wind- the perfect weather- the truth that I am on vacation- a privilege in itself. I am not entitled to a perfect vacation- even though I have been planning this one for months- trying to get in time with both my parents and see the glaciers- all in a tight window before a family wedding. David is so good about being calm and inviting me to be thankful and laugh about the plans that are falling apart.

I don't know when the car is going to get fixed- but here is what I do know.... my dad is one of the most hilarious, flexible, generous, people I know. My husband is a go getting, thoughtful, happy man that I'd travel anywhere in the world with. I have 3 kids who jumped in a tiny car for a 1.5 hour round trip car ride to get a plastic part for our broken van- because they wanted to be with their grandpa. Neighbors came to help immediately. And I am being molded into holiness. I do believe that we have an opportunity to respond to the things that happen to us in a variety of ways. In this case- no one is hurt- no one is sad- we have an old and currently broken vehicle we planned to take on a 4,000 mile road trip to see family, go to Adam's Camp, and visit the glaciers. We are together- and together we can become the iron that sharpens iron.

Together we can overcome challenges with humility, humor, and grace.... and maybe some eye rolls, some sass, and some disappointment-- But either way the challenges are there- so we get to pick our response- today I picked sass, followed by reflection- and now a softened heart.....

So when I think about the invitation to consider my purpose- I am reminded my purpose isn't about accomplishing anything or getting my family on time to the next destination- it's about teaching the kids and myself that when obstacles come our way how to handle them. So we'll throw some frisbees- maybe watch some soccer- and take a walk in wheat country. And maybe tomorrow we will make it to Glacier National Park... but then again... maybe not.  I'll let you know.

Peace.