We're all Bad Guys

Bella and I were out on a rare lunch date after her doctor appointments. When you have 5-sometimes-9 kids, its extra special to have time one-on-one with them, and they soak this up too. Bella wanted "pop" and "pizza" but mostly pop as she was sure to tell me over and over again until we finally pulled in to pizza ranch. Normally I'm chasing two or three littles and trying to make sure no one gets run over in the parking lot, making sure no one disappears in the restaurant, and that a major food fight doesn't break out. When it's just us, I have time to actually be that fun mom I used to be. I loved having the time to be patient with her while she slowly climbs out of the van and takes forever to walk in to the building so she can look at everything on the way. I love being able to let her come along and pick out what she wants from the buffet and hear her stories and sit across the table and soak up her sweet smile. I love that when I ask her if we should pray, she instantly sits up straight, sets down her pizza, makes the sign of the cross, folds her hands and prays along. I soak up every moment of the whole meal and when I go to get her dessert I get her dessert pizza AND a cookie slice just because I can. I'm probably beaming as I set the plate in front of her and watch her eyes grow big.  This is the fun part of being a mom. 

And then a man approaches our table and says "You don't know me from Adam, but I've been watching you and you are so impressive. You would make any Dad proud. When you prayed with your daughter earlier, that was great. You're doing a great job and I just had to tell you, you make a Dad proud."

It was really sweet of him to say. But I couldn't help as I thanked him to be sure to mention I have plenty of not-so-nice moments that he doesn't see. 

Taking compliments has always been hard for me but I've been struggling with this a lot lately. I see my sin everyday. Up close and personal. Every second of it. And it's really ugly. I see all the times I yell at the kids, all the times I am so impatient and selfish and honestly just mean. Those sins run like a movie reel through my head the rest of the day, the week, the month. The worst ones stick the longest, replay over and over and over again. The times I let them down. The times I was too busy to notice. The 100 times I picked up my phone instead of playing with them. The books I didn't read. The list goes on almost forever of things I have failed at and I'm probably adding to it as I write this (like the wrinkled laundry I am avoiding...). 

As we entered into Lent this week its absolutely a season of recognizing our sin. Repent and believe in the Gospel right? It's our yearly wake up call to recognize our sin. Yes. But it's something more than that and it took that outing with Bella combined with Xavier's reaction to Ash Wednesday Mass to get me to really see it this year...let me tell you about it... 

Xavier was crabby and tired and spent the first half of the Ash Wednesday Mass that started 15 minutes after his normal bed time saying (yelling) "I no want to go to church!" But then the priest marked his face with mud and the night started looking up. Those tired 3 year old eyes perked up and started taking it all in. Eyes sparkling when we get back to our pew, he proudly says to me, "I bad guy!" I chuckle and wish he wasn't so excited about this news, and then he says with a huge grin like he just caught me sneaking a cookie, "You bad guy too!" 

'He's not wrong', I'm thinking. That's actually pretty much the point, yes. He starts looking around and pointing out others with ashes on their faces and saying "He bad guy too!" He is thrilled, giddy even. And he is so right. We are all bad guys. We don't think like that often. When we tell the story we usually cast ourselves the good guy and make someone else out to be the bad guy. But we are all here on Ash Wednesday and all here at church on Sundays because we know we are bad. We sin. We fail. At everything. All the time. But I forget it. Sometimes I know I'm the bad guy and I'm sure I'm worse than anyone else in the room. They all seem pretty good and perfect even. Sometimes, I see my own sin but I don't see theirs, and I sometimes forget I am sitting shoulder to shoulder with other "bad guys", with other people who have also failed. Its the beauty of Ash Wednesday, for just one day, we can see it, we stop hiding our failures and we wear them on our face.

I kind of wish we could wear them all the time, just to set the record straight. So that someone might not see me out with my daughter at a restaurant and crown me mom of the year. If I was wearing those ashes then they could see what I see when I look in the mirror. And I was thinking of this as Bella and I walked out of the restaurant and I wished I could actually be that mom that man thinks I am. 

And that's when I realized just what he said. "You don't know me from Adam." You don't get it, God was saying to me. You don't know me like you should because of sin. You don't know me. If you did, you would know I don't see you the way you see yourself. You would know I don't look at your sin. I see you the way that man did. Even though I know your worst, I still see your best. You are impressive and you make a Dad proud.

How long have I been forgetting the way my Father loves me? I see my sin but He sees the best in me. When I am covered in mud he sees beauty underneath. I can stack up my sins and failures for days and think that they cover up anything that might be good in me, and I forget that His blood covers my sins and He makes me new. I forget that it's the voice of the accuser who keeps calling me by my sins and telling me that my worth lies in my ability to overcome them and it's the voice of my father that says "you are good, you make a Dad proud." 

It's the season of Lent and that absolutely means it's time to recognize our sin and return to Jesus. It is absolutely the time to recognize that we are all bad guys. And it is most certainly time to see and remember that we were created, and still are, GOOD. Wanted. Loved. By the King of the Universe. If a hundred other voices are telling you something differently, I hope tonight you recognize they are not the voice of truth. I hope you will hear the Father saying you are good, and I hope you believe it tonight. I hope you make it to the confessional to let go of that sin that is making it hard to block out the lies. I hope you resolve to do what you can to avoid sin in the future knowing that only by handing it over to Jesus will you ever really win that battle, and I hope, I really hope you know... 

you make Him proud. 

The Time America Lost her Luggage

I remember the day a I heard a speaker share this quote from Maya Angelou:  

 “I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way (s)he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.” 

I've heard a lot of quotes over my life but this one stuck with me. I had never considered it before, that it mattered so much how someone handles something difficult. I suppose it's because I wanted to be judged on my best day and not my worst. I was sure the nice show I put on for the world on a sunny day when everything was going my way was the sum total of who I was and the most important part. But then, I was a young 20-something when I heard this quote with a rose-colored vision of reality. But still, it seemed like good advice, and I remembered it. I'm a pretty optimistic person so I can find the blessing in a rainy day and curl up with a book or a movie or head right out and dance or jump in the puddles. I see tangled Christmas tree lights as good old fashioned puzzle and enjoy the challenge. I sized myself up and thought I must be a pretty good person. I haven't ever lost my luggage but I don't care much for clothes or material things, if I'm already on vacation I'm sure I wouldn't be bothered by that at all. I was quite pleased with my self-assessment of myself. And then... I lost my luggage. A bunch of times.

A week long trip to Texas for work and my boss convinced me to check my luggage, "it's easier" he said. If you've ever lost your luggage you know the feeling, you watch the conveyor belt growing more and more anxious with each passing bag, soon you're sure you're seeing the same ones go by. And then the belt stops and you know. But you search around the area anyway, and then the feeling of despair. My THINGS! I needed those! I have a business conference and I can't go in these sweatpants and tennis shoes I'm wearing! My makeup! My hair products! My swimsuit so I can relax in the hotel pool! My THINGS! 

Until this point I've been my "Minnesota-nice" self and have been allowing others to go first, saying excuse me, smiling at the cute elderly couple or the young family or the stranger who seems like they're having a bad day. Suddenly I care little about anyone else in the entire airport and only about retrieving back my things, my control, my plan for how this week was going to go. I learn the "drill" of making the report of missing luggage, get handed a nice little bag from the airline with a tshirt and a toothbrush and sent on my way. (Side bar: Dear Airline marketing department, don't put your logo on these tshirts next time. It's like a walking billboard that says "I'm wearing this tshirt because this airline lost my luggage. Choose to fly with someone else!" Every time I see it in my house it reminds me of the terrible experience and in case I forgot which airline... oh there, your name is right there on the tshirt so I won't forget.) Back on topic. I head back to the hotel and mope and worry. The airline doesn't even know where our luggage is or when we could, if ever, get it back. Multiple phone calls from the airport over the next two days and I couldn't enjoy or be very present at my trip until we finally got it back. The anxiety over this lost $50 worth of clothes consumed me. 

I have actually lost my luggage quite a few more times after this experience. I'm hardly a world traveler, just have terrible luck to the point that I will do pretty much anything to not have to check my luggage anymore. Pack for 7 days in a carry-on? You bet I can!

Anyway, I wish I could say I responded better the next time this happened but that would be a lie. It might have gotten worse each time because then I start to get the "why me's!?!" and can whine to everyone I meet because things always go wrong for me and the airline always looses my luggage! Waa waa....I mean, I know at least once I just broke down and cried about it. Another time I was so rude to the airline personnel, and at least once I remember sitting under an umbrella on a beach on a tropical island with a Mai Tai in front of me, everyone else is having a great time and I'm just stressed and angry about my lost luggage. 

You can sure tell a lot about me now right? Didn't quite stack up to that great person I thought I was when I was faced with losing my things, plans being changed. Didn't prioritize being kind, caring for others, never even crossed my mind to find the silver lining. So this is me. 

Obviously it wouldn't be fair to judge our whole total self and life on how we react to stressful situations like losing our luggage. You can be a great person 90 percent of the time, none of us our perfect. But I do think it helps us to look at the way we respond to those things to see our sin, the room we have to improve. Turns out I thought material things didn't matter to me because I'm not a shopper but I saw quickly I am too attached to "my" own things and my money as I didn't want to pay to replace them either.  I thought I was compassionate and put others first and I realized when life wasn't going my way I really only thought about myself.  

 Here's the grand point you've read so far to get to. I've been thinking all along that 2020 was the year America lost her luggage. We were cruising along, feeling like a pretty great country, who looked out for others, cared about people, met challenges head on and stood strong through them, and then last March....we lost our luggage. I think what was in the luggage was different for everyone. I think for some it is the fear of losing their own life, and for others its the fear of losing someone they love. I think for some it was the loss of normal living, common sense, life as we know it, truth, security, the list goes on. There are probably a million other things we could insert in here. But you know it, when you look around. Not everyone has responded this way, but as a whole country, I think it's safe to say that pretty much overnight we quit caring about people and we saw just how selfish we are. Ministries that have served people for decades closed their doors. Services for our disabled adults and children disappeared and many still are not being offered. Vulnerable children? No time to think about them when we're trying to protect ourselves. Are there a lot of people out there who did a bunch of super-star things over the last year to reach out to others? Absolutely. There are some people who really shine when luggage is lost. But are there a vast majority of us that have gotten to see just how selfish we are? Yes.

Did you know children in foster care didn't get to have visits with their birth parents for MONTHS during the pandemic last spring? You probably didn't, and you probably do care, but we're all so worried about other things you won't notice that. Did you know every person from my friends' AA/NA class relapsed during the pandemic because of their loss of jobs and support? No one rarely wants to talk about the opiod crisis but we definitely are pretending that's not a thing right now. Did you know that children who are developmentally disabled or delayed under the age of 3 have not received anything other than "zoom" visits from providers since the pandemic started last year? We say they'll be fine, but its just the most important developmental years they never get back. Did you know Unicef estimates "an additional 6.7 million children under the age of five are in danger of starving because of the socio-economic impact of the COVID-19 pandemic? No, we can't possibly care about or do anything about that when we are unsure what the future holds for our own family now. And then, there are all those severed friendships, relationships of people we love, but the pandemic exposed a deep disagreement and it's caused the relationship to fall apart. 

As a community, when we had a sunny day, when things were going well, we put all these things in place to care for the vulnerable members of our society. All these rules and laws and ministries to look out for people, to help them, to give them what they need so they can have the best chance possible to succeed. When things are going well, we are a good friend, a good person. But then, we lost our luggage. And we didn't care anymore. And no one else cared either. And everyone's still getting paid so doesn't really matter how hard we try right? And people are just going to be mad so we just have to let them go their own way right?

This is negative guys, and I know, trust me I know the world is FULL of amazing people who are doing a great job looking out for others. But some of us, especially me, could do a little examining of our hearts. We are good people here in America, I still believe that. But we aren't handling this well at all and it should tell us something important about ourselves that we need to address. This is why God has brought us to this moment in time, I believe. Why are we so worried about what's in that suitcase? Don't we know we don't really need anything in there? The things we hold so dear, our plans, our goals, our dreams, our reputation, the people we love, our life, the lives of our children even, they will all pass away. None of it is lasting and no amount of holding it close to us will give us any more control over how long we get to keep any of it. But worrying about it will steal away everything from us. Can we stop for a second and look up and see there is a beach and sunshine here? If we could just let go of that baggage we're so obsessed with, maybe we could see the people and blessings He's putting right in front of us. Maybe that airport clerk or that disagreeable person in your office need you to see that they're having a bad day and bring them the hope they cannot find. Maybe that elderly neighbor needs your visit more than they need to be "safe". Maybe our children need to be prioritized again, because a nation that prioritizes her children will have a bright future. Maybe there is beauty here, in the hot, stinky airport even. I mean, now that your hands are empty, you could hold the door for that cute elderly couple or carry a bag for that family with their hands full. Now that you don't have any luggage to worry about you could walk to the hotel and enjoy the sunshine, maybe not even go up to the room, just head straight to the beach, kick off your shoes and go barefoot. Maybe luggage is over-rated. Maybe you don't need that luggage after all. 

Thank you Jesus, for letting us lose our luggage and exposing our great room for improvement. Help us to let it all go, and start doing what's right, not what the world says is right, but what we know in our hearts is right. Help us find the truth. That the joy is not in the luggage. The joy is in the journey. And all that really matters is that the journey leads us to You.