Author Archives: Lisa Lewton

Basic Training for Moms

After ten weeks at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, our son completed basic training for the Army National Guard. When exactly did this milestone occur? I don’t know. This is one of my basic training learnings.

#1) You do not get to know when things happen. For example, he arrived at the base the same day he left the airport back in February. But when did ten weeks of basic training begin? One week later? Two weeks later? Somewhere in between? Because the start date was a mystery, so was the end date. One Sunday in April, he told us without fanfare, “We finished basic training.”

#2) The sequel to basic training is Advanced Individual Training (AIT). When AIT occurs at the same base, units might move directly from basic into AIT with graduation at the very end. This is our son’s situation and why the conclusion of basic training was literally nothing to write home about.

#3) There is an acronym for everything. When a sweet veteran at church asks how our son is doing, I am thankful he remembers the acronyms so he can tell me what he is doing! It’s really an IYKYK situation.

#4) When you miss your kiddo and want to write him a letter because you have only a few minutes with him on the phone most Sundays, you need to think carefully. Each piece of mail will cost him 25 push-ups. Not a big deal until the one day he received not one, not five, but nine letters! This kid rocks at push-ups. But for the record, I could do a longer plank than him back in 2016. We will not rematch.

#5) When basic began, so did the end of knowing what my kid was doing much of the day. So did checking in with him now and then. It was like pre-cell phone days! We parent with devices that allow quick visits and location sharing. It’s easy to forget it was not long ago that kids drove away to college with very little access to communication. I miss checking in with him, and I also appreciate the reminder that he is his own person and so am I. Devices can blur those lines.

“This is like basic training for parents,” my husband said a couple months ago. Yep, we are learning the basics: knowing less about his life, trusting elders for wisdom, keeping myself in check when I want to reach out. As long as there are no push-ups, I think I’ll be ok.

Photo by Gabriella Clare Marino on Unsplash

Faith and Online Shopping

Over the weekend, with a gallon of paint and some help from Amazon, I updated one of my kiddos’ bedrooms. It had been a while. A bright orange wall is cool when you’re five, but ten years later it’s just obnoxious.

I had so much fun! I gave this kiddo four color options, washed an absurd amount of laundry in order to actually get to each wall, and listened to the Twins win while feeling quite victorious myself.

Bedroom updates are a quick click away with two-day-ish delivery in these parts of the world. And quick is ideal. We are busy people, shuffling from one busy day to the next. Who has time to go into a store and touch the fabric and look closely at the colors? Who has time to read a care tag to see where the item was made and look into whether the human beings making the item were treated fairly? Why bother when Amazon is so quick?

I questioned my own Amazon usage while listening to a Tsh Oxenreider podcast episode called “Making Things.” She makes a great argument for the importance of creating rather than going into autopilot and buying something new, even though it’s faster.

She also said something that was common practice perhaps before online shopping: When something breaks, try to fix it instead of immediately replacing it. I remembered this when the end of my old, small Pampered Chef spatula kept sliding off yesterday. “I’ll buy a new one,” I said to Marcus. “Or you could just glue it,” he suggested. He hadn’t even listened to the podcast! Anointed with super glue, the broken spatula has been made whole again, which required less time than scrolling and clicking.

The book “Being Consumed: Economics and Christian Desire” also has me reflecting on my online shopping practices. Quick clicks often leave no time to consider whose hands did the work of creating. Were those hands treated well? Were they hands that belong to a child? What was the cost of my quick (often cheap) click?

I appreciate the efficiency of online shopping, as well as the variety. I do not want to live without it.

This would take time, but what if shopping also became a way to practice your faith?

  • Pray for the creators of what you wear and use.
  • Dig deeper for more ethical or fair trade options.

These ideas require slowing down, an un-American suggestion. And these ideas might limit your options, also un-American. However, you might remember there is a human being on the other end of each and every thing you consume, and God has an opinion about that.

Before I rushed ahead and ordered cool wall hangings for my kid’s room, I realized I was carelessly clicking. Chances are I could make something cheaper, although probably not as cool. I would just need to slow down and think about it first, which I am.

Photo by Firmbee.com on Unsplash

Prayer is Like: Do You See It?

Prayer is sitting with God to listen to God ask: “Do you see it?”

Prayer is taking your foot off the accelerator and sitting down without a device. It is sitting down with nothing else to do after deciding prayer is more important. Prayer is looking at your life with God in a way you cannot look with your own limited vision. You see only so far. God widens your view.

Prayer is sitting beside God to peer at the broad landscape of your life. “Do you see it?” God asks you, pointing over there.

“No,” you reply, because seeing life as God sees it is a lot to ask of you.

“Okay,” God tries again. “Look over here. Do you see it?”

You look again. You see something, maybe.

“Now look here,” God invites.

“Oh.”

“And here.”

“Yes. I see it.”

And then you let go of what you thought was your limited little life. You start the day over. God helped you see that starting over is always an option.

You saw where God pointed, which helped you realize God is in the lead and you can relinquish some control, maybe. God pointed to hope, which you had left behind. God pointed to a promise that nothing separates you from God’s love. You had forgotten.

Prayer is sitting beside God, looking in the direction God is pointing. What might you do next? What needs letting go?

“Look,” God points for you. “Do you see it?”

Photo by Sam Headland on Unsplash

“Help is the Sunny Side of Control.”

Thank you and no thank you, Anne Lamott, for calling me out! I prefer to think my helpfulness is just that, helpful. Life is easier if I press on and offer myself up as the doer; to step into this project and that one and attempt to make other people’s lives a tad easier.

For example: I’ve gotten in the habit of making my daughter’s smoothie in the morning, although she is more than capable of pouring milk and fruit into a blender. I rationalize that my making the smoothie might be the only way she actually consumes fruit. Now she seems to believe it, too.

“Help is the sunny side of control.”

In the Lutheran faith, a sermon is a proclamation of both law and Gospel. The law is meant to set us straight, and the Gospel is meant to set us free from trying to fulfill the law without relying on Christ.

“Help is the sunny side of control” is a sermon composed of both law and Gospel. Sure, we are to be helpers, to be servants of Christ in our home, work and neighborhood. This is God’s law. Also, we are to trust Christ’s hand in the helping. We need not do all the helping on our own. That is the Gospel – Christ is here.

In other words, we can help prep the smoothie ingredients and let the kid do the blending and then consume the fruit. The downside is that I cannot sneak in chia seeds and protein powder. But truth is, not everything hinges on the helpers. That is the Son-ny side of life with Christ. We listen and follow. We lead once in a while, but mostly we entrust our lives to the helpful guide.

Setting aside control, we lead with gentleness, an even more helpful way of living, particularly for the people around us.

Photo by Arvid Skywalker on Unsplash

The Best Things in Life Are Free Croutons

I have found the new love of my life and its name is Croutons.

Long ago, I met Fake-Croutons at the bar, the salad bar, of course! They were tiny blocks I’m told had once been bread. We were not meant to be. They were too crunchy and made it a job to enjoy a salad. Goodbye, Fake-Croutons.

Then Croutons came along. My husband (the actual love of my life) has become a sourdough bread baker. He has become quite good at this craft, but even so we cannot eat all the bread, which turns out to be the best thing ever. I made my first batch of Croutons earlier this week. What’s not to love when you roll stale bread around in oil and seasoning? Bread, oil, salt, pepper, a dash of Italian Seasoning and there you have it. Love.

“The best things in life are free,” wrote Buddy DeSylva and Lew Brown back in 1927. Right now, one of the best delights in my life are these silly croutons. They took zero money and no more effort than slicing up and baking bread I didn’t know what to do with anyway.

There is an abundance of complicated factors in your life today. Relationships, work, your health, your family member’s health…What might happen if you look around your kitchen, your living room, your backyard, or your nearest park to find something simple and free like the new love of my life?

This verse has been rolling around in my brain, like breadcrumbs in oil. 

"The Lord will guide you continually, 
and satisfy your needs in parched places, 
and make your bones strong; 
and you shall be like a watered garden, 
like a spring of water, 
whose waters never fail." 
Isaiah 58:11


What you need, the Lord prescribes in this verse, is water. How simple. How free. All you need is water, a restoring powerhouse that for most of us is as easy as turning a faucet, which happens to be as easy as making your own croutons.

God desires meet you in the simplest of ways: water, bread, breath, the words in a very old book. Find your Crouton and smile.

Photo by No Revisions on Unsplash

Hidden Baskets, Hidden God

At our house on Holy Saturday, Easter baskets are hidden. With enough activity on Sunday, we do the fun stuff on Easter Eve. This year, Sam’s basket is hiding safely in his clean laundry basket. When he finds it, both the basket and how often he puts away his clean clothes will be revealed.

Faithful to family tradition, I try to make finding the treasure of an Easter basket challenging. Who doesn’t, you might be thinking. But I am not referring to an ordinary level of challenging. I am speaking of a Grandma Florence level of challenging!

I have two distinct memories of desperate searches for my chocolate and real dyed-eggs-filled Easter basket at her tiny house, a house that magically expanded to fit all of the people during the holidays.

Once, my basket was expertly tucked into the large pouch of her walker. This meant my basket had moved around as I wildly hunted for it. Try to accuse grandma of cheating and I assure you it would not have gone well.

And the other one, well, although all childhood memories are suspect, I think this one is spot on. After a very long search, eight-year-old or so me begged my grandma for a single hint. “No hints,” she replied. More searching. Finally, she relented. I was allowed to pick up the landline phone and call my cousin at her house, who was a co-conspirator in the hiding. “One hint, please!” I begged. Eventually, I discovered the basket in her dishwasher, which was never ever used as a dishwasher. In the millions of visits to her house, I didn’t even realize the thing opened.

Who decided to hide Easter baskets? Luckily, we do not do the same at Christmas! It would be fitting if Easter basket hiding could be traced back to the hiding God on Holy Saturday.

God is hidden on this day sandwiched between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Jesus Christ, who was fully God and fully human, lay in a grave fully dead on this Holy Saturday. Last night in our congregation, a man sang “it is finished” in “Go to Dark Gethsemane” as a door slammed and the finality of Jesus’ life hung in the air, along with the smells of frankincense and myrrh.

It is finished. God has gone into hiding.

Luther described God as a God who went into hiding. For those interested in a theological rabbit hole (you know who you are!) here it is: Luther on the Hidden God, by Steven D. Paulson.

God went into hiding in the Garden of Eden and ever since, God has played hide-and-seek by showing up exactly where we are not looking. Do you think God is found in success and all the good things that happen in our lives. Nope. God is found in the hardship of the cross, in the agony of death, in the sorrow of our lives. Sure, God enjoys the good times, too, but God is more likely to be found where we are not looking.

The women did not go looking for God on the morning we now call Easter Sunday, but God is exactly who they found at the grave. This God is found where we may not seek: in hospital rooms, beside those celebrating Easter alone and far from home, in prisons, in homeless shelters, in Haiti, Gaza, and Ukraine.

God is found where we generally do not seek…which might also be true in Sam’s search for his Easter basket. “No hints.”

Photo by Alan Rodriguez on Unsplash

What is Good?

Today we recall the crucifixion of Jesus and call it Good Friday. What is good in this gruesome story? What is good about a death?

The good is this: There is no simple explanation for the death of God on the cross, but Love.

Here is what I mean. There is no uncomplicating the tangled up, prickly yet tender love of God. The unavoidable fact of Good Friday is that God had a rebellion on God’s hands, a rebellion against grace. God died for the rebels, died so that grace would be the last one standing in the rebellion.

There are many goofy theories around Good Friday which can all be confirmed on the internet. I just re-read the novel “Gilead.” Set in the 1950’s, the pastor noted how 40 years of ministry with a congregation can quickly be undone by one television preacher. And then, there is the internet!

  1. Atonement – This is the notion that Jesus had to die to satisfy God’s anger over our sins. Humanity was so terrible, according to this theory, and God was so mad about it, that the only way to avoid God’s wrath was to put Jesus to death, as though there was a deal between the Father and the Son. This is a trinitarian disaster.
  2. Substitution – This theory suggests Jesus stood in for us on the cross; although we are the sinners, Jesus took the nails for us. This wrathful view of God does not line up with the Gospels for sure, or with the God we meet in most of the Hebrew Scriptures. The God we meet there kept rescuing God’s people.

I suspect television/internet preachers are attracted to these kinds of simple answers to Jesus’ death. It is good, they might suggest, to make sense of the cross.

If only love were so simple.

Bring to mind a person or place or something you deeply love. Or recall a moment when you felt an overwhelming sense of love.

Was it witnessing a gorgeous act of creation – an unforgettable sunset, the Northern Lights, a stunning view of the ocean. Or the birth of a child, the wedding of a granddaughter, the last goodbye to your loved one who was dying. How do you squeeze any of those moments into words? You cannot. The grandeur of love, deep and sweeping love, defies description.

What is good on this Good Friday? The good is the inexplicable love of God for you. The good is Christ, delivering you on the cross from death as the end, who had more mercy for sinners than the world (our world) could handle. The good is God, who met our resistance to grace by embodying it. The good is God, whose love is good and whose grace is good.

Photo by Alicia Quan on Unsplash

Easter Gathering

Are you ready? The time is near. Soon, you may be seated at a table beside the very family member you have been avoiding! Holiday gatherings can be tricky, don’t you think?

It is completely normal to feel some angst before a family gathering. Each and every family has its own history of not-so-beautiful moments. There are encounters we would do differently a second time around, or old grudges we cannot seem to let go.

This year, your table might be missing the matriarch who helped keep the peace, or the old uncle who made everyone laugh. What do these missing pieces mean for your gathering?

Instead of dreading the family gathering, let’s reframe it.

It is important to remember that every relationship is based on two parts. You are one part and your family is the other. Or maybe there is one family member in particular who drives you nuts, in which case, you are one part and the drive-you-nuts person is the other. Remember, your functioning also shapes the relationship. Blaming the other person for being annoying is unhelpful.

For example, you might be praying not to be seated beside that family member who knows everything about everything, who would spend hours (days?) imparting all her knowledge. Instead of avoiding this person, ask yourself this:

  • Why does it bug you so much?
  • What is it about this person that brings out an annoyed side of you?
  • Could you try to care less, or stay more neutral through the one-sided conversation?

Do you see? It isn’t only the other person’s functioning, but also your reaction that impacts the relationship. Two parts make a relationship.

Instead of moving right to annoyed, see if you there is something you might actually learn from this “knowledgeable” dinner partner. Can you find one interesting tidbit, or appreciate the person’s passion for that one certain subject? Pretend you are a news reporter and contribute a few questions to the conversation. If you seem interested, people think you are.

Are you ready? Yes, you are. May the food and the company surprise you with goodness.

Photo by Stella de Smit on Unsplash

Follow Directions

Last week, Marcus taught Sam how to grill hamburgers. One step at a time, he guided Sam through the directions. It reminded me of the famous hamburger helper story in my family. I was the same age as Sam when one day I was asked to make dinner. It was the worst hamburger helper in the history of hamburger helper.

What could be hard about making hamburger helper, you wonder? Fair question. This dish involves only a few easy directions.

Nothing is hard about making hamburger helper, in fact.

What is hard is eating hamburger helper when the cook forgot one important direction: add water.

Directions matter.

The Palm Sunday reading for Sunday is from Mark 11:1-11. The story of Jesus’ procession into Jerusalem is told in each of the four gospels. Matthew’s gospel specifies both a colt and a donkey carrying Jesus. What? I don’t understand, either. Luke’s version leaves out the palms. John’s version is the shortest, barely mentioning the donkey’s colt. (Is that what Matthew meant? Who knows.)

And then there is Mark. Mark is the earliest of the gospels and typically the shortest. But this story is an exception. John’s gospel wins the most abbreviated storytelling award, while Mark slows everything down in Chapter 11.

In painstaking detail, the writer draws our attention to the directions. Jesus gives two of his disciples these (unusual to Mark) detailed instructions:

  1. Go to the village
  2. Find a colt that has never been ridden.
  3. Untie the colt.
  4. “Bring it.” This is hilarious to me. The other gospels finish the sentence, “Bring it to me.” But here in Mark’s gospel, Mark reverts to his hurried writing and doesn’t even finish Jesus’ sentence! I love it.
  5. Explain to anyone around that Jesus needs the colt and will bring it back.

The latter part of Step Five is the thread I’m pulling for the sermon on Sunday.

Aren’t these directions remarkable! For a gospel writer whose most worn-out word is “immediately,” these are thorough instructions.

Digging around in the Scriptures, you find a treasure trove of directions.

  • Eat, drink and be merry.
  • Welcome the stranger.
  • Remember the Sabbath.
  • Love the Lord your God.
  • Love your neighbor as yourself.

And on and on and on. But the directions for the two disciples – how to acquire the colt for Jesus: “bring it.”

Directions matter. The colt made the point that Jesus was a strange sort of royalty. He was a king born in a manger whose baby gifts were essentially burial anointments. This is no ordinary king, proven by the donkey colt who served as lowly transportation. Kings rode regal horses, not donkeys.

The two disciples nailed the directions. They could have been in charge of the hamburger helper and we would have all eaten better that night. Leading up to the procession, had they left out any one of the instructions, the story would be different. Had they not untied the colt, for example, or not explained themselves to bystanders. This may have been a different story.

What does it mean that Mark puts Chapter 11:1-11 into slow motion? What might God stir up in you if you take your time through these verses? (Those are your directions. Oh, and remember your baptism – add water.)

Are You Peculiar Enough?

In his book, “Think Again: The Power of Knowing What You Don’t Know,” Adam Grant encourages readers to “be peculiar.” This idea sticks with me. Peculiar is a way of being completely and entirely your own self. If indeed you are peculiar, you are unlike anyone you have ever met.

Raising an almost teenage daughter, I know peculiar is a hard sell. Peculiar stands out when there are so many more comfortable ways to try to fit in. (How many Stanley water cups exist in a middle or high school? You won’t believe it.)

Peculiar is a synonym for weird, but it is also a synonym for unique. Peculiar is a word insists the Creator has enough creativity to mold each individual person differently, even peculiarly.

Grant’s encouragement is on my mind as we make our way toward Palm Sunday and Holy Week. Jesus models peculiar in the way he parades into Jerusalem, in the way he cares for people who otherwise go unnoticed, in the way he serves his students, in the way God’s gentle love is pronounced in gruesome fashion. It is a peculiar story of peculiar mercy.

Squint your eyes a bit and you might see your own life differently. Are you following this peculiar God’s peculiar ways?

  • Are you living to fit in? Or are you willing to be peculiar with this unique life God created in you?
  • Are you buying what is trending? Or are you using money more peculiarly by buying only what you need?
  • Are you peculiarly aware that this life is a precious gift, that death is not the end, that money does not solve problems, that forgiveness changes people, that God loves a world even as messy as this one?

Please. Be peculiar in word and deed, in what you love and who you follow.