Prepared Enough

There are ten bridesmaids in the parable in Matthew 25:1-13. Five are called wise and the other five foolish. Late into the night of the wedding, all ten are waiting to meet the bridegroom. Where is the bride? We have no idea, which is a hint that the parable is not a true story. In a true story, the bride is somewhere.

In this parable, the five bridesmaids are wise because they planned ahead, anticipating that the bridegroom would be late. They prepared by bringing extra oil for their oil lamps. The five foolish bridesmaids only brought what they expected they would need. They brought enough oil for a bridegroom who knew that 15 minutes early is on time and on time is late.

This dude was extremely late. Late. Late. Late.

All the bridesmaids took a nap while they waited. When someone shouted that the bridegroom was on his way, the five foolish bridesmaids woke to realize the oil in their lamps were running out. They asked their wise friends for more oil, but they declined, sending the foolish out to find an lamp oil shop in the middle of the night.

Did you know there are podcasts for people who enjoy planning and planners? Entire podcasts giving tips on daily, monthly, quarterly, yearly planning, as well as highlighters, markers and pens. On Monday, I listened eagerly to a podcaster’s pen recommendations. Eagerly!

Planning, however, can pose a problem. If we are too eager to plan our days and lives, we cling to the oil in our own lamps. We cling to the routine, cling to the comfort, cling to our own plans and favorite pens.

The parable wakes me up to recognize life is not an adventure to be planned. When people arrive asking for oil, they are not a disruption but an unexpected part of the adventure. I like to think I would have been a wise bridesmaid in the story. But unlike the wise in the story, I would have shared my oil and not sent the others out into the night to pointlessly look for a 24-hour lamp oil shop.

Blessed are those who plan without growing too attached to their plans. And blessed are those whose plans include a radiant response to the unexpected.

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Resting or Distracting: You Need to Know the Difference

Checking out is not the same as resting. Scrolling or gaming on a phone is not resting. Watching a sports game (unless it is golf or baseball) is not resting. Baking is not resting even though your dough is resting. Scrolling, watching sports, and baking are means to distract ourselves. These activities do not count as rest.

Ever since I listened to a podcast episode called “Work Harder at Resting”, I have wondered the difference between rest and distraction.

  • Rest loosens your muscles and your tight grip on life. Distraction is avoidance.
  • Rest is a commitment to accomplish nothing for a period of time. Distraction is cheap entertainment.
  • Rest leaves you feeling content; you are glad you took time to do that. Distraction leaves you feeling hustled; the time you had to rest is now gone.

With phones constantly in reach, distraction is our default. Rest, on the other hand, is a protest against the flimsy offerings of distraction. Rest is a bold statement of trust in the God who offers the gift of rest.

“…we are situated on the receiving end of the gifts of God. To be so situated is a staggering option, because we are accustomed to being on the initiated end of all things. We expect nor even want a gift to be given, so inured are we to accomplishing and achieving and possessing. Thus I have come to think that the fourth commandment on sabbath is the most difficult and most urgent of the commandments in our society…”

“sabbath as resistance: Saying NO to the CULTURE OF NOW” by Walter Brueggemann, p. xiv

Rest requires a particular posture: open hands and open heart. How can God fill you with rest if you fill your minutes with distractions? How can God open your eyes to the landscape of God’s love if your eyes are on a screen? How can God open your heart if your heart is occupied with love for your distractions?

Today, how will you rest? Set a timer for 5 minutes and sit still by yourself, listening for God’s whispers. Read a psalm not to learn but simply to absorb the words. Download my favorite devotional app, Pray as you Go, and take a walk. When you reach for your phone, fold your hands and take three deep breaths.

“O God, you are my God, I seek you, my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” Psalm 63:1

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Your Life as a Roadmap

A roadmap shows you the road to follow to get you from here to there. On some trips, you can choose between a scenic highway or faster interstate. On other trips, there is but one possible route.

If you have no idea where you want to go, that is, if you know the here but not the there, a roadmap can still be helpful. I can’t remember who told me their family vacations begin without a destination in mind. The family gets into the car and from the backseat the kids decide, “Which way, right or left?” until they find a place to stop!

I prefer plan – a designated route from here to there. But again, as I remember throughout these weeks of Lent, I am not in charge. The Lenten story will end exactly where I wish it would not, year after year. The destination of Lent is a deadly cross before an empty grave. In the Christian faith, there is no other route on the map but the one from death to life.

The roadmap of your life otherwise resembles leaving the kids in charge. Right or left? Who knows what you might see or learn, which roads will be closed or which will surprise you with beauty. What will you notice about people and poverty and privilege? How will you be awakened to our work as Christians in a world God loves?

We can follow a map without knowing the way from here to there. It is a great relief not to be in charge of the world. We can be open to “right or left” as Christ guides us through the scenic route or faster interstate. The Holy Spirit is a great travel companion.

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How Lent is Like Bowling Bumpers

The inventor of the bumpers knew that bowling can be a spirit-crushing “leisure” activity. Filling the gutters with friendly bumpers makes the sport more fun for new bowlers while building confidence instead of crushing their spirits. The bumpers serve as an impenetrable boundary.

Because of the Lenten devotional “Bitter and Sweet: A Journey into Easter” by Tsh Oxenreider, boundaries have been on my mind. Lent calls us to pay attention to our boundaries and make more room for a life filled with Christ.

  • What boundaries do you set around your own time to rest? Rest is not the same as distractedly scrolling or taking an intense vacation. Rest means to accomplish nothing.
  • What boundaries do you set around communication with co-workers? Can people contact you whenever a question or idea floats through their brain, or only at certain times of the day when you, too, are in work mode?
  • What boundaries do you set around your kids to keep yourself from getting in the way of hard things they can do without your help? Do you let their responsibilities be their responsibilities, or do you keep overstepping because it’s just easier to do it yourself?
  • What boundaries do you set around your daily schedule to prioritize what you know you need to do in a day? Do you allow other people’s plans for your time to take over?

Boundaries are complicated. There is emotion involved.

Earlier this week, I let a meeting go too long and was one of the last moms to pick up my daughter at school. It was cold outside. She was dressed for winter and fine, but I felt horrible. I had ignored a boundary in my schedule and oh the mom guilt!

Lent can be an intentional time to slow down and notice boundaries. Most of the time, the people in your life want you to be well and that works best when you honestly communicate the boundaries you need. Use these remaining weeks of Lent to practice.

What bumpers can you place in your life to keep you focused on Jesus? How can a renewed sense of boundaries in a particular area of your life build your confidence, like a new bowler relying on the bumpers?

Unlike the bowling alley’s bumpers, your bumpers are not impenetrable. You will make mistakes as you practice setting boundaries. Fortunately for me, 10-year olds are eventually forgiving! And the pins are reset and we begin again.

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The Laborers’ Mistake

The parable of the laborers would have ended differently had the laborers kept their eyes on their own paychecks.

In Matthew 20:1-16, Jesus tells a tale of a vineyard landowner who hired laborers early one morning after agreeing to pay them the usual daily wage. Off to work they went.

Oddly, the landowner went on to hire more workers throughout the day. When he handed out paychecks at the end of the day, we learn he was less concerned about profit and more concerned about putting people to work. Understandably, the early risers expected a heftier paycheck than those who started at the end of the day.

That’s where the parable gets infuriating. The landowner paid all the workers, regardless of the number of hours they worked, the usual daily wage. Seeing everyone else’s daily wages, the early risers grumbled.

This parable is rich with conversation starters, but focus with me on only one: How does our understanding of what we already have change when we see what else we could have?

  • You have had your vehicle for a few years and it works just great. You are hoping to pay it off in the next year…until your neighbor buys a new car and suddenly you must replace your worn-out vehicle with a shinier one.
  • You decide to take a break from buying any new clothes for one whole month. And then you scroll through Instagram. And then the adorable new sweatshirt you ordered arrives on your doorstep!

The list could go on for me. The furniture is just fine, but then a Wayfair ad pops up. On Goodreads, I add more books to my want list instead of reading the books I already have.

The laborers agreed to the daily wage but grumbled when they saw what the landowner paid the others. And I get it. Not fair. Except…

What the early risers were paid was enough. It was the usual daily wage. It only became not enough when they took their eyes off their own paychecks.

Lent invites us to look at our own lives and see what we already have. Notice what is enough, recognize what is plenty. This is incredibly hard when you can have more with a “buy now” quick click. But what would happen if you chose not to buy it? Would you discover that what you have is already enough? What forgotten treasure might you find buried in a closet or dresser drawer?

When we look at our own lives and notice what we already have, the more we recognize the generosity of the landowner. Keeping our eyes on our own lives, the less we seem to want. Wanting less, the more we recognize what we already have, which is enough.

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Broken Streaks

Last week, streaks were broken. Wordle befuddled me. Broken streak. It was too dang cold to take a walk outside. Broken streak. I said no to workouts and yes to extra rest. Broken streak.

This week, our insurance company offered an app that adds to my list of potential streaks. If you opt in (I sure did) you can earn a discount on auto insurance. Cool. There are four drivers in my family. Someone says auto insurance discount and I say woohoo! Through my phone, the app tracks distracted driving. My streak is building. And…so is my pride.

Streaks do two things. Like a path, they keep us in line. A streak guides our time and choices, which can be a good thing. I want to drive without distraction and the streak number will encourage me. However, streaks can also encourage idolatry. Like all good things, streaks can be taken past the point of goodness. We become obsessed with them. As though a broken streak makes us a failure, we might rely on our streak to define our self-worth.

This week, I did a bit of starting over. Lent is a fitting season for starting over. You may know the word repentance, a word that gets more attention during Lent. Often, the word is used as instruction, as in, “Repent and stop the not-great thing you’re doing!” Lent begins with a long confession in which we promise to repent. And then we spend 40 days trying not to break the streak.

Despite our best work, streaks break. Life tumbles along and any impressive streak is breakable. Fixing the break means admitting the pride that grew along with the streak.

There is good news in the word repentance. Its literal meaning is “turn around”. To repent is to turn around. But there is more. I will be the first to admit my Biblical Greek is rusty, but I remember the word repentance is most often used in Scripture in a passive form. You do not turn around on your own. Instead, you are turned around. Who does the turning? Who else?

Throughout these 40 days, pride will swell, streaks will be broken, and Jesus will show up there. His streak of mercy is unending.

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Giving Up Christian Radio for Lent

This morning on the drive to school, my daughter and I turned the radio to a Christian station. We like some of the music and it is one of the few non-country stations in my corner of the world. In the 90’s, country music was awesome! Perhaps I’m getting old.

A moment after we started listening to the Christian station, I switched it off. As soon as the person giving the mini-sermon described “godless people” who are trying to raise kids without values, I turned to my daughter and explained that isn’t true. It is not true that parents who believe in God have better values than parents who do not. I did not add that there are plenty of Christian parents whose values I would question. Our commute is too short. And who am I to distinguish parents or anyone by their values?

It is a dangerous Christian faith that sets itself apart by speaking words of judgement. In an age when abuse in the church is finally being uncovered, the judgements related to values are also misplaced.

I am giving up Christian radio for Lent because I do not want to judge my neighbor by their values, but by their need. Where there is need, there is my neighbor whom I am called to love. Where there is any kind of human, “godless” or not, whatever that means, there is brokenness. Where there is mercy, there is Christ.

Where there is music, may you be moved to love your neighbor with the mercy of Christ.

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The Length of Lent

If you were to Google the family tree for the word “Lent”, you would discover that a distant relative of “Lent” is “long”. Lent is the 40-day long stretch between Ash Wednesday and Maundy Thursday, excluding Sundays because each Sunday is a mini-Easter Sunday.

The days can be long during Lent for anyone fasting from something you love. The days can be long yet the weeks can still go fast. You have heard that saying elsewhere; I first heard it as a Bible Camp counselor. The days were long because they were so full. And the weeks went fast.

Your day might be long for any number of reasons. It might be a long day because it is so full or so empty. The day could be long because you are waiting for someone to contact you or waiting for your body to heal.

Long days are not to be wished away. A day is a unique gift – a limited resource. There are only so many and no two are the same. Lent instructs you to lengthen the day to truly see it. Lent is the caution sign on the side of the road to slow you down so that you pay attention.

Try one of these Lenten practices to make your day long enough for you to pay attention.

  • When you talk to someone, notice the color of the person’s eyes. Remember that person, like you, has seen the world through a particular lens shaped by their own experiences. That person, like you, is a beloved child of God.
  • During a meal, notice the individual flavors in whatever you are eating. Can you taste a specific herb? Can you describe to yourself the texture? How many people did it take from start to finish for this food to be on your plate?
  • Take three slow, deep breaths.
  • If you are reading a book, slow down. Savor the words on the page. What a miracle it is to have the ability to read.
  • Set a timer for one minute and sit still. Let your muscles relax, your face included. Notice Jesus sitting beside you.

We are at the start of the 40-day long stretch of Lent. The days are long and yet the weeks go fast. Let Lent teach you something new, that has been there all along.

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It’s Too Cold for Ash Wednesday

In much of the upper Midwest, we may as well crawl into our deep freezers. This is ridiculous. It is so cold, ashes tossed into the crisp, fresh air will turn into icicles. It is too cold for Ash Wednesday.

There are other things to do than go to a church building to be smeared with ashes. It is too busy a time for Ash Wednesday.

It is an unpopular idea to remember our mortality, to name the false promises of our lives, and to admit we need help. It is too hard to face Ash Wednesday.

Yes, it is too cold, too busy, and too hard to face Ash Wednesday. However, there is something on your face that already has. The invisible reminder on your forehead is made visible in the smearing of ashes. Only on this day each year when you do the work of cleaning off the ashes can you see that Christ has already broken into our cold hearts, our busy schedules, and our hard and complicated lives.

Christ has left his mark of mercy on you.

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What Can and Cannot Be Replaced

At the turn of the century, Marcus and I chose dishes for our wedding registry. Fact Check: I chose dishes for our wedding registry! I had spent roughly 9 months working in the home department at Herberger’s in Moorhead a couple of years before when I was a junior at Moorhead State University. The same year I began learning Greek, I learned Pfaltzgraff patterns. Both were magical in their own way.

Pfaltzgraff patterns are mesmerizing – maybe even hypnotic! You focus on the pattern and begin to picture your life with these dishes. You imagine who will sit at a table with you and these dishes. You picture the beautiful food you will eat and imagine the rich stories you might share. In your hypnotic state, you dream of how much love be passed around the table among the perfect family you have just made up in your head.

The Rio pattern caught my attention back in 1998. It is pottery dinnerware, which seemed casual and also grown-up. Two shades of blue and cream color these heavier dishes. I didn’t realize they are heavier dishes.

The truth is Rio was not the best choice. The dinner dishes have not fit well in some of our dishwashers and a heavy plate is not ideal for little kids. They have been sturdy, however, which is ideal for little kids. Even so, Rio is being replaced.

With a gift St. John gave me for my 15-year anniversary, I bought new dishes. Again, I chose the dishes! Marcus will place delicious food on them. Our roles have become clearer in 21 years! But the hypnosis wore off long ago. The Rio dishes were not set before a perfect family. I can only guess that never once have we enjoyed a perfect meal without any spilling of milk or careless words. The family I dreamed up has never once shown up for dinner!

Instead, the table is where we gather as human beings who have often had a long day, a tough conversation or two, friendships that were strained, and problems that were hard.

As the Rio pattern is replaced, I now have a better, non-hypnotic picture of the family that will use the new dishes. It is not the same family I had imagined! The same is true for you. The people who show up in our lives are not the ones we imagined. We can pick (and replace) the dinnerware pattern but not the people. We can set the table but not the cast of characters.

Which means you, unlike your dishes, are simply not replaceable.

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