Remembering Dad September 29, 2008

Today, I saw my dad. You may not think that’s noteworthy until I tell you that my dad passed away in 2001. But today…well, here’s the story:

I was at Ukrops, a premiere grocery store in Richmond, Virginia. This full service grocery has the finest of foods, and the baggers not only take care to put frozen foods together and double bag meats, they also take the food to your car and load it in for you. Service. That’s what Ukrops is all about.
So, I dash in to pick up a special cake for my mom’s birthday. I grab a few other items, and then, as I rush to the checkout, I can see that the only place without a line is the self-checkout.
Truth be told, I rather enjoy checking myself out sometimes. I always secretly wanted to be a cashier at a grocery, but never made it past the bagging stage. So, this is my big moment. I make quick work of the checkout, and then load the items back into my cart.
The one drawback of self-checkout is that there is not a bagger, and so there is noone to help you to your car. So, I quickly push my cart out to the car, and unbuckle my daughter. As I’m pulling her out of the front basket, she loses a shoe. I am intently focused on getting the kids and the groceries into the car safely, and I do not even notice the loss. Until, that is, she yells, “Mommy! My soo, my soo!!” I take a moment to finish buckling her, then turn around to see a total stranger holding her little Nike Shock (yea, they are pretty sweet shoes) in his hand.
So, I thanked this kind gentleman, and took her shoe. Then he raised his brow, lowered his chin, grinned at me, and said through a thick beard of grey, “You need some help getting all of this into your car?”
Chivalry is not dead!
Some days, even though it’s been seven years, I’m certain that my father is also still here with me.
You see, after I turned the kind gentleman down (I’m a little proud, I know, but I’m not on bedrest yet!!), he nodded at me, smiled warmly, and then headed back to his car. I assumed he would be parked right next to me. Turns out he’d woven his way through several lanes to lend a helping hand, after hearing my daughter. And as he ambled back toward his own vehicle, I thought to myself, “That’s something my dad would do.”

I guess I should just admit it: I see my dad everywhere. It’s been seven years, but he still shows up. He shows up in the friendly offer of a stranger. I see him in my 4-year-old son’s tall tales, complete with exaggerated hand gestures and demonstrative facial expressions. He shows up in my husband, when Adam passes up new clothes so that our kids can have more. (Yes, for those of you who know Adam, he does sometimes do that. Now, shoes – he does not pass up. But that’s another blog…) My dad shows up in my friend Robin, who tips generously…for takeout.
2001 was a horrific year for so many in the states and beyond. My dad passed away very unexpectedly; it was about three months before the major losses of 9-11. As I saw so many Americans in fresh grief, there questions echoed in my own head. Will there come a day that I do not remember my loved one like I did when he was here in the flesh? I could understand their fear.
I can also say with certainty that it’s possible to replace worry about forgetting someone you love with a focus on recognizing their qualities in those around you. As I’ve done this, dad feels closer than ever.
So, thanks, Ukrops-man. I don’t know you, but you really touched me. And next time, I’m gonna let you put the groceries into my car – just so I can study you for a minute longer. Because you sure do remind me of someone special…my dad.

Creative tension and rubber bands September 27, 2008

This morning I was thinking about an innovation workshop I participated in a number of years ago. The facilitator used a great analogy – a rubber band – to show how tension works in the thought process.

He stretched the rubber band vertically, fingers looped through it, with one hand above the other. The lower loop, he said, was our current reality. The upper loop represented our desired outcome. He yanked the rubberband till it was taut. As the rubber band stretched to meet the demand of his pull, he described “creative tension.” Creative tension occurs when we must stretch in a new way to close the gap between our present reality and our dreams.

So, this morning I was wondering if I am fully stretched. Most days, I feel that I am in that mode. I notice that a lot of creative thinking happens and new thoughts are added to my idea tree on these days. Occasionally, however, I have the sort of day where I feel no stretch at all. I limply languish through, and very little that is bigger than me occurs in my life on days like this.

I’d like all of my days to be days of stretch. I guess I believe that those of us who follow Jesus ought to have that sort of day. As a pursuer of the way of Life, my current reality is never really what I desire as the outcome; I should always be bent toward growing more.

I’m wondering, do you feel creative tension most days? Do you think those of us who are running the race with our eyes set on His prize ought to feel it daily? And what do we make of the days where we don’t feel the tension and rise to it? Hmmm…

Almost to the river September 22, 2008

To keep this body going these day, the Doc has me walking.

Oh, man, I just re-read that statement and determined it sounds decisively geriatric. Just to clarify – I’m pregnant. Growing by the day. And my legs are protesting.

So, every day, I get to take a 30 minute walk. I’ve identified a favorite route to the river and back, which I can complete in about 30 minutes. If you’ve never been out to the river in the 7’s (o’clock, that is), you should totally do it – atleast once. The water meets the air, and there is this awesome haze that settles in the inbetween. It is fantastic.

Today, though, I didn’t start early enough. I realized as I rounded the bend to complete the first half of my walk that I would not make it back in time if I walked all the way to the river. So, I had to stop short. It was a little sad. I could see the river from afar, but I couldn’t study it as I do most mornings. I couldn’t really appreciate it the way I wanted to.

On the way back, I started talking to God about how I feel like that in life sometimes. Like I can see the end from a ways away, but never fully feel it. He was talking to me, too, about discipline. How if I started a few minutes earlier, I would have had the time to walk all the way to the river and appreciate it fully.

So, I guess I need to start earlier in the everyday pursuits of life. I need to begin when I know I should instead of when I feel pressed by a deadline. That kind of discipline insures a lengthy gaze at the full beauty of the journey along the way. No more stopping short…

The wrong place at the right time September 10, 2008

Last week, I was asked to speak at the Women’s Diversion Center (yes, that’s a type of prison, incase you were wondering, but diversion center has a much nicer ring to it, so let’s stay with that.) I was ready to speak, and as I pulled into the gravel lot, I felt a sense of being a part of something bigger. Since my home church relocated to our current location a number of years ago, we’ve all been talking about the “mission field across the street” (also code for jail). So, the vibe was good as the metal cla-clanged behind me back.

Then I started conversing with the guard, and things quickly went downhill. They had no record of the service I was scheduled to take part in. They had no knowledge of me; no paperwork, no background check (background check?!?!), and…worst of all…I was wearing “sleeveless attire” which is NOT permitted. So…basically, the guards (there were now two) were ready to send me and my pretty little Bible packing.

In my defense, I must remind you that I am almost 7 months pregnant. It is HOT in Richmond these days! I mean – like in the 90’s hot. I had on a very presentable outfit, in my opinion – dress slacks, flats, and…yes…a sleeveless shirt. But, not a racy tank top. No halters for this prego. Nothing like that. Just a modest top that came to the shoulder.

Before I could state my case about my advanced pregnant state and the need for a sleeveless shirt, I was jolted back to reality. The Lieutenant had been phoned. She wanted to speak with me. Bottom line, five minutes and a few tears later (did I mention I’m really pregnant?), I was NOT getting in. I’d used my best influencing skills, honed from years of work at a prominent financial instituton, but this Lieutenant just wasn’t buying. I know the difference between conditions and objections – and I couldn’t meet her conditions.

As 20 minutes had passed, I turned to leave. I thought of all the women who really needed to hear what I had to say – and then, a thought. I looked at the nicer of the guards and asked, “Could I be in the wrong place? This is the diversion center, right?’ And, alas…I was at the high security prison. That’s right…the diversion center was a mere 100 yards down the road. In my defense, it is NOT across the street from my home church, but thankfully it is close by.

Slightly embarassed and a little late, I arrived to give one of the best messages I’ve possibly ever given. Women gave up all sorts of labels, and found freedom. All because I found the diversion center. Well, I guess sometimes we can just be in the wrong place at the right time. And be a few minutes late to the right place. And still be used by God to make an impact. Lesson learned.

4 ways kids are like Peeps September 4, 2008

What is divine about this excerpt from Parenting magazine? Well – it made me laugh out loud. That is pretty divine these days. So, here it is:

4 ways kids are like Peeps:

1.) They’re sweet, though almost always a bit sticky.

2.) You can give them a little squeeze if they’re yours – but not if they’re a stranger’s.

3.) They’re a known cause of stubborn belly overhang.

4.) It can be hard to stop at one, but after two or three, the mere thought of having another may make you queasy.

-Deborah Skolnik