Lent

We are all so busy. It seems like it is a contest to see who is the busiest. We work and we clean and we cook. We feed the dog and the cats and the hamster and the chickens and the kids, hopefully not in that order. We volunteer and we go to church, school conferences, theater practice, 4-H, piano lessons, cello lessons, french horn lessons, science fair, history fair, e-team, math counts, acolyte, AV helper, youth group, kids' club and youth ensemble. Next week we start it all again, most of it the same, some of it different, but it all adds up to a lot. Some people have two jobs, some work three. Some go to school and work and volunteer and do all of the rest. We as a culture just can't say, "Stop". Our self image, our sense of importance is wrapped up in being busy. People are impressed if we are really, really busy. People talk about how busy they are, how much they get done, as if there is a big tally sheet in the sky with a running total for all to see and compete.

Lent is a time to say, "Stop". Being so busy, even if it is helping our kids and spouse, if we really exam it, is about us. We are the hero in our own movie. The movie called SuperMom or SuperDad or Superprovider or whatever we are trying to prove. We can't stop everything, but we can slow down. There are things in our lives that are big time-wasters. Watching television, surfing the internet, talking on the phone, shopping just for stuff. If we eliminate some of those, or a few of those, or one of those, we might have time for something more important.

Sure we need to shop for food, but what if we fasted from Wal-Mart and Target for Lent. What if we made ourselves slow down enough to read to our children every single night of Lent. (Reading aloud to children until they are about 10 years old is the single most important thing a parent can do to improve a child's academic success. Fancy videos and computer games can not give your children what reading aloud can, time with you.) There are great books for reading out loud, books the whole family will like. (The teens will roll their eyes but they can't help it. It's a teen condition. Just keep reading. They like it too.) What if everyone sat together to eat with the TV turned off, a couple times a week. It doesn't have to be a Norman Rockwell dinner. Grilled cheese together is better than Osso Buco with the family dispersed.

Lent is traditionally a time to simplify life, to make sacrifices and to take on a beneficial habit. Being with your children has to fall into that category; give up CSI Criminal Intent, take on an out loud reading of Charlotte's Web. They won't be little long. There will be time later to be super human. When your children are little and at home that is the time to be a mere mortal and to be proud that you have the time to read, to snuggle, to listen to long, long stories which have no point. You won't win the "I am the Busiest Person on the Planet" award, but you and your children will be the better for it. Everyone else will be too busy boasting about at their own score to even notice.

We are to love our children as God, the father, loves us, with sacrificial love. We, as parents, may have to give up our image of ourselves as doers in order to provide the love and care our children need and want. After all, I don't think God ever said," I'm busy running the universe here, I don't really have time for you right now." We don't want to send that message to our kids.

Have a simple Lent,

Michelle

Jesus and the Super Bowl

It is Super Bowl Sunday. In a few hours I will be hosting a Super Bowl party even though I didn't know that the cardinals were from Arizona until today. (For some reason I thought they were from St. Louis. Wrong sport, evidently). The party I am hosting is for the youth group. I expect thirty teenagers to arrive a little before six and not leave until some time around ten. That's a lot of football.

Since I don't care one bit about the outcome of the game; I can't name one single player; and when I was buying decorations, I had to go with generic football green because I don't even know the team colors, one might ask, "Why host a party"? Why not , say, go to the library instead, maybe do some laundry, prepare my taxes, anything more interesting than watching five hours of football. The simple answer is, I was pretty much told to have the party. When i mentioned it to the kids they were excited. Evidently, it is a youth group tradition.

I am having the party because the kids love it. More kids will come to this event than any other this year, aside from a lock-in. Where is Jesus in this event? We will pray before we eat, but only a third, at best, will be paying attention. There will not be any exegesis on the bible nor will there be an evangelism message at half time. (We are doing youth group stupid human tricks at half time. One girl can make her tongue look like a "W", another can twist her arm around like a broken Barbie and I'm sure we will have the Nazi muffin joke ...again, but we laugh at it every time).

What there will be is another step toward community. There will be a step toward kindness and friendship. A step towards acceptance. Jesus didn't just preach to his disciples. He was with them day and night for three years. There isn't a substitute for time spent together. It builds a bond of trust. Incrementally, the kids learn to trust the people who care enough to spend time with them, doing the things that kids want to do, listening to jokes, eating hot dogs and chips, hanging out and watching lousy football.

So I will watch the game and eat the junk food and laugh at the silly jokes not because I love football, not because I even like football, but because I love the kids and it's good to hang out with them.

Go team!

Michelle