Last Minute Hero

 This is a picture of my three oldest about 4 years ago.

My three oldest kids go to classes at the Learning Center on Tuesdays.  They are often sent home with homework, (please, I'm a homeschooling mom, I don't DO homework) and we never get to it during the week.
Inevitably Tuesday morning at 8:30am when I say, "Kids, get your backpacks and get in the car", Hannah and Jack come up to me with a panicked look and say, "Mom, I have to do my homework".
So I decided to give them the responsibility.  "Kids, when you come home from the Learning Center on Tuesdays, we need to do your homework that night so we don't forget."
Last Tuesday Jackson came home, told me he had homework, and even prepped all the ingredients for me.  And I didn't do it with him.  Mom-fail.
So 8:30 rolled around this morning and with a trembling lip, Jack reminded me that he had homework.  He was supposed to make GACK.  If he shows up to the Learning Center without it, it's not a good thing.    And Jackson is such a people lover/pleaser that it breaks his 9 year old heart to not do what he is supposed to do.  Hannah is supposed to do it too, but she doesn't quite care as much as Jack.  She's got other goals.
So we crammed in the car with a bag of paper towels, a bowl, a measuring spoon, and some Borax.  We screeched into Vons, (Safeway) and purchased two bottles of glue, asked for some hot water from the Starbucks counter, and we sure mixed up a big bowl of GACK right on the sidewalk outside of Vons.  A mobile science lab, if you will.  I gave a brief speech about polymers, put the GACK into Ziploc baggies and my children were sent off to their classes prepared.  (you can Google GACK if you'd like to make your own)
The smiles on their faces, and especially the relief in Jack's,  was my highlight of the day.  We even made it on time!
HERO.  That's me.
Now if you will refer to my last posts...I am trying to get places on time....do things ahead of time...eliminate stress...and all that.   It was lucky we got there on time, but let's not focus on that.
Then later my battery died out side the gym, and again outside the grocery store, and after two battery jumps  I had to talk to the husband about spending money on a battery.  or an alternator.  So we have to do the budget and talk about money so I took Juliet and Ben out for pizza and had a sangria for lunch even though I gave up drinking yesterday. 
  Just a day in the life of the Goodman's.  Not many have the stomach for it. 

they saved the back row for us; part 2

As I wrote tonight of the love I'm experiencing in community, I'm reminded of a time when I was struggling. (just one other time)
I escaped out of the house and found myself on the way to a church close by.  I was so hungry to hear from God, to sense His presence, to find peace.  I sneaked in the back after the service had started, (I know, late again) and found a seat a little off to the side and in the back.  I had let my shoulders drop, taken a big sigh and my eyes began to fill up with tears.  Ahh, sweet love of God.  At that moment, a woman came up, touched my shoulder and said, "Ma'am, you can't sit here".  "Why?", I inquired.  "We need everyone to sit in the middle section."  I said, "Can I please just stay here?".  "I'm sorry ma'am, you're not allowed to sit here."  I stood up and walked quickly out, the tears streaming down my face.
What was going to be a healing time was stolen. I wasn't going to jam myself into a pew with 20 other people that night.  I was too tender.
I hear of many people eschewing organized religion.  I understand where they are coming from.  I know that lady was just doing her job, but she missed the bigger picture.  She forgot that the church is the people.  She thought it was a well functioning service program with the pews filled properly.  What a tragedy.  The only redemption is that I'm glad it was me.  I can separate the people from the message if necessary.  But there are others who can't.  I hope they are not herded and handled but are loved and healed just as I was when the back row was especially saved for me.

they saved the back row for us

"What would the church be like if we erred from  an excess of compassion rather than from a stingy and legalistic lack of it?"  -Brennan Manning

Do you ever feel like you're going to get in trouble?  As an adult?  It's a weird feeling.  What's even weirder is that the main place I have felt like that as an adult is in the fellowship of the church.  I'm always waiting for the proverbial hammer to drop.  Someone is going to confront me, tell me where I need to change, "speak the truth in love".     And, truth be told, anything they could confront me on is nothing compared to the actual depth of sin in me that I know all too well.  I am struggling with it, fighting against it, fighting against the condemnation that threatens to come, the self-hatred that is so easy to come up in me.  I'm reading "A Glimpse of Jesus: the Stranger to Self Hatred" by Brennan Manning.  It is a very timely book for me, and it's going to work on my heart big time.  It was given to me by a dear friend in our church family.  We have been journeying for about 8 months with  Madison St. Church, around the corner from our house, located on Madison St. incidentally, and it's been so healing for me.  These brothers and sisters know what it is to follow Jesus.  Truly.

They make us feel so at home, so loved and accepted.  We were the only family with small children up until a month ago and they have surrounded us with care and compassion, loved on our kids, encouraged us in our parenting, and laughed at our children's antics.  Since we have many to get out the door, it's somewhat challenging to get to church on time.  9am is a bit early to have everyone fed, bathed, bright eyed and bushy tailed.  So we straggle in about 9:15-9:25ish.  (emphasis on the "ish) and since there are no seats left, we make a big commotion as we take the front row.   We have been greeted each time with smiles, and love and after church, someone always says something positive to us.  But I don't like it.  I don't like to be late.  I don't like to impose on the good graces of our fellowship.  I don't want to distract them from worship, I don't want to take the focus off Jesus, I want my kids to be quiet, I want everyone to just GET IN THE CAR!!!!!!

I've been known to be late pretty much my whole life and for a while it was a bit of a funny reputation but now, it's not amusing to me.  I want to be different, conscientious,  prompt.  Which means I have to get out of bed just a wee bit earlier.  And there we have the problem.  I know it.  It's not rocket science Rach.  Set your alarm, get up 20 minutes earlier and you won't be 20 minutes late to church.  I'm sure each person who is on time Sunday mornings could have solved the problem for me.  But no one said anything.  I was not confronted.  No one even joked sarcastically about it with us.  There was some good teasing but it was so loving.  Last week, I did it.  I got up.  Peacefully served breakfast and we were at church on time.  And there I found grace in motion.  The last row was tastefully saved with sheets of paper that said, "reserved for late comers".  Which is basically us.  All 7 of us.  We didn't ask for that special treatment and concern.  We got it because our brothers and sisters love us even in our weakness, they meet us where we are, and love us there.
Granted, we were quite the distraction and someone might have been trying to figure out a way to not have us disrupt worship every week but of the two solutions, confronting us or saving the back row, they chose the latter.  And guess what.  I want to make the effort even more now.  Because I have been shown grace. ( I'm not guaranteeing an on-time arrival, let's just get that straight).  But I am given a chance to love myself just as I am in the middle of my weakness, because that's how God loves me and that's how my neighbor just loved me.  Powerful.

Brennan Manning again:
"Jesus cuts to the chase: 'So then, if you are bringing your offering to the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar go and be reconciled with your brother first, and then come back and present your offering' (Matt. 5:23-24).  What a terrifying reversal of religious priorities!  The worship of God and the time of religious practice are subordinated to reconciliation with one's brother; the value of community worship in the sight of God--independent of the caliber of the music, the effectiveness of the preaching, and the imaginative design of the banners--is measured by the quality of life and love in the community of faith."

"The Christian's warmth and congeniality, nonjudgmental attitude, and welcoming love may well be the catalyst allowing the healing power of Jesus to become operative in the life of an alienated, forlorn brother or sister."

Brothers and Sisters, let's put on love.  Let's lay aside the raised eyebrows and criticisms, and let's lay down the role of Holy Spirit.  It was never ours to play.  Let's trust God a little more and love extravagantly.  Let's take a lesson from the father of the prodigal son and fall on the necks of sinners who have returned home.  We have been forgiven so much, how can we not extend that to others? 
 ^{Matt 18:21} Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”  ²² Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.
   ²³ “Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. ²⁴ As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him. ²⁵ Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt.
   ²⁶ “At this the servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’ ²⁷ The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go.
   ²⁸ “But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins. He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded.
   ²⁹ “His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’
   ³⁰ “But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. ³¹ When the other servants saw what had happened, they were outraged and went and told their master everything that had happened.
   ³² “Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. ³³ Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’ ³⁴ In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed.
   ³⁵ “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
I LOVE you Madison St. Church with all my heart! 

What I learned from my brother this weekend.

I love my brother.  I'm crazy about him.  He is two years younger than me but he's way taller than me, a fact my children try often to reconcile.  "Uncle Jason is taller than you mommy, but you're older than him, right?"  When you're a kid, bigger equals older.
Jason came to visit me this past weekend and it was a gift.  We understand each other in the way only siblings can.  We've seen it all together, each others first loves, school basketball games, mission trips, our parents divorces and remarriages, weddings, divorces, babies, trips, ups, downs, poverty, struggle, laughter, deep talks, many glasses of wine.  We've both tried to make sense of it all in our own ways.  Through it all Jesus has walked by us, each step of the way, loving us, comforting us, keeping us.  That has looked different for me than it has for my brother but Jesus is the same and he has never left us.
Jason has a saying called "being present".  He has many sayings actually, but I really like that one.  It means, when he is with me, he really is there, mind, body, heart.  He is a listener. If he has an agenda, I don't know it.  He asks great questions, is always ready to offer advice if he senses it will help.  He has helped me in so many ways, too many to list here.  But this weekend I realized I have judged him.  I have taken a few things I saw in his life and put him neatly into a box...something he JUST loves.  wink wink.  We went out to breakfast for my birthday, Jason, Hutch, and I and then picked up mom at the airport, never stopping for a minute the intense dialogue between us.  We were so busy talking deep, that we just drove around and eventually ended up in a parking lot, between Chick-fil-A, and In-n-Out Burger.  (could there be a better parking lot?  I submit, there cannot.)

Jason was sharing his heart and said he'd like to have a tattoo of a question mark on his shoulder to symbolize his search.  The questions are so important, in his estimation.  At this point, I can't talk fast enough, because for me, answers are important.  If I could get a tattoo of an answer on my shoulder, I would, although I don't know what symbolizes that.  Maybe an ass.   But I digress.

I'm tearing up, I want my brother, who is my very heart, to KNOW, really KNOW some answers.  To have a clear path forward.   But he isn't there in that place right now.  He knows some things that are important, like family, love, God.  But he is on a journey.  One that, up til this weekend, I was not on with him because of my viewpoint.
I'm sorry Jason.  I'm sorry I've missed out on YOU.  Your heart, your view, your thoughts, your struggles.
I won't be making that mistake again.  At one point  mom shares her experience and it's so true..."every time I've given someone unsolicited advice, it's taken as criticism".  She has been listening to Hutch, Jason and me dialogue and isn't saying much.  I know she's praying in her heart, she often prays for us.  She taught me this weekend that relying on prayer is the best course of action.  But back to my little brother.

We had more wonderful talks over the weekend, and never got to bed early and we didn't care.  There is enough coffee.  Sunday morning we all go to church and after singing "The Power of Your Love"  which is a song that a) I've never heard sung in my church up til this point, and b) a song that my brother and I sang together for the first time in high school and were very touched by it.  After a few more songs, we sit down and a man gets up and says, "today we will be talking about questions".  The importance of questions.  My eyes fill with tears.  We all, mom, Jason, Hutch and I, exchange meaningful looks.  God knew.  As I sat and listened, my first instinct was to think, "wow, a service tailor made for my brother!"  We were just talking about questions and here we are, listening to a sermon about them!!

As the service went on, it became patently clear that the message was for ME, and not my brother.  This was not a case of "turn to your neighbor and say, 'he's talkin to you'".  This was, "RACHEL...you're not comfortable with the questions, but I am.  I AM."

My pattern is to fix.  To talk, figure, "help".
I learned this weekend from my brother that:
I need to listen more.
I need to be present.
To trust God more and myself less.
To love wholeheartedly.
To love someone even when they don't listen to you.
To let go of my illusion of control.
To understand the difference between the ideal and where I am and be ok with that.
To make steps toward the ideal and live with the process.
To ask questions.
As we went back over some of our individual histories,I asked Jason, "how have you seen God working through all this?".  He responded that no one has asked him that question.  It broke my heart.  How many friends do we have that we miss their hearts because we haven't stopped to ask them how it really is?  Let me tell you, I will be asking him that question more often.
Talking less, listening more, praying more.

I love you Jason, God gave me an amazing gift when he gave me you.  Thank you for all you teach me.

here's the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eA4narr2wyE&feature=related

What do I want most in the world?

That's easy...WORLD peace.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3st-Hai1y54
My mom and I love this clip, we quote it all the time.

Letting alone in child training

Henry Clay Trumbull, a very wise man, wrote a book called "Hints on Child Training".  I really like the title because he doesn't presume to know it all.  He just has some hints for me that might help.

Letting alone in child training is one such hint.  It's so right.  So scary.  So have-to-trust-God.  My fears threaten to surface when I see issues in my children.  I want to go after them and root them out.  But letting alone, letting God work, trusting Him with my babies, this is what I'm called to do.  Today I had the privilege of going to Disneyland with Juliet and Benji for Benji's 4th birthday.  Our passes expire and this is one of the last weeks we can go.  Both of them are so effusive in their thankfulness and excitement, it's such a joy to take them.  But, as all children do, they reached their "all-done" point, and it was right about the same time I reached mine.  And we still had to walk to the car.  Ben had just received a bubble-blowing gun and he was happily shooting bubbles and walking slowly but Juliet had nothing to distract her. She asked me to carry her, but she is just too big to carry for long distances.  We had only walked about 1/4 of the way back to the car and Juliet just collapsed on the ground and refused to go another step.  I got frustrated.  (it was over 90 degrees) (and I struggle with sin still...occasionally)
I came down a little hard on her.  "Juliet, I CAN'T carry you dear, you must walk.  Come on, get up."  For some reason that didn't' work.  I tried a little more forcefully, "GET UP Juliet!"  We have to go get the kids, they are waiting for us!"  Still no results, just a crumpled up 5 year old.  

Now, at this point, genius kicks in.  Or Holy Spirit.  Or 10 years of child rearing.  Whatever it was, I changed from my usual in-your-face method and went to the distraction method which I have seen many people do when they needed to deal face to face with an issue and  have eschewed it.  But today it worked so beautifully.  I asked Ben if he would be so kind as to share his new gun.  He complied, (I LOVE that kid) and she was ok to walk a bit.  I then discovered our mandarin oranges in the bag and I peeled them and fed them to her segment by segment as we walked to the car.  Without another complaint.  My goal was to train my dear little girl to be tough.  But sometimes I don't feel tough.  It sometimes feels impossible to put one foot in front of the other.  So a little orange segment to delight and distract me would be just the ticket.  Here you go...get up...here is a toy...take a few steps...GOOD JOB...here is an orange...lets keep going...here is another one...let's sing a song...we're almost there...you're so tough...here is another orange...ok...just about there...we're HERE!!! ....GREAT JOB...you are so strong girl...what a blessing you are...how amazing it is that you walked ALL THE WAY to the car!!!

Juliet accomplished what I wanted her to, and she is stronger because of it.  I am wiser, and I realize that, just like me, she needs to take her eyes off the problem and while she is delighting in something delicious...just walk.  What a gift my children are to me.  How they teach me to look to Him; to the gifts He gives me to enable me to walk.  It brings me such joy to be able to report that words of blessing and praise were what my little girl heard.  It breaks my heart to say that is not always the case.  Often I speak words of discouragement, or in a tone of disapproval I harp on little things.  A lovely flower cannot grow in that environment.

Trumbull talks about letting alone.  This today was more distraction and doesn't exactly fit with what he writes about, but the underlying issue is the same.  Give our little plants some plant food and water and then shine the sunshine of love and acceptance on them and watch them blossom.

Henry Clay Trumbull's excerpt can be found here:
http://books.google.com/books?id=WpZLAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA83&lpg=PA83&dq=henry+clay+trumbull+letting+alone+in+child+training&source=bl&ots=kNylzqQw3x&sig=3BMFpkdc154Eyu1cbBMgapXWal4&hl=en&ei=893ATZXWDe_RiALasNSHAw&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CBsQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false

helping others

I'm always ready for a disaster.  Always ready for something exciting, a memory to be created, a catastrophe to avert.  It makes life fun to expect the unexpected.  When you have a large family, this is an important readiness-skill to have.    My car ran out of battery juice at Trader Joes tonight and I needed a jump-start.  I stood outside my car and waited for a nice person.  The first one drove into the empty spot next to me and I explained to her I needed help, and could she either help me or leave the spot next to me open for someone else to help me.  I stood next to her car and she didn't answer, just looked straightforward, then looked at me, waved her arm around and shouted, "get out of my way" as she backed out of the spot.  So...you're saying you can't help.

Next two people didn't even slow down to see if they could possibly help.  Me:  "Excuse me, could you give me a jump, my car battery died.  I have cables, and I know how to do it."   Woman: "no, I don't think so".
Me: Same question Man:  "I don't think my car could start that big thing". 
me: same question  Woman #2:  "oh, I really can't".  I'm a little too put off at this moment to ask, "um...why can't you?"  I just can't take any more rejection.
At this point, I really hate California.

Finally a very tall woman in her 60's in a large Cadillac pulls up beside me and I ask her for help.  I tell her that I've asked four other people and they've all said no.  She is flabbergasted.  Then she has an epiphany.  "Were they women?"  she asks.  "Most of them were", I reply.  "Well, that explains it", she says, "women aren't good for sh%*"!  She puts out her cigarette and begins a steady stream of profanities as she pops the hood of her caddy, and we both try to figure out how to get the protective cover off the engine so we can get to the battery.  By this time I love her, and I love the irony.  The other people were clean cut, seemingly nice on the outside but not even willing to slow down to help.  Here is this caddy-driving, potty-mouthed, cigarette-smoking woman who knows a thing or two about life and about helping others.(and about women apparently)

We got my car started in spite of a random man coming over and inserting himself forcefully in front of me to make sure the cables were hooked on properly.  They were.  Me and my new friend exchanged a look.   I tried to be thankful for his "help" and not insulted that just because I am a woman, he felt I  "needed" his assistance.  (I do want to encourage the men of the world to be chivalrous).   After the cables were put away and the hoods closed, we stayed in the parking lot and chatted for a while.  She had lots of good advice to give me, and lots of stories to tell.  We connected.

Next time I'm in a crisis, or I have the chance to meet someone new, I will be less offended at those who don't help me or show kindness and pray that God sends me just the right one, to show me His uniqueness and humor and give me a picture that life always brings us the unexpected. And who knows, the one who is helping me might need more help than I.