Psalm 25: 4-5

Show me your ways, Lord,
    teach me your paths.
⁵ Guide me in your truth and teach me,
    for you are God my Savior,
    and my hope is in you all day long.

Many years ago, when the children were young and I was staying home with them, I felt a bit overwhelmed.  We had had three babies in three years, my husband was in full-time ministry, and we had one car.  Yup, one car.  So, he left in the morning and I was there with the children.  He came home in the afternoon and I was there with the children. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I wouldn’t trade those days for anything.  But any of you who have been or are stay-at-home moms know that there were moments when I felt a little trapped, exhausted, and frustrated.  My husband saw this and started encouraging some outlets.  It started with, “Here are the car keys, I have the kids, go get some lunch or coffee;  take a walk or something.”  It progressed to “I got us a membership at the YMCA.  How about you go swimming before I leave for work every morning?”  Both of those strategies helped, but it wasn’t until he said, “Go up to my office and do some writing,” that I finally felt a true release of pressure. 

I had been writing at home the whole time…I would send the kids to their rooms for ‘quiet time’ every morning at 10:00 for thirty minutes.  None of us were allowed to speak to each other for those thirty minutes…because we all (mostly mommy) needed a break from one another.  They would each play or look at books in their rooms while I would have my devotion and journaling.  But it wasn’t enough. 

When my husband ‘sent me’ to his office at the church to write for a couple of hours a couple of times a week, I had permission to really do some writing.  It was such a gift to me.  I began to write chancel dramas for our church, lyrics for worship songs, and articles for newsletters and parenting magazines.  It was life-giving writing.  It became even more powerful when the chancel dramas were used in our worship services and people commented that they had meaning.  When my lyrics became songs and the whole congregation sang them. When I saw my articles in print and people actually commented on them. I was connecting with people outside of my home, sharing my relationship with God, and it was feeding me. 

When we moved to the seminary ten years ago, I had to put a lot of that on a shelf.  My energy was diverted to teaching and parenting, period.  Both very fulfilling, to be sure.  Both very demanding also.  

Well, I am no longer teaching.  My kids are all moving on.  So, I am returning to my writing.  I have ‘sent’ myself to the office in our little home by the river.  I have given myself permission to write every day.  I am trying to connect with people outside of my home, sharing my relationship with God, and it, again, is feeding me.  

I am loving this next chapter.

When I moved in almost three weeks ago, the campus was virtually empty. A few summer workers were maintaining the buildings and grounds, but the residence halls were abandoned. The trickle began a couple of weeks ago with resident assistants and fall athletes. Yesterday was move-in day. Cars filled every parking spot as parents helped their kids cram way too much stuff into their new dwellings.

Last night a few of us decided to make an appearance at an orientation event. I got just a glimpse of what I am in for. We were in the black box theater on campus where several student leaders did skits to share the nuances of campus life–eating in the cafeteria, visiting the mail room, and the like. In the room with us were (at least) four children of classmates of mine from when I attended this university!

The stages in the life of a Concordia student paraded in front of me –brand new freshmen, student leaders, alumni turned resident staff, and alumna turned Dean’s wife. That’s what I am in for. I get the privilege of a court side seat to watch awkward freshmen become confident leaders become invested adults. Seriously? And some of them are kids of my friends?

Who gets to do this? I do!

Later today, one of my classmates, who dropped off her freshman daughter here yesterday, is picking me up for lunch. This woman was once an unsure freshman at this very college herself. When I met her, she was a ‘seasoned’ junior who had already overcome many extraordinary obstacles. (That’s her story to tell.) Because of her growth through those obstacles, she was able to be part of the team that held me through my obstacles.

We are both launching freshmen daughters this year. We are both becoming grandmothers this year. Today we will share hugs and swap stories and remember the ‘good old days’ at Concordia and thank God for his faithfulness in providing each of us a place like this, and people like us, to walk through the stages of life with.

Deuteronomy 7:9
Know therefore that the Lord your God is God; he is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations…

I am sitting in a waiting room writing this on my phone. It’s weird.

Why, kids, I remember back in the day when we had to use paper…and number 2 pencils. I remember the manual typewriter I used during high school and the fancy electric typewriter I plugged into the wall in my college dorm room. Then, the big step up when my college work study employer let me stay after hours to write papers on the office computer and print them on the enormous printer.

Two years ago all of my students were given iPads and I made sweeping changes to my instructional methods. I own a MacBook and an iPhone. I am continually connected. Or distracted.

We all are, really. We all talk about it. We get irked when someone who is with us takes a call or checks a text. But we also take calls and check texts.

But hey, people can reach us. And we have gps on us all the time. And Google. Those are useful things.

And we have games and Facebook or Twitter if we get bored in, say, a waiting room. So, technology is good. Progress is good. Change is good. Right?

Assess it for yourself. Only you know you. It’s not all good or all bad. Technology is a tool. Tools are meant to be used to accomplish a task or achieve a goal.

Right now, this phone is allowing me to blog when I am away from my computer. It is helping me achieve a goal. A few minutes ago I messaged a friend about meeting for coffee next week. I used Google Maps to find the waiting room I am sitting in. Right now, I am effectively using this tool.

In a little while I may spend too much time playing Words with Friends. I may be so engrossed in this tool that I ignore someone near me who would really like to chat.

There is a time to put the tool away. I mean, I wouldn’t have walked around with that manual typewriter. I have been known to stick a number 2 pencil behind my ear, but that never got in the way of me looking someone in the eye.

I’m gonna put the tool away for a bit and be present in this moment. I’ll take it back out later, when I need it. Right now, I am gonna try to look someone in the eye.

I Corinthians 10:23. All things are permissable, but not all things are beneficial. Everything is permissable bit not everything is constructive.

We are going to call August the ‘Grace period’.  Because our daughters are here with us and we are helping them transition to their ‘next chapters’, I keep telling people things like “After August, we’ll have you over for dinner,” “After August I’ll be available for that.”  People are very happy to give me a month.  And I am comfortable giving myself a month.

I have said publicly that I am not going to start looking for work until January.  And I will hold true to that.  But yesterday a gray area appeared.  I was asked by my husband’s superior if I would meet with two different groups to offer ‘input’.  I gave him my standard, “nothing in August” response.  And he was fine with that.  But the question arose internally, “What are you going to say ‘yes’ to, little girl?”

Am I going to actually rest? Or am I going to fall into my old pattern of getting busy and filling my time?  How much is manageable?  How much is too much? Certainly a lunch meeting will not interrupt this season of restfulness. A few conversations won’t overtax me, right?

Right?

I don’t know.

I have been in Ann Arbor for eleven days.  We have unpacked boxes; we have set up our systems in the house — kitchen, laundry, office.  We have visited with old friends.  We have made new friends.  I have blogged.  I have walked.  I have napped.  I have visited two doctors.  I have renewed my Michigan driver’s license.  I have baked a pie, and made mimosas.  I have laughed.  I have watched movies.  I have almost read a whole book.  I opened the first puzzle box.

It’s been lovely.  It’s a grace period.  A time when I make no commitments.  A time to heal.  And I already know that August is not going to be enough.

The nest will be empty starting on September 5th.  I am going to need grace to adjust to that, I know.  After all, the nest has been pretty darn full since 1992!  If I start making commitments and filling my calendar I won’t take the time to feel whatever I will feel when they are all gone.  And I do want to feel it.

In confirmation class I learned that grace is ‘undeserved favor’.  I don’t know why God has given me this gift of time to rest.  No one else I know has been given all these months to be still.  But who am I to take this gift and throw it away?

I am God’s child.  He has given me an undeserved gift of time to be still, to recover, to heal.  I am receiving this gift.  I need His grace, period.  So I will soak Him up during this ‘Grace period’.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.

2 Corinthians 12:9