A Place at the Table, day 6

Hard to believe that I've done this fast for 6 days.  I know that seems like such a minuscule amount of time, but we're just under 1/6 of the way through this.  This fast has already altered the way that I look at life and food, finances and wealth, wants and needs.  And there's so much more to go.

Yesterday was one of the more difficult days of the fast.  I suppose that, if life stopped during lent and big decisions could be postponed, this fast might be easier.  But the reality of it is that life goes on despite our hunger.  There are still deadlines to be met, bills to be paid, decisions to be made, all while not feeling at the top of your game.  I don't know what it is about the second day of a fast (yesterday being the second fast day since the feast day) that is so hard for me.  I was hungry all day.  I was still sitting at lunch with a friend and felt hungry and ready to eat.  Since Tinsley was feeling better after three days of fever, we decided that we would go out and have some McAlister's.  Again, I left the restaurant feeling hungry.

And in the midst of all of this, there are a lot of things changing on the homefront -- some of which I hope to be able to talk about in the near future.  So I'm trying to honor the fast while keeping enough of my focus on life so that I am able to make competent decisions.  I'm not sure how well I'm doing with that.

But the journey reminds me about how interconnected it all really is.  I'm reminded that issues like weight and exercise, health and wholeness, finances and possessions are all spiritual issues.  A fast reminds you that you can't separate your "spiritual" life from your "real" life; they're too interconnected.  God wired us so that all of these aspects work together to make an integrated whole.  When we are struggling with a physical issue, our spiritual lives are affected -- and vice versa.  And yesterday, my life was affected by my lack of food.  It's a hard lesson to learn, but an important one nonetheless.

A Place at the Table, day 5

I was worried about yesterday, seeing as how I had spent the day before feasting.  I was afraid that my body might have gone back into "regular diet" mode and that I would revisit the hunger pangs and anger of the previous week.  It turns out that none of those fears were founded.  Outside of an odd craving for a cold schooner of Shiner at about 7:00, my desires were pretty well under control.  At least for one day.

And it made me think about the nature of worry.  There's this illustration that Jesus uses in the Sermon on the Mount where he compares us to birds and flowers and grass and makes the point that, if God takes care of all of those things. why would we envision ourselves as less important?  When I was a freshman at Lincoln Christian College, I had to memorize that passage in its entirety (along with the rest of Matthew 5, 6 & 7).  So, I know that passage well.  But it is still such a challenge to live that out.

The statistics on worry are pretty enlightening.  I remember reading about a study that a smart person did about worry.  About 40% of the things that we worry about never come to fruition.  Another 30% of the things we worry about are things that have happened in the past.  Still another 12% of our worries have to do with other people's opinions of us -- at least our perception of their perception of us.  And still another 10% are needless health worries -- worries that actually cause our health to decrease due to the worry.  That leaves 8% of our worries devoted to legitimate concerns.  Hardly seems worth all of the mindspace that we devote to it, does it?

It continues to amaze me how, when you strip away things from your life, you begin to examine the pieces that remain.  And in a lot of ways, you don't like what you see.  I worry far to often about far too much.  Will the bills be paid?  Am I doing what I was called and created to do?  Will my kids grow up to love God and people?  What does so-and-so really think of me?

In the daily reading for day 5 (A Place at the Table, by Chris Seay), Chris points out that the remedy for worry is gratitude.  His challenge was to just have a piece of paper handy and to spend the day writing down the things that you are grateful for.  I honestly didn't read that devotion until today, so I didn't even attempt that.  I was too worried about other things.  So, maybe today I'll have the piece of paper next to me to write those things down.  Will you try it as well?

I WILL tell you this: the first thing I'll write on that paper (through gritted teeth) is black coffee.  Lots and lots of black coffee.

A Place at the Table, Feast Day 1

Yesterday was one of my favorite days in a long time.  The way that this Place at the Table fast is laid out is that on Sundays, we are encouraged to feast with friends -- eat, drink, laugh, enjoy.  So I had been looking forward to Sunday all week.  It had been a long time since I had planned out my meals quite so fully.  I was going to eat a Reese's Peanut Butter Heart (or 2) at midnight, and then get up early for a bowl of cereal loaded down with milk.  Then, on my way to work, I was going to get a Cinnamon Dolce Latte (that girly coffee again).  Lunch would be large quantities of meat, and dinner would be a feast as well.  There was even a thought that I would squeeze one last meal in before going to bed.

Well, reality was less sexy.  The Resse's happened at midnight (glorious!), but when I woke up, the cereal didn't seem so appealing.  So I did the CDL from Starbucks and went to church.  The conversation at church was awesome.  Several of us chatted about what we had been learning about ourselves and our lives during this fast.  After church, a group of us went to Texas Land and Cattle and waited forever to get a table.  But it didn't matter (at least not to most of us) because the conversation was so life-giving.  I ate red meat for the first time in a while, but it was again the community that was being formed around the table that was the most fulfilling.  As a matter of fact, the burger and sweet potato were a little too much.  I felt a little bloated.

So much so that when our community gathered last night for table fellowship and discussion, I wasn't really hungry.  But I bought a chicken sandwich and a coke and was off to our meeting.  It was again the community that was life-giving.  It was our first gathering since we initially launched this lent fast, so we spent some time discussing what we had learned.  I was blown away that, since our first meeting, three of our families had begun sponsoring Compassion kids.  Our little community of 15-20 people had committed to changing 3 lives and bringing kingdom to earth in a tangible, food-on-the-table sort of way.  We then discussed things like contentment and overindulgence and appreciating simple things.  It was again an absolutely life-giving discussion.

We ended our time with some talk about healing and then we took communion together.  The last thing we did was feast on some cake for one of our group's birthday.  Not sure I've ever enjoyed birthday cake quite that much. I went home from that gathering, chicken sandwich in hand (I hadn't eaten it yet; I was still full from lunch!), very happy to have a community of faith that was trying to be intentional about hope and healing and redemption.

So now I begin the first full week of the fast.  I'm sure there will be days of hunger and anger, frustration and exasperation.  But, if week one was any indication, there will also be days of reflection, healing, community and shalom.  Stay tuned.

A Place at the Table, day 4

I have found that when I have been fasting for a couple of days, my body gets settled and I become almost impervious to the fact that I am doing something different with my diet.  That settling happened on day 4.  It was Saturday, so I had an easy morning and then had responsibilities refereeing a basketball game and then coaching Faith's basketball team (we won, but more on that in a moment).  The afternoon was naps and TV, dinner and baths for my girls.  A relatively serene day on the Lent front.

So I want to just take a moment to write about my experience coaching Faith's Upward basketball team.  This was my first experience as a head coach, so I was very nervous going in.  Despite the fact that I played competitive basketball through college, I had never coached before.  And in case you didn't know it, girls basketball is a little bit different from boys basketball.  But Faith & I had an agreement, so we went with it.

My goal in coaching these eight girls was that they would develop a love for the game and that they would continue playing basketball well beyond this year.  And I wanted basketball to be fun.  About halfway through our 8-game season, I looked up and we were undefeated (with a tie).  That became a bit of our guiding principle from then on.  But I still tried to keep them focused on skill development and a love for basketball.

Our last game was yesterday.  Faith had yet to score this season, and while I was excited about our team's success, I SOOOOOO wanted Faith to score.  At least once.  She came out in the game yesterday very aggressive, getting several steals, a few rebounds, and even a jump ball.  She got off a couple of shots, but nothing fell.  Until.  She got a rebound and arched a shot really high, and it came down right where it needed to -- nothing but net!  I am by nature an "energetic coach" (shocking, I know), but I about jumped out of the gym.  I was so happy for her!  She had worked so hard and kept going despite her inability to score points, and it was rewarded in that last game.  And because I was the coach, I was guaranteed the opportunity to see it.  We did end up undefeated, but that paled in comparison to the joy I saw on Faith's face!

I hate that I'm beginning to sound like somewhat of a broken record in these posts -- I guess that's what happens when your diet looks the same every day -- but it really is the simpler things in life that grant us the greatest joy.  I've had success in life and school and ministry.  But my girls don't care about any of that.  I decided long ago that whatever opportunities I have to be in my daughters' lives, I'm going to embrace them.  That's why, when I get to take Grace & Faith to school in the morning, I park my car and I walk them into their classrooms.  When I take Tinsley to school, I chat with her teachers and give her a kiss before I go.  Especially with my oldest, I'm not sure how many more days it will be before walking down the school hallway holding daddy's hand will be socially unacceptable.  But I'm gonna get the most out of it while I still can.

So, if you're a parent, enjoy every moment with your kids.  Hug them tight.  Kiss them goodnight.  Walk them to class.  Carry them when they ask.  Volunteer at their schools.  Coach their sports teams.  And if you're a grandparent, be in your kids and grandkids lives.  Go to their softball games as often as you can.  Give your kids a break by taking your grandkids for a day.  Bosses will fire you.  Jobs will change.  Stock markets will take your money.  But you'll always have your kids.  And you'll never forget days like yesterday, when the shot hit nothing but net.

A Place at the Table, Day 3

Usually, about day 3 or 4 of a fast, your body acclimates itself to what's going on and the hunger pangs lessen throughout the day.  Sure, when meal times approach, your body lets you know that it's hungry, but the "chronic" ongoing hunger goes away.  That was yesterday for me.  I was hungry at noon and 6:00, but was good the rest of the day, for the most part.

The last Friday of the month is usually a night that Wendy & I spend hanging out with special needs children through a program called Night O.W.L.S.  But, since several of the families that we watch had sick kids, we weren't needed last night.  So Wendy & I went out on a date.  Which is not as exciting as it sounds when you're on a beans/rice/potato/corn/bread diet.  So after a couple of places had wait times that were too long, we settled into Chipotle.  And since it was a date, I decided to splurge/cheat and have their cilantro-lime rice.  Oh, my!  What a treat!  I devoured it with joy and, as I was picking the cilantro out of my teeth, I smiled at how "simple" this pleasure was.  I later got a text from a fellow journeyer whose day was made when he realized he had some left over Jimmy John's bread to enjoy at dinner.  The simple things.

So, maybe the lesson from yesterday is to appreciate the simple things in life.  A child's laughter.  A beautiful sunset.  A home with a roof and heat.  The company of friends.  An independent child who wants to snuggle because she doesn't feel good.  Good music.  An engaging read.  Comfortable shoes.  Fancy dresses.  Hot coffee.  And even cilantro-lime rice and Jimmy John's bread.

So take a moment today to notice the simple things.  Hold that hug for a second longer.  Smell the coffee before you drink it.  Smile more.  Look at your watch less.  Enjoy the life you've been given, and in so doing, in a mysterious sort of way, you will be embracing the life that is to come.

A Place at the Table, Day 2

I don't know why it is, but day 2 of a fast has always been more difficult for me than the first.  Our community found that to be true yesterday.  One of our friends who gave up candy had to remove a candy bowl from her classroom.  I walked out of my lunch appointment (baked potato at McAlister's . . . again) and was already hungry.  Another friend ate dinner at 5 and was ready for second dinner at 6.  Like he's a hobbit or something.  Still another friend was almost cursing her co-workers for how much they were eating in front of her.

But as some of us reflected on our feelings, we were struck by how good we have it.  If we don't like what the dinner plan is, we can find something else in the pantry.  If we don't like the fast-food joint of choice, we can go to another place, usually next door.

The girl that we met in our reading on day 2 (A Place at the Table, by Chris Seay) is from a family of six children in Haiti.  Some days they don't have enough food for all of the kids to eat.  Are you serious?  When was the last time I didn't have enough food to eat?  Never?  And as a parent, how do you decide which kids eat and which kids don't?  How broken is this world that we live in that some parents have to choose which kids get to eat and which don't while other parents stock their cabinets with enough food to help make their child obese?  God, bring your kingdom! Please!

So how do we bring kingdom in the midst of this level of brokenness?  It starts by a realization of how blessed we are.  Every day I have enough food on my table to feed my family and then some.  I have a job that allows me to not have to worry that my kids will have to go without.  My daily choices are nearly endless -- meats and potatoes, fruits and veggies, starches and grains.  I have more variety in which type of cheese I choose at the grocery store than most people have types of food that they get in a lifetime.

But the blessings of life become curses when we fail to realize that they come with responsibility.  My hope for myself and my community is that during this season of Lent we will be shown how we as a blessed people can bring blessing to the people that we know and people that we will never meet.  If ONLY this happens, it will be worth all of the hunger pangs that we will feel these 40 days.

A Place at the Table, Day 1

Last year, Wendy & I visited Ecclesia in Houston over spring break.  Our friend, Steven, is a pastor there, and we wanted to check out his church.  While we were there, the senior pastor, Chris Seay, was guiding his family through a lenten journey that included eating only what their Compassion child would be able to eat.  I was intrigued, especially when I overheard Chris' teenage daughter telling someone how excited she was that it was Sunday and that they would get to eat something other than beans and rice.

Chris' lenten journey found its way into print in his most recent book A Place at the Table.  It is a short book that lays out the plan and then walks you through the journey.  I won't rehash the book here; if you want to know more, go buy the book.  Then read it.

I challenged our community here in Lubbock to consider joining with me (& Chris & others) in this 40 days of solidarity with the poor.  Several of our families have joined with me, and I thought this would be a good journey to blog about for the next several weeks.

I think what I was most dreading about the diet of our Ethiopian Compassion child was the black coffee.  If you know me, you know that I like my coffee horribly girly.  But coffee was a non-negotiable, so I decided I would have to drink it black.  I'm pretty sure that I didn't like it, but the 6 cups throughout the day kept my mind off of my hunger.

The diet in Ethiopia consists of maize, rice, potatoes, beans, & bread.  Being a picky eater, that leaves me with rice, potatoes, and bread.  Maybe I'll learn to tolerate beans.  I probably ought to anyway, seeing as every other meal in Lubbock includes beans.  I got a text from a friend/fellow-journeyer mid day saying that the purchasing of 5 pound of rice and 5 pounds of beans really made this journey a reality.  I agreed.

I had a lunch appointment, so I sat down at McAlister's with a potato.  No butter.  No sour cream.  Just a potato.  As I was halfway through eating the skin of the potato, my friend asked me if I normally ate the skin of my potatoes.  When I informed him that I did NOT, in fact, usually eat the skin, he asked if I was going to lick the plate after I was done.  Had he not asked me that, I probably would have.

Dinner was a bowl of plain white rice.  I ended up eating less than half of the calories allotted to me by my trusty iPhone app.  As a matter of fact, my app warned me that if I didn't begin consuming more, I could cause some problems to my body.  First world problems, I guess.

Later in the evening I got a text from another fellow-journeyer, comiserating with me about what an unenjoyable journey this was turning out to be.  But then, this friend-who is a hard-core Yankees fan-told me that his family had decided to sponsor a child from the Dominican Republic.  And he told me that the little boy's name was Jeter.  Not gonna lie -- I teared up.  Kingdom was breaking out among us on day one of the journey.

I went to bed on day one of the journey with an empty stomach, but a grateful heart.  I know that it's only the beginning, but I am blessed to be journeying with godly friends.  And I know that feast day is in four days.  Beware, Reese's peanut butter hearts.  Beware.

Give Us Rest

I've spent the better part of this year listening to the final David Crowder* Band album, Give Us Rest (a requiem mass in the key of C [the happiest of all keys]).  I'm a firm believer that seasons of our lives often have soundtracks, usually not ones that we would choose.  When I went through my divorce 7 years ago (goodness! 7 years?!), the soundtrack was Third Day's Wire.  I have always thought that this was an odd soundtrack.  Nevertheless, whenever a song from that CD plays, I am taken back to an eggplant minivan, a rent house on Lasalle, and a three- and one-year old daughter.

Even though I'm not sure what is just around the corner for me, I have this feeling that there is some change on the horizon.  And I think that Give Us Rest is turning into the soundtrack for this season.  The feelings of despair and hope, of death and resurrection, of darkness and light that permeate the album have struck a chord deep in my heart.  "O Great God, Give Us Rest," "Fall On Your Knees," "Oh My God" & "Oh, Great Love of God" have especially resonated.  But, like most of Crowder's art, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

I look forward to continuing to see how Crowder's requiem speaks to this season.  This probably won't be the last blog about this masterpiece.

How about you?  Which songs are resonating with you?  What is the whole album saying to you?