No Time to Spare

Busy, that evil four letter word. Busy and I are on a first name basis and if I’m honest it is a love/hate relationship. I love to do so many things, but I hate when that love gets in the way of the people I love even more. I believe busyness is an epidemic. Everywhere you look you see burned out people. You walk into the grocery store and there are entire coolers dedicated to drinks for the busy person, ones to keep you awake, put you to sleep, diminish stress, give you energy, retain your memory and who knows what else There are many things cause stress but I bet you a million dollars if you got to the base of much stress you would find busyness. Now all the people who know me, if they continued to read this far, just checked the top of the page wondering is this Lisa? Did someone hack her account? Right, so I guess I could call myself a bit of an expert on these things. 

Yesterday however, I saw busyness from yet a new and even more disturbing way. It was a harmless comment, a compliment actually but it has haunted me ever since.

I was helping at a funeral for a God fearing, wonderful man in my church. He was an older man ready to move to his eternal home in Heaven. I was setting food out on the table when the funeral director and his assistant came into the Fellowship Hall and he got this very surprised look on his face and ran over to the table and knocked on the plates. He exclaimed, “Wow, real plates, real plates!” and his friend countered “yea and real table cloths.” He turned to me and saw the bewildered look on my face and obviously felt the need to explain.

“Churches just don’t do this anymore. I never see real plates, than people have to wash them!” His friend added “The same goes for table cloths, these are beautiful.”

Could we have really gotten this busy???? We can’t offer two hours of time to ensure the family who has lost a loved one has a beautiful place to grieve and share memories?

I know you are thinking “Lisa, it is just plates” but do you see it is really a sign of the something a lot bigger. It is not about the plates, in fact for my funeral, paper plates would be perfect, it would be symbolic of my life, I LOVE paper plates, I hate washing dishes. Beside then there would be more time for a party! However to me in this instance there are two issues.

1.       We are too busy when we skimp on the things that matter and then pretend like they don’t. “It’s just plates” It’s just plastic cloths, who will notice?” We get busy and we make substitutions that cost us our relationships, our integrity, our humanity. Okay so I have taken paper plates to losing all humanity. Maybe a tiny bit dramatic.

2.       We have lost our respect for the seniors in our life. I walked back to the kitchen mulling over what the funeral director just told me. I silently wondered why real plates were so rare. As I entered the kitchen I found my answer. There stood my answer, the lady who had planned the entire funeral, decorated and readied the food was a lovely senior herself, with curved fingers as arthritis had taken its toll. The reason we still have plates is that we still have seniors planning the funerals in our church. What will happen as they slowly pass away? For their funerals I am afraid we too will begin using paper plates.  I have much to say on this but I will save it for another post. (I know you can’t waitJ)

Trust me, I fully recognize that as I point my finger at society, at you, I realize that all other fingers are pointing right back at me. I am the worst culprit of all. This was the first funeral I have worked at in my church. I think I was too busy for all the others.

I hate resolutions, they are just a reminder to me of my great capability to start something but not finish.  But this year, I am going to make a resolution. If you are older like me you might remember when Nancy Regan started her drug free campaign; “Just Say No” was the tagline. Well, this is going to be my resolution; I am going to “Just Say No.” I am going to say no; no to things that rob me of my relationships and no to things that steal respect away from those who deserve it. I am going to refuse to allow society and culture to tell me that I need to do more and move faster, and miss life along the way. 

I pray that God helps me in this process. I pray that He give me eyes to see others, that He gives me a mind to discern important from unimportant, feet to do only what He calls me to and hands to wash lots and lots of dishes.

Go to Nineveh!

Go to Nineveh. That was the challenge.  Do something, something a little outside your comfort zone.  This was the challenge posed to the awesome ladies I have the privilege of hanging out with every Wednesday evening.  We were doing a study on Jonah and we were challenged to step outside our safe little bubbles and do something for someone else.  After weeks of ideas, prayer and deliberation we decided to partner with a ministry that serves the homeless in Minneapolis.

As a group we decided that we would make 200 meals to deliver to the homeless in Minneapolis. A few days before we were to make our trip, the leader of the organization In Love, Word and Deed talked to me about gathering some coats. She told me that on her last visit they had to turn many away without a coat. She thought they turned away as many as 100 people. A huge shadow of doubt cast over my heart. How in the world would we gather enough coats to make a difference in only a few short days? We talked about it the Wednesday before and as a group we decided we would do the best we could to spread the word and let God do the rest.  And WOW does He love to work in those situations. On the day we gathered to go the kids counted the coats they came to a final tally, 46 men’s coats and 41 women’s coats. I was impressed but then one of the girl’s noticed a pile behind the boxes and there laid 13 more coats. 100 COATS!

We pulled up to a shelter downtown Minneapolis and began to unload our boxes to set up on tables. I could NOT believe how quickly people began to line up. There were men and women of every race and every age.  People began to pour in.  There were enough ladies at the tables so I just began to walk around the room, taking in the situation. I noticed a man asleep across some folding chairs. A couple sat holding hands in the back corner of the room. I began to see the faces. These were people, real people with emotion, stories, thoughts and cares….. just like me.  Growing up my mom used to always say to me “Remember every person is someone’s sister or son or daughter.” I have always tried to see people through that lens. This time though, it was different the people standing before me weren’t just someone’s brother or daughter. They were me.  If I am honest with myself I recognize that I have made many mistakes and took many wrong turns. I am fortunate to have family and friends who have helped when I have needed it, who have loved me and carried me through but where would I be without them?

The truth is we are all just a few choices or a different childhood or a death or a job loss away.  Aren’t we? One man I talked with told me about his childhood with 7 brothers and 4 sisters and his parents who weren’t really parents at all. I silently wonder, why not me? As his story unfolded I began to recall the many, many blessings I have been given.  Not because I deserved them, not because I earned them. In fact I still have no reason to explain them.  No reason other than grace.

I was challenged to go and make a difference for someone else.  I am not sure that happened but I know for sure they made a difference to me. 

I will be going back. I will bring more coats and God will provide them. I will again be reminded of my many blessings and the unearned grace that has been given to me. I will see people not only as someone’s loved one but as myself.  I am no better, no different, no more loved and no more worthy of God’s love.