Easter Stuff and Things

Today, I slept in a little bit, got ready for church, and walked out the door around 9:15, amazed that it was warm enough to need only a light sweater and anticipating the warm afternoon forecast to us.  I wore my "Easter" dress from last year (a great find at Target, if I do say so myself) and my favorite sandals (another great find at Old Navy last spring).

Today, I carpooled to church like I normally do, and we greeted each other with cries of "Happy Easter!" and shared pastel-wrapped candy from someone's Easter basket.

Today, our church met downtown in a larger venue than usual, and celebrated the resurrection in a beautiful space with everyone from both services all together.  The little girls were all dressed up, and the number of pastel-colored button-up shirts and ties was astounding.  The service started with a traditional/gospel-ish choir piece (we never normally have a choir), the band was big, and adorable small children helped give announcements with one of the pastors.

Today, I ate Easter dinner with a big gathering of extended family, full of traditional family dishes and the same conversations.  People napped and talked and drank coffee and tea, and we oohed and aahed over the little girls' dresses and baskets and the baby's outfit and fun laughing noises.

And then, I went to work.  Easter came up as a topic of conversation, both amongst ourselves and with customers, and at one point, both of my co-workers mentioned that they don't really celebrate Easter.  One of them, remembering that I mentioned I had worked at a church previously, turned to me and said, "Can you explain what Easter is all about?  I mean, surely you know."

Oh God.  And I meant that literally, as a prayer.  I think what I managed to say, very carefully, was something about how Easter is the day that the Christian tradition believes that Jesus was raised from the dead, and so we celebrate it.  I also told her that I'm not sure where all the other stuff comes from- the Easter dinner food groups and the bunny and the candy and all that stuff.

The moment passed, and then later, the same person asked me what drew me to religion.  I told her that my parents were familiar with church, but I didn't grow up going to church, and then when I was in elementary school I started going with some friends and something about it clicked with me.  Even at that young age, I knew it was true.  And now, I keep believing because I need hope.  She nodded and said something about how religion seems to be a way for everyone to find their individual hope, and we moved on with whatever project we were working on.  In that moment, I wish there had been a way for her to peek into my heart and soul and see how desperately I need the hope that only Jesus Christ has to offer.  I'm not imagining the trouble I'm in.  No vague, unlabeled, unspecified hope is going to cut it.  I am so intrinsically screwed up that I need the Creator of the universe to give Himself as the payment for the mess I've created.  It's that bad.  And as I get to know this group of people at this new store, where the beliefs and life experiences vary so much from my last one, I'm trying to figure out ways to communicate who I am apart from who I am stereotyped to be.

But I am any different from the stereotypes?  My day, as described above, looked pretty much like millions of other peoples' days.  I bought into the gimmicks, the things that have nothing to do with resurrection, like pretty dresses and big meals and chocolate eggs.  When asked, I could barely articulate what I actually believe about today.  But if I can get past all the Easter stuff and things, in reality, what I believe about today is kind of radical:  resurrection changes everything.  And if I can be shaped by this story, by this language of resurrection and kingdom and life and light, maybe I can move past the stereotypes and communicate truth in a way that is honest and compassionate.  Thank God for hope.

Fading Light

In the fading light of day,
set aside, Your glory lay
abandoned, no, surrendered
to a people "not Your own."

But the promise You had made
entailed this price that You would pay
abandoned, no, surrendered
to claim all people as "Your own."

In the fading light today
I see my glory and my shame
abandoned, no, surrendered
to You, the God I call my own.

Because the promise that You made
calls me to give my life away,
abandoned, no, surrendered
for You to use just as Your own.

The Third Place

At Starbucks, we have a vocabulary for the role we'd like to play in the lives of our customers.  Home is, for most people, the first place- the place were the bulk of their time is spent, where they are comfortable.  Work is usually the second place- where you spent the other bulk of your time.  Starbucks, the people at Corporate hope, can be the third place- somewhere you are comfortable and feel welcome and use as an extension of yourself.  I think in some respects, church can fall into the third place category as well.  Especially for those of us who grew up in program-based churches, church is often someplace where we feel very comfortable and at home, someplace we've spent hours and hours, someplace we head to simply out of boredom, to see who's there and what's going on.

But the question is this:  What happens for the people who work in these third places?  As a Starbucks employee, sometimes I think about this, but most of the time all the perks of my job overrule the question.  But I am also a former church music director, and I'm looking at a calendar that says today is Good Friday.  I'm thinking about all the people I know who have already and who will be spending hours and hours and hours this week and weekend making sure the third place is ready for people to come and worship.  I was unsuccessful in my attempt to work someplace that has so often been the third place in my life, and the burnout has not been pretty.  My hope is that all of my friends and former coworkers are able to truly abide in God this weekend and minister out of the life and grace He provides. So here's my prayer (well, technically, Paul's prayer) for all of the hundreds and hundreds of people involved in worship services this Holy Week:

That your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, 

so that you may be able to discern what is best 

and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, 

filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, 

to the glory and praise of God.

Common Misperception

I am not a humble person.  I think rather highly of myself, and I hate when I cannot communicate my awesomeness to the people around me, either through my own ignorance or especially through someone else's poor planning.  I hate being wrong, making mistakes, learning the hard way.  I desperately want the people around me to trust and respect me, so I need them to know that I am great.  Or at least to think I am great, despite reality.  Today I was reflecting on why this new store has been challenging, and a part of it is that while learning new skills in a new place, I'm also constantly trying to earn everyone's favor, and boy is it exhausting.  Today I also realized what a problem my personal pride is when I took such offense at the public librarian's mere suggestion that I had an overdue book.  It turns out the book was still in my car from  the trip to library when I brought it home- hidden under the seat- but I didn't remember checking it out (since I didn't read it) and the five minutes between when she asked me about it and when I found it in my car were a very angry five minutes.  The humiliation I felt for having a tarnished public library account was a bit ridiculous.  But I didn't want to be one of those people, the ones that not even the library can trust.  I'm better than that (even if I'm not).

The aha moment today was that this problem has been hiding itself behind something my entire life:  shyness.  Since I seem hesitant to offer opinions in places where I don't know anyone, I can give off the impression of humility.  Since I don't always share what I'm thinking, it's possible to get the impression that I'm very generous in my opinions of others and modest in my opinion of myself.  This has served me well, if we're being honest, in some respects.  But in other respects, like learning to really live, this has been a hindrance, and I now have some long-ingrained habits of thought to correct.

Listen Up!

I find it telling that, in my world, aches and pains are generally viewed as personal attacks rather than what they actually are- symptoms.  My head isn't pounding right now because someone out there in the universe is mad at me, and my throat doesn't hurt because my body is trying to sabotage my 6-2:30 shift tomorrow.  My body is trying to tell me something- probably that I don't eat a balanced enough diet or drink enough water and that somewhere this week I found some germs, and my poor body just can't hold out any longer. It's also probably telling me to rest.  Instead of receiving this message and saying, "Thanks Team Kathryn! Let's go to bed early and add some orange juice to the diet this week," I'm thinking, "Gosh, tomorrow's shift is going to suck.  What if I lose my voice?  Where did I put that Tylenol Daytime/Nighttime Cold Medicine pack?"  I spend most of my life trying to mask any pain while causing the least disturbance to my normal routine, not recognizing the fact that most of the time pain is an indicator (symptom) of a deeper issue I'm not seeing, and perhaps the routine I'm so intent on protecting is part of the unhealthy cycle causing the pain in the first place.  I have recognized at various points in my life that I'd like to be a better listener, but I always think of that in terms of how I interact with other people.  Turns out, there are a few other ways I could use that same skill set.

Duh

Brilliant realization of the day:  Maybe I should pray for my family members.  Also, maybe I should pray for the friends whose lives are getting increasingly complicated and whose problems I cannot solve with free coffee or a movie night.  There is a list of people in my world that I say I would do absolutely anything for, and I often feel frustrated and powerless when I cannot help them.  The solution is simple: pray.  Duh.

You Can't Always Get What You Want....

... but sometimes you do!  Today, I was totally granted my wish from yesterday.  Today, we were given a taste of summer.  The weather was mediocre at first, but the day finished with beautiful sunshine.  I had the day off, which meant I slept in and read good books and thought hard-but-good thoughts.  It's spring break, so Robert and Bekki were home with me most of the day, and tonight was the NCAA final, so we had an excuse to have 15 people over for dinner and hanging out.  Our house was filled with people and laughter and food, and silly conversations and real conversations and life.  Sometimes, when I'm by myself, I'm not sure I'm going to make it.  And then nights like tonight are granted to me, and I am filled with hope and light, as well as gratitude for all the people that bring light into my life on a daily basis.  I can't (and shouldn't) always get what I want, but I am so thankful when my desires happen to line up with something good and God in His sovereignty is able to give it to me.  May this taste of summer carry me through to the real thing, and may it be a witness to God's faithfulness for my ever-so-forgetful heart.

Longing

I am longing for the easy season, the one where the sun warms my skin and my heart all at once.
The one where everything slows down, and the inevitable change is hiding somewhere beneath the surface, rather than laughing in my face at every turn.  The season where everything is comfortable and perhaps a bit lazy, but deservedly so.  Where celebration comes easily and sometimes for no reason at all.  Where I feel at peace with those around me, and most of all, with myself.