Showing up

“Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up.” ― Anne Lamott, Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life

I set out yesterday morning to write about how much I am enjoying my summer mornings, with my cup of coffee, and time to read, journal, and reflect. I even took a picture -- focusing on the seeming serenity of my morning -- and was feeling all warm and cozy inside. 

But that was during the five minutes when the baby was napping, the Baseball fanatic was playing in the Major Leagues in the basement (via the Wii), and Curly was challenging Dora to a game of Candyland on the computer.

About four lines into my writing, one of the children developed a toenail emergency, which required the dreaded clippers, and led to a complete melt-down -- causing me to abandon my writing to Google books on strong-willed children. (Recommendations, anyone?)

When I tried to return to my computer, this time with now-awake Baby balancing in a Bumbo nearby, he and his growing arm span knocked over my bouquet of freshly-cut flowers, causing a waterfall over my once tranquil work space, and giving my Bible the characteristic water damage it needed to silently declare, "I have children." The spill signified the end of my "quiet time" for the day.

(In the spirit of authenticity, I would have taken a photo of the mess, too, but I was too busy sopping up  water off the floor.)

My pastor spoke on the story of Mary and Martha a couple of weeks ago, asking us to identify the distractions in our lives that confuse our priorities and get in the way of taking the time to sit at the feet of Jesus. He remarked that the discipline of spending time in the Text and "drinking in the words of Jesus" does not always need to be intellectual or warm fuzzy, but that our time with God should be focused on study that leads to obedience -- a life that more closely follows Jesus' example.

For me, discipline, whether it comes to exercise or making time to write, only occasionally leads to feelings that are warm, fuzzy, or intellectual. Most of the time it involves showing up. It involves doing the stuff that I'm not always glad to do, but almost always glad I did. It involves practicing the words "yes" and "no," and discerning the correct time to use each. (I still need lots of work on this one...)

Experience also teaches (and re-teaches) me that discipline involves a realistic plan that can actually work -- such as getting my run in before the kids get up and hubby leaves the house, because I know that if I put it off until the end of the day, I'll just put it off until the next day. In light of recent mornings, it may also mean not attempting to do my best "soul" work when my kids need me to be present with them.  Rather than trying to write and read yesterday, I might have listened to the Spirit (and common sense) tugging at me to shut down my computer and get down on the floor with my kids.

Two reminders to be present right where I am.

I often get so busy doing the "right" things that I forget to do the important ones. 


My pastor called our distractions the "tyranny of the urgent" – that overwhelming feeling that whatever we are doing at that moment must be the most crucial.  Like Martha in the story, I scurry around, convinced that the inconsequential is of upmost importance. And it needs to be done now. And I'm the only one to do it.

When I start to scurry and stress, I often hear the wise words of my friend Whitney in my head, "You're really not that important." And I am reminded that my attempts to do it all usually come out of a spirit of self-centeredness rather than self-sacrifice. My priorities are upside down. Again.


But, here's to new mornings, new possibilities, grace, and the hope that if I show up and try to listen a little more, my priorities might reflect less of me and more of Someone greater than me. 


P.S. Speaking of the "tyranny of the urgent," check out this intriguing article from Salon.com on how email is ruining our lives -- mainly due to people's inability to pull away their computer screens and smart phones, even on vacations, even in the bathroom, because "the fear of not being perceived as performing chains us to our inbox.")