In my life I have come to celebrate mediocrity; measure success in small doses. There are very few scenarios in which I truly excel. Go back to high school with me for a moment. Every year I won the "Coach's Award" for my athletic team contributions. That's code for, "you try really hard, but sorry, honey. You still don't get to play." Fast forward (several decades) to now being a parent. I have great kids, whom I love dearly, but they are four boys who know how to be loud, how to make a royal mess, and how to really push my buttons at times. I don't have the best mannered, well-behaved little blessings I dreamed of. I can't even claim that I win the award for the worst or naughtiest little blessings, because they do have some compelling and redeeming moments now and then. (Though I do have some great stories we will tell for years to come.) I never thought I'd celebrate winning the equivalent of the Coach's Award for parenting, but I actually do...and I've come to find joy in it.
On the other hand, there is one thing I have gotten much better at over recent years...eating humble pie. I owe much of this new-found pie eating success, and the ability to find joy in it, to my adventures to Ethiopia.
In this crazy, stupid, ridiculous American world of people (women mostly) comparing themselves to each other, I've decided to embrace what is. I have decided to make it one of my missions in life is to make others feel better about themselves, by comparison. Hang out with me...You will inevitably feel better about yourself, in part due to the vast amounts of humble pie I have to consume.
Because of this, I have a story to share with you of my most recent trips to Ethiopia. Through this story I was reminded about how grace is not just about forgiveness of sins and unwarranted favor after the fact. But it is about a way of pursuing life freely. I don't have to be excellent. But I will warn you that attempting to live this way, you will definitely need unwarranted favor. In efforts to make the most of the time at the CarePoint, I had projects and activities planned. Most of that was suddenly not an option since that piece of luggage never showed. A friend, who shall remain nameless (Regina!), convinced me that teaching the kids some songs went well before. Then another friend, (Jodi!), convinced me how great it would be to teach them a song familiar to our church, which turned into a horrible, dronious song choice. Even better, these friends left the stage to "help the kids learn it." (Many thanks to Amy for actually sticking next to me, even if I did try to push the microphone in front of your face instead of mine.) So as you might guess, I ended up on stage with a microphone in front of 150+ children and families attempting to do good. You should have seen the look on these kids' faces. They screamed, "Really? This is what you do for fun?!" I noted this extreme awkwardness and cut the song 3/4 of the way through. In a panic, I decided they needed a more fun song. So naturally we went into singing, 'If You're Happy and You Know It.' Good active song for kids, right? Yeah, if they speak your language and know what you are saying. Otherwise you just end up clapping, stomping, spinning and yes, still singing on stage. Let me tell you, the body language I received from the crowd seemed to transcend language barriers. They didn't know what I was doing or saying, but I knew exactly what they were thinking. I wanted the stage to open up and swallow me whole. Unfortunately, I couldn't make that happen either, so I still have to live with that one. Truth be told, I was frustrated, embarrassed, just plain annoyed with the failure and a bit angry with myself for just trying too hard. I had forgotten that I was there to BE WITH them, not DO FOR them and that's how I ended up in this mess. It took me a few hours to get over myself, but I've learned a lot from that moment in time. I have had so much joy and laughter come from reliving this not-distant-enough memory that I wouldn't trade it for anything. (Now that doesn't mean I'm going to post the video online; you'll have to watch it with me so we can laugh together.) I've also been freed of my mess ups and am willing to go out and mess up again, as long as I do it with joy and thanks of living in The Grace that was freely given to me.
Join me in celebrating mediocrity, eating humble pie, making others feel better by comparison and finding joy in the everyday realities. And if you need a little help to get there, join us on a grand adventure to meet our friends in Ethiopia. In the meantime, get to know the truths, the crisis, and the needs out there in this world; and pray for Sue, Kara, Kate, Cindy, Sam and Carter as they embrace this adventure. You don't have to be excellent at it. You don't have to do as much as others are doing, but you have to do more than nothing.
From Patch Our Planet:
My goal is not to leave you with a burdened sense of guilt. My goal is to build a burdened army that will be motivated to action by the thought of children without a protector, without a family. Antoine de Saint, a French aviator and writer in the early 1900′s said, “If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”
Follow with me the team's story of adventures from Burayu this coming week.
