Bird by Bird

In her iconic 1994 chronicle Bird by Bird, Anne LaMott narrates a story from her childhood about her brother who had procrastinated starting his huge school report about birds.  As in any act of putting off the inevitable, suddenly it was the night before it was due.  He sat slumped at the table, defeated and overwhelmed by the immensity of the work now before him.

He was ready to give up all together.  It was an impossible task.  Her father came up beside him.  How in the world can I do this? her brother lamented.

"Bird by bird," her father replied.

Over the years, I have heard that story repeated in a variety of situations when drowning beneath a massive impenetrable load of work.  Just take it one bird at a time.  Take one step and then another.

In this time of covid, many are overwhelmed by the hard labor at hand, working from home, logging uncountable hours in essential tasks in hospitals, or taking care of young kids and balancing instruction and homework for schoolchildren.  Too much.  Where do I even start?  Bird by bird.

But others are hunkered down at home, overwhelmed as well, not by the immensity of work but by the lack of it.  Little personal interaction, unemployed, empty days fading from one into another. What day is it?   There is nothing to do.

And again, the best approach is bird by bird.  Take one step and then another.  Do one thing, just one tiny step, and another will rise to take its place.  And in my experience, one step guides me to the next.

...do what your hand finds to do,
     for God is with you.

                   1 Samuel 10. 7

It may not be what we particularly want to do, but there is always something within reach, a starting point, even what appears just a necessary action.  What is nearest, what is proximate, what is immediate, and what can we be working toward?  Those steps and tasks may not be deemed significant, but they may indeed be worthy of attention.  God never intends for waiting to be a passive verb, but a time of preparing, equipping, and pulling weeds long neglected.  The next thing is already here today.

What new thing should I do?  What should I do differently?  What should I do faithfully?

"Beware of allowing yourself to think that the shallow concerns of life are not ordained of God;  they are as much of God as the profound."  (Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest)

As we respond to God's leading, He changes our hearts and enlarges our vision.  Perhaps this is not such an empty wasteland after all, but a new canvas appearing in the ordinary, a place of His faithfulness and redeeming.  God changes the landscape, even right where we are.

Step by step.  Task by task.
    Obedience by obedience.
    Even in the hard stuff
        that seems daunting.
God reveals His glory,
       but not just at the end of this.
Because every day is a story of God's faithfulness.
And we are surrounded by His grace.

Bird by bird.

A Twinkle in Her Eye

My mom and my grandmother Mammy made their living as musicians, finding cracks in solid concrete walls to literally at times put food on the table.  I could list the hard stuff in their lives that would have brought defeat in most people's lives.  But I am also very aware of how they navigated the difficult passages.

I had a front row seat for their actions and reactions, since my grandmother lived with us from before I was born.  I can remember when things got tough, Mammy would get a familiar twinkle in her eye.  When I saw that look on her face, it was like she was declaring out loud, "Now let's see what God does with this."  She had seen too much in life to question God in her latest momentary affliction.  It was hard.  But there was always hope.  And she knew her strength was not her own, but in the God she loved.  Mom was like that too.  Mom was born during the Spanish influenza, struggled through the Great Depression, lost both her father as a teenager and her husband not too many years later in the war.

It was never the circumstances that dictated their action.  It was their response to it.

I learned personally from the two of them that crisis can either bring you down or nurture great creativity.  I actually think the two of them were energized and drew great delight in turning hardship into new creative ways of thinking about something.

How can we approach this differently?

In a single-parent household, having no money was a way of life, but for them, never an excuse.  "You want to go to college?" my widowed grandmother asked my mom in the economically-ravaged years of the mid-1930s.  "How can we make that happen" was not a question, but a plan for action.

Neither one of them was afraid of hard work.  They expected it.  They were not dismayed by what they did not have, or by barriers erected in the way, but they looked for possibilities in the scraps at hand.  As Jesus asked the disciples in the face of 5000 hungry men, "How many loaves do you have?"  (Matthew 16. 34) 

Things rarely turned out the way they expected.  But that was not a bad thing in their eyes.  They found God's wonder increasingly come into view.  Not just enough to squeak by, but more than enough to share, baskets full of leftovers.  And along the way, the two of them blessed more people than can be counted, more than they were ever to know.

In the face of trouble or storm or need, they knew to bring what they had to Jesus.  And adding to their praying, some divinely appointed perseverance, long hard hours, a heaping scoop of imagination, and as Mammy always said, "a little elbow grease." 

In its extremes, creativity emerges from crisis.  There are different ways of doing things after all, different paths of which we are totally unaware, a whole universe we have not known.  Doing new things -- or even the ordinary or mundane in different ways -- physically, relationally, and tangibly changes us by establishing new neural pathways in the brain and strengthening the chambers of our hearts.

Do we recognize the sacredness of the ordinary? Do we embrace the opportunity in the radical changes before us?

Dwelling not on "What should I do this afternoon?"
      but "What should I do differently this afternoon?"
What is right before me,
what is waiting
           ...and has been waiting a long time
    in the hallway
    and at the front door,
out of my direct view
            or clinging to the edges?

Not just how to navigate through this,
nor how to walk around it
           or thinking beyond it,
but how to respond,
      how to respond in a different way,
following not just His direction
                  but seeking God Himself.
And He whispers in our ears,
"I am going with you.
                  Do not be afraid."

These things are what I am contemplating this Mother's Day in such strange and turbulent times.  I was blessed by my mom and grandmother, by the twinkle in their eyes, how to navigate this, not in despair but in wonder, to show me who God is, and make known what God's faithfulness looks like in real time.

Getting back to normal

With the economy beginning to sneak open again, conversations are now buzzing about what was BC (before covid) and what is to be AQ (after quarantine).  I am hearing a lot of "I can't wait to get back to normal."

I don't think God has any intention for us to go back to what was normal, ordinary, mundane, routine, exactly alike, unchanged, common, average, and business as usual.  Or should I say busy-ness as usual.

In the sudden shut-down of our economy and sheltering in our homes, we sounded a lot like the Israelites just three days after the monumental life-altering parting of the Red Sea, grumbling for what they left in Egypt.  It was so much better before than this wilderness, this disruption, this quarantine.  "If we had only known, we would not have complained so much about what we had before."

Normal again?  That sets the bar pretty low.  Is that what we really want?

In many dimensions, as drastically hard as it has been for so many, this lockdown has actually been a release, providing a different season, a new way of looking at things, the shedding of rigid schedules and self-imposed regulations that keep us from seeing anything different or even contemplating what could be.

God does not say:  "Behold, I make all things normal again."

But He does promise:  "Behold, I make all things new."  (Revelation 21. 5)

Circumstances may alter radically -- or not at all -- but if we come out of this monumental shake-up unchanged, then we have missed the newness that God brings to any situation.  And we'll miss His faithfulness that continues to surround us, not just through this, not just in what we understand --or cannot fathom-- but all along the way.

And even very familiar words of Scripture take on deeper meaning, the heartfelt rhythms, songs and prayers by David, the singer/songwriter and poet laureate of the Bible, written in the 10th century BC.  And those psalms remind us --yet again-- that God's faithfulness and steadfast love endures forever, true and manifest three thousand years ago when David penned these words....and even now.  Even in this.

Even though I walk through
    the valley of deep darkness,
I will fear no evil,
for You are with me;
Your rod and Your staff,
       they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
  in the presence of my enemies;
You anoint my head with oil;
              my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy
shall follow me
all the days of my life.
And I will dwell
in the house of the LORD
                  forever.

                  Psalm 23. 4-6

Dwelling in His Presence,
walking with Him,
surrounded by
        His steadfast love.

Not just squeaking by,
    not just surviving,
but thriving
      in impossible places.
Live in such a way
   by walking with Him.

Against such there is no mandate

Yesterday, I weeded the garden bed.

This morning, (spoiler alert),
              I dusted.

Unfortunately, on the list of official restrictions,
weeding and dusting do not appear.

And while many things exist that I cannot do in this season of covid,
      much of which is way beyond my control
              or the narrow scope of my abilities,
   I can do something.

We are in lock-down because of the covid virus,
       but a wide wide world emerges within.
We are not constricted after all,
                but enlarged by the possibilities,
    hidden like surprise ten dollar bills in the pocket
                          of an old ignored coat.

If there is something I cannot do,
        I can turn to another.
I may not be able to change circumstances,
      yet there is a deeper treasure within,
not just in what I do,
          but in who I am becoming.

Not that I complain of want,
for I have learned,
in whatever state I am,
           to be content.
I know how to be abased,
and I know how to abound;
in any
    and all circumstances
I have learned the secret
  of facing plenty and hunger,
abundance and want.
I can do all things in Him
    who strengthens me.

                     Philippians 4. 11-13

There are many things
    against such there is no mandate.
Contentment
                is one of them.

Paul -- who authored this epistle in 59 A.D.--
was not living high and mighty at the time,
but confined to a squalid prison cell
            --literally on lockdown.
He did not dwell on
           "why, God?"
     but on "what, God?"
Chained to a jail wall,
in what only appeared as a deep dark hole,
       facing hardship and probable death,
Paul did the unexpected and unlikely
            and what was within reach:
     he began writing letters
     to those he knew personally
    and those believers he had only heard about.
What was within arm's reach
             was far more extensive than he would ever know.
At least thirteen of his letters are included in the New Testament.

And more than 2000 years later,
        we are still encouraged by them.

Wbat, God, what have You placed before me today?

How can I be faithful to You?
       Even in these circumstances,
       even in my heart attitude,
            against such there is no mandate.

Your glory in this day
          liberates me,
Your faithfulness reigns beyond the skies.
    against such there is no mandate,
    against such there is no end.

A Big Round 2 It

The jig is up. 

Nearly all of us have either an actual written-down list -- or a vague narrative of unending excuses -- for the highly unlikely "someday I'll get around to it."

Well, congratulations.  That "big round 2 it" is here.  Someday has arrived.

In this lockdown, our list of bonafide excuses have disappeared faster than that hidden bag of jelly beans.  The issue is no longer a matter of time, but facing our all-encompassing stubborn will to not do those things.  No more the grandeur of "If I only had time, how different my life would look, what a better person I would be."  No more the far-distant horizon of someday not just getting organized but being organized, cleaning out the scary hidden lair of my side of the closet, researching the family tree, or embarking on an enduring quest to learn Spanish, piano, or finally read War and Peace. This is it.

But now, during these many weeks of "time out" at home, we are realizing we never actually intended to do those noble life-altering things, and have avoided and ignored as much as possible the necessary ones calling our names.  Last week when I asked a friend what she was up to, she texted me, "Mending, ironing, sharpening knives.  It has come to this."   Every day, it seems, something else "essential" comes to the surface, raises its hand, or waves a red flag.  I am personally wading through forty years of accumulated and never-attempted recipes, wondering why prom dresses from the 90s are still hanging in the back closet, and like Nancy Drew, unveiling secrets in the old attic.  Even some of those things are just excuses to keep me from what I should actually be doing.

As Wall Street Journal writer Jason Gay recently bemoaned:  "The goal posts have moved from write the next Great American Novel to put on pants by 3 p.m."

The wisdom of Gandalf in Tolkien's Fellowship of the Ring says it all:

"I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo.  "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times.  But that is not for them to decide.  All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

Taking just one tiny step is like a concentric circle (above),  because one layer leads to the next, one step to another, and one action often initiates and energizes a new direction. 

And in the layering, we may actually end up doing more than we first intended, accomplish things we never knew we were capable of, or realize the extraordinary in what only appeared as an insignificant action.  Faithfulness does not differentiate between the highest calling from the mundane, but sticks to what is needful, even when we cannot yet see the results... or an outcome at all.

We are living in unexpected times right now, a vast narrative unfolding before us, in so many dimensions and directions.  I don't want to waste what I shoulda, woulda, coulda done, smothered by the grand "might have been."  I do not know the future, but God has given me today.  And in God's economy, nothing is insignificant.

For the day of small things is not to be despised.
            ...you shall be a blessing.
Fear not,
   but let your hands be strong.

                             Zechariah 4. 10, 8. 13

The point is not just to fill up the hours, but let God fulfill them.  God says, be fruitful and multiply.  And He will do the redeeming.  We are not defined by the significance of the things we do, but changed even more by being present in what is placed before us. 

"What then shall I do this morning?  How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.  What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing," said author Annie Dillard in her book The Writing Life. 

Jonathan Edwards, a pastor in the early 1700s, wrote down a list of 70 resolutions to guide him in his thoughts, attitudes, and actions.  In resolution 52, he ponders, "I frequently hear persons in old age say how they would live, if they were to live their lives over again:  Resolved, that I will live...as...I shall wish I had done."

We will never walk this way again.  May we not deceive ourselves by adding another "round to it"  by thinking, "Well, look at what I am going to do when this lockdown is over."  May this God-given time be marked by deep transformation, unlittered by regrets.

What am I doing with this time given to me?  Concentric circles are not based on accomplishment, but incremental growing in layers that alters the shape of our lives.

We are not called to just fill up our days,
or somehow get through this,
                   but learn
                   to live faithfully.