100 Yards of Faith

Last night Randy and I went to the movies to see "A Walk in the Woods," about two old guys who walk the Appalachian Trail. There were so many moments that brought up memories of our Camino, walking across Spain, 18 months ago.

The movie was hilarious. If Bill Bryson and his walking companion were anything like Robert Redford and Nick Nolte, it must have been a real trip.

SPOILER ALERT. Skip down to "My friend Mark" if you don't want to know how the movie ends!

But the ending seemed a big abrupt. And more than abrupt, a bit disappointing. Why? Because they didn't finish. After all they had been through, the mountains they had already climbed, the fears they had overcome, one day they just pack up and go home. And as an audience you feel let down. You were fighting for them, these two old, out of shape guys, and you wanted them to make it all 2,160 miles. Because if they could do it anyone could.

But the moral of the story was not that to win you have to finish. Maybe the moral is that to win you simply have to start.

My friend Mark began his walk across Spain in mid August, but had to return two weeks later to deal with some issues at home. Before walking my own Camino I might have seen this as a failure. But not today. Today I can see that he took the leap of faith needed to begin. And he learned so much in just two weeks! In his own words...

If I had to write a story about my Camino, the title would be "Do You Have 100 Yards of Faith?" Several times I was convinced I had taken a wrong turn and either backtracked or waited till I saw others for my answer. One time I was walking thru a forest and suddenly realized I was all alone. I stopped for at least 15 minutes, listening and watching. I heard nor saw no one. As soon as I started to go back, two guys came down the trail and I asked if this was the way. They said it must be, it was the only way they could see. So I started again in the direction I had been heading and not more than 100 yards down the path, at a bend in the trail, was a signpost. Wow. I stopped dead in my tracks. Overwhelmed by the realization that all He was asking of me, when I thought I was lost, was to have 100 more yards of faith. - Mark Kirkwood

We are rarely able to see the end from the beginning. In our marriages, our careers, our health, or other opportunities. For some, that is reason enough to quit in the middle, or to never even begin. For others, it is reason enough to look to friends, family, the world, even strangers to tell you if you are going the right direction.

But faith isn't knowing how it is all going to turn out. Faith is not knowing, but being willing to keep moving forward anyway.

So... Do you have 100 yards of faith?

"Making Time" for What's Important

Randy and I are very lucky. We get to spend tons of time with each other. We never have to "make time" because there is always time. Sure, he has 20 hour work days, but this time a year those don't happen more than once or twice a week. And I always have writing to do, but 6 hours of intense mental work is really the maximum my brain can do in a day. Which means on average we have 8 or more waking hours a day with each other.

Some of you would love to have that kind of time. Others would probably go nuts. But we cherish it. Maybe because our relationship has always been that way -- our first month together spending 24/7 walking and talking and eating and drinking and deciding who gets the top bunk and who gets the bottom.

But last week we were faced with the dilemma that most couples face -- having to "make time" for each other because our schedules were so jam-packed.

My brother was in town from Texas for work and arranged his schedule so he could stay with us for a few days. We had the most amazing time! Visiting museums, panning for gold, trying out new restaurants, introducing him to our local brewery, and ending each evening with a game of Parcheesi.

He stayed with us from Sunday to Wednesday, and then on Thursday I hopped on a plane and headed south to Newport Beach for two days of working and walking on the sand. I came home late Friday night and Randy had to get up early Saturday morning to cater a wedding. And then on Sunday he had to do wedding clean up and I had to meet my weekly writing deadline.

On paper there was no time for us to be together, just the two of us. And we could have easily said, 'no big deal, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled 8 hours a day together next week.' But we don't want to get into that kind of habit.

So, on Wednesday, when we took my brother to San Francisco in the morning to catch his flight home, we decided to stay in the city for the day. We wanted to give all of our attention to my brother's visit, and we hadn't worked the entire time that he was here. So there was plenty of work to go home to, but we decided it could wait another day. "We" were more important.

The decision was a fairly easy one to make initially, but it was harder to stick to when suddenly a deadline was breathing down my neck. While we were standing on Pier 39, listening to the sea lions bark, my supervisor emailed me asking if I could turn my work in on Friday instead of Sunday (the downside to email alerts on your smartphone!). The only way that would happen was for us to get in the car right then and head home. So for the first time in my 3 years of working with him I said "no." His response? "Okay. Sunday will be fine." How about that! No disappoint, no manipulation, no love lost. And Randy and I went on to enjoy our day together in San Francisco.

The next morning it was Randy's turn to have to choose between us and work. He wanted to take me to the airport even though he had a busy day of wedding prep. Tables and chairs and a dance floor were scheduled to be delivered to the wedding site and he planned on being there to receive it. They were supposed to come late morning, but moments before we were going to leave for the airport they called and said, "we'll be there in 5 minutes."

I told Randy I understood if he needed to go and I was fine to drive myself to the airport and leave the car there. I was only going to be gone for one night after all. "No," he said. "I want to drive you; I told you I would drive you, and I'm going to drive you." And he did.

While I am very happy to go back to our 8 hours a day together and not having to "make time" for our relationship, I'm glad that we were faced with this challenge and were able to show one another that our relationship really does come first.

I Can't Serve Others

"A year to serve" is not what I thought it would be. When I felt God leading me to claim hold of "serve" as my "word of the year" I thought God would call me outside my comfort zone, place needy people in my path daily, show me a million ways that I can serve others inside and outside my community.

There has been some of that. The panhandler at the intersection, buying the drinks of the guy and his young daughter behind me in line at Starbucks, tithing, taking a trunk load of clothes to the consignment shop where proceeds support victims of domestic violence, having conversations about what we can do to prevent human trafficking, giving and receiving compliments...

All the while I've neglected to write about the place where God has actually called me to serve this year: right here in my own home.

I haven't been oblivious to the fact that God has been working in my heart, in Randy's heart, in our relationship, as we build our lives together. I just assumed that the call to serve had to be bigger than that. Bigger than just the two of us. But after 8 months of this it dawned on me that I can't serve others if I'm not first willing to serve at home.

God has ordered our priorities for us: God, spouse, kids, others. And I am to serve in that order as well.

Sometimes it is easier to serve the stranger. The person whose needs are basic and desperate -- food, shelter, security, education, a job, life saving measures. The person I can walk away from after I've done my deed for the day.

But what about the person I share a life with, a home, a family, a bed, a future. Why is it that we all too often expect our needs to be met first before we will meet theirs? Why is it that we overlook their needs as less important than the stranger, when sometimes they are just as dire?

Instead of looking elsewhere for places to serve in these last 4 months of the year, I'm going to focus on the relationship right in front of me. And as I share our lives with you, I hope you won't be too grossed out by just how much we love to serve each other!

Saying "Yes" to God

"Who gets up one morning and decides to walk 800 kilometers? Who does that?" Randy said, incredulous. And yet that is what we did.

Had we not, who knows where either one of us would be today.

That's the beauty of saying "yes" to God. Even when it sounds crazy. Even when it doesn't make sense. Even when you know it is going to be hard. Even when no one else around you is doing it. You say "yes" and your life changes in such beautiful ways.

"Have you ever noticed that two-thirds of God’s name is G-O?" -Christine Caine

Today I am so excited for my friend Mark who is on his way to Madrid, where he too will make his way to St. Jean Pied de Port, France, to begin a very long walk. Mark showed up for the first time at Xenia Friends Church in Xenia, Ohio, while I was finishing my first Camino, and we met together several times over the next year, the last time being this past April, just after Randy and I had returned from our second walk. It was something he had wanted to do, and hearing my enthusiasm for it pushed him over the edge. (We've come full circle, haven't we, from the woman I heard speak about the Camino which pushed me over the edge, to now my story encouraging someone else to go! Read: Do the Thing.) This is just one of the many beautiful things about the Camino. It's not something you want to keep all to yourself. You want others to experience it for themselves.

I'm excited to see what Mark allows God to do in his life. How he will be challenged, what new things he will embrace, where the road will take him, the stories he will come home to share. And if you think of it, please remember Mark in your prayers for the next 34 days or so, as we wish him a "Buen Camino!"  

Sharing the Stage

On Saturday night we went to a Chris Tomlin concert at Sleep Train Arena (where the Sacramento Kings basketball team plays) called "Worship Night in America." It was one of only 3 shows that Tomlin did, the other two being at Madison Square Garden in New York and Red Rocks Amphitheater in Colorado.

It was the most unusual concert I have ever been to. Rend Collective was the opening band (who are worth the price of admission!). But after they played 3 songs there was this long pause, like they were completely disassembling and reassembling the stage and failed to think of how to fill this empty space for those of us in the audience who are now amped up from singing about setting the church on fire. Not to mention the fact that there are like 6 bands and 2 pastors listed on the concert flyer so we are imagining this thing going all night.

Then the craziest thing happened. Chris Tomlin took the stage. And so did Kari Jobe, Israel Houghton, Matt Redman, Kim Walker-Smith, and Phil Wickham.

Now I know that not everyone is a Christian music geek like me so this may not mean anything to you. But imagine that you went to a concert to see a band you really liked. And when that band took the stage, 5 of your other favorite bands went up on stage at the same time.

Like you go to see Taylor Swift and Bruno Mars, Ariana Grande, Justin Beiber, and Katy Perry all decide to join her on stage. Or you go to see Luke Bryan and what do you know, he's singing a trio with Jason Aldean and Eric Church. And it isn't long before you forget who the headliner is, because there is no headliner. They are all just up there doing their thing.

The world tells us that the goal is first place. That we should fight our way to the top and not care who we have to trample to get there. Center stage is the ultimate prize.

But Chris Tomlin said "these are my friends and they are just as deserving of the spotlight. In fact, they are more deserving." And not only did he invite his favorite musicians along, but also two of the most well-known pastors in the world, Max Lucado and Louie Giglio. Seriously, who does that? Doesn't he realize that any one or all of these people could outshine him?

It reminded me of so many scenes in the Bible. When Jesus went to John to be baptized, and John said it should have been the other way around. When Jesus washed the disciples' feet, and Peter said it should have been the other way around. When a woman anoints Jesus' feet with oil, his disciples say she should have sold the oil for money to give to the poor, and Jesus says "you'll always have the poor; you won't always have me." When Mary sits at Jesus' feet while Martha does all the work and Jesus said that Mary was the one who was doing the right thing.

The entire life and ministry of Jesus was "the other way around" from what the religious people of his time believed it should be.

And Chris Tomlin made evident to me, in his simple act of sharing the stage with so many other talented musicians and speakers, that Jesus' way is still the way. That in order to be first we must be last. That we are here not to be served, but to serve. That the way to be in the spotlight is not to kick everyone else out of the way, but to invite them all to share the stage. Because it's not about us. It's about the One who created us.

Reading the Bible with Kids

A memory from my last trip to Ohio...

Kaylee flipped through the pages of her Bible, settling on a story that, based on the pictures, would be a retelling of Rapunzel. It was, in fact, Michal, David's wife, who was letting her hair down outside an upper window of the castle, helping her husband flee to safety. Michal's dad, King Saul, was plotting to kill David but, like a good wife, Michal wasn't going to let that happen. David later found Saul sleeping in a cave, and could have killed him, but did the right thing and spared his life. I told Kaylee that David had always been brave, even killing a giant named Goliath, because God was with him.

"That's not possible," Kaylee said (a line she stole from her brother).
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because God is in heaven with Buck and Mimi."
Hmmm. How to handle this one. Yes, God was in heaven with her great-grandparents, but how to explain that God was also everywhere... "Maybe when they say God was with him they mean God was in his heart telling him what to do," I settled for.
"You mean like when I'm supposed to do something, and I don't want to do it, but I know I'm supposed to so I do it anyway?" she said innocently.
"Exactly," I said, amazed at her insight. And she is only 6!

We went on to read the story of Samson and Delilah. The next day Tysen wanted to read her Bible, and she too chose the story of Samson. Kaylee immediately sat down with us and began telling Tysen the story. How Samson was so strong. But how Delilah tricked him and cut his hair while he was sleeping so that he wouldn't be strong anymore. And then the men took him prisoner and poked out his eyes (she was very animated about that part!). "But what happens when we cut our hair?" Kaylee asked, imitating me. "It grows back!" Tysen said. "Yes!" Kaylee proceeded to tell Tysen that after his hair started to grow back he became strong one more time and knocked down the castle, killing everyone in it including himself.

I absolutely treasure these moments. Sharing these Bible stories with my nieces and nephew. Watching them cringe at the gory moments and cheer at the victories. Helping put God in their hearts, so that they can always draw from that.

At church lately we've been talking about the importance of introducing our children to Jesus. Over 7,000 kids have gone through our summer camp. Amazing! And why is this so important? Because life is hard and we can't always be there for our kids. I read a true story recently about a boy whose grandfather told him he could always count on him. But the grandfather passed away unexpectedly and the boy didn't know who to turn to so he committed suicide. This is an extreme case, but a reminder of the importance of giving our children something higher to look to. For the 5-year-old who is a natural caregiver, but grows up and is unable to have children. For the 10-year-old star athlete, whose knee injury in college ruins any hope of a professional career. For all the hardships and hurts, the joys and blessings that are ahead, it behooves us to present the option of living water to our kids.

Care-givers and Care-receivers

Today I just want to give major props to all the care-givers out there. And all the care-receivers.

As I mentioned a couple weeks ago, Randy's mom is having some health issues (read her story here: Attitude is Everything). She is receiving medical treatment here in California, but her home is in New Mexico. So last week Randy and I took her there to take care of a few things that couldn't be done online from here. During that week we got a glimpse of what it would look like to be full-time caregivers.

We had a sense that the week would be challenging. In fact, on our way to pick her up for the trip Randy said to me, "No matter what happens this week, remember that I love you." Famous last words! But we didn't have a real picture of what the challenges would be, or that it would be as difficult for her as it was for us.

We took two days to make the drive. The first day was fairly uneventful. Mom has made this trip dozens of times, so she was our GPS. Pointing out landmarks, different routes she has tried, the cheapest places to get gas, the best places to eat, where to spend the night, etc. Which was really kind of fun at first (on the way home was another story, when we wanted to veer off course and have adventures that Mom was both incapable of participating in and refused to let herself enjoy).

But on the second day, as we drove through the mountains, the elevation change started to affect her. Her oxygen levels went down and, even though she fought us, we forced her to use the portable oxygen we had gotten for the trip. The night before in the hotel Randy and I had read the instructions so we would know how to work it. So while he drove us upwards of 7,000 feet, I leaned into the back to tuck the oxygen tubes over Mom's ears and turn the tank on. This battle would continue for the first couple of days after we arrived in New Mexico, with Mom assuring us she felt fine and us assuring her that the numbers showed otherwise. We didn't relent until a friend stopped by whose oxygen levels were far below Mom's and she could finally say to us "I told you so". (A conversation, of course, that will continue at her next doctor's appointment when we get the facts!)

The oxygen battle was really the least of our struggles, however. Mom's frustration that she couldn't do all the things she was used to doing is what really affected her, which she took out on us, and which she regularly apologized for.

Imagine you were used to making the same 19-hour drive several times a year on your own, driving your own car or your motor home, with your dog by your side, and seemingly out of the blue you are no longer able to drive long distances, walk your dog, get in and out of the car or even fasten your seat belt without help. We completely understood her frustration. And yet it was hard to feel like nothing we did was right or good enough or the way she would do it. So her frustration became our frustration and by the end of the week we were all ready to go our separate ways for a few days. Which, I've been told, is important for full-time caregivers to do, because in some ways it never gets easier.

Of course there were also many blessed moments of gratitude and enjoyment. Mom was grateful to us for taking the time out of our schedules to take her home, and we were grateful for the opportunity to help and to get away. We accomplished everything we set out to accomplish and those are things that will no longer be worrying her while she is away. And being away always makes us happy to come home.

So we are beginning to understand the struggle of care-givers and care-receivers, the battle over when to push and when to pull, when to show compassion and when to be stubborn, when it is okay to be frustrated and when acceptance is required.

I think the major realization I had this week was that it helps our ability to be compassionate when we recognize that the struggle is real, the frustration is real, the challenges are real -- whether you are on the receiving end or the giving end.