Worry to Wonder

I was about six or seven when I joined AWANA. The goal of AWANA was to memorize Bible verses for patches or badges that would be sewn on a vest, girl-scout style. During an AWANA meeting one Wednesday night at the Baptist church my family attended at the time, I read a verse from Revelation. Before that moment, I had never been told that the Bible says the world is going to end and Jesus is coming back. That verse terrified me. It shook my world. I didn’t feel like I could ask my parents about it because, based on what I had been taught about the Bible, I didn’t think I was supposed to or allowed to be scared about something in it.

I think I was a little older when I first got really scared about eternity. How does that feel like? I had been alive less than ten years, so what was forever supposed to be? In either direction, what does it mean to not end? In fact, what does it mean to not begin? I had seen things start and finish. I could wrap my mind around finity, but not infinity. (Side note, I just googled “opposite of infinity” to find the right work to use there. Another mind-bender.)

A few months after I first started to drive, I remember realizing all of a sudden that all these people in their separate cars were each listening to something different on the radio and going and coming from different places. It hit me how many people have existed and all had different thoughts and perspectives. It also made me think of the conversations I would have with my elementary school best friend about whether we all see colors the same. What if what I have learned to mean red my whole life means red to you too but looks blue in your world? How do I know for sure I’m seeing the exact same color scheme as everyone else? We all experience the world so differently from our vastly unique perspectives. So, really, what is reality, what is perspective, what are we all doing?

I have struggled with, as Michael Gungor puts it, the absurdity of my existence, for most of my life. While my fellow youth-groupers listened in awe to talks about how infinitely big and small the universe is, or how Heaven might be, or when the end times are coming, I would often have to leave the room. Now, I frequently wake up in the middle of the night remembering my consciousness and freaking out at the thought that I was without it for a few hours. Where was I? I wasn’t gone, but I was gone. I still existed, but without awareness of existence, what is existence?

The feeling I get thinking about all these questions is almost like an internal buzzing or restlessness. Since I can’t describe it well, I usually just call it freaking out. I don’t think it’s a full on anxiety attack. It usually passes if I get up, walk around, take a few deep breaths and try to think about something else. I force myself back down to my physicality in the present moment. I exist now. That’s enough for now. If there comes a time in the future when I don’t exist or am permanently unaware of my existence, it won’t be scary because I won’t know it. It’s only scary now, but I exist now.

I haven’t explained this to many people in the past, mostly because I think it sounds silly. I also wonder sometimes if it even makes sense. I have assumed, like most of us do with our secrets, that I was the only one ever feeling this way or thinking these thoughts and freaking out alone.

But I’ve been listening to my new favorite pastime, a podcast called You Made It Weird. Pete Holmes, a comedian, sits down with other comedians as well as philosophers, scientists, musicians, authors, neurologists and so far one football player, and basically just talks about the weirdness of everything. Toward the end of each episode, the host and guest usually discuss bigger, deeper, heavier, “weird-er” issues like relationships, existence, God, the universe, religion, etc. And I have heard famous comedians, actors, scientists, authors and philosophers discuss the same topics I’ve been afraid to think about for most of my life.

Except the main difference is, they don’t sound as scared. I’m sure, in their own dark houses late at night or while driving alone or sometimes while looking up at the stars, their own freak out moments come and they need their own mantras and breathing exercises to calm them down. But on the podcast, there’s something different in their voices. They have a sense of wonder. They even laugh at the absurdity instead of crumble under its weight.

“God is laughing because he gets the cosmic joke. That everything in the universe is a paradox. Nothing makes sense. Why do we exist? Why is there something instead of nothing? What does it all mean? Nothing, actually, in the universe needs to exist. So why does it exist? How does this universe come into this absurdity? How does nothing happen to become everything?” –Deepak Chopra

“This exact interrelated web of people and events and places and memories and desire and love that is your life haven’t ever existed in the history of the universe. Welcome to a truly unique phenomenon. Welcome to the most thrilling thing you will ever do. Welcome to your life.” –Rob Bell

“You live in a great, big, vast world that you’ve seen none percent of. Even the inside of your mind is endless; it goes on forever, inwardly, do you understand? The fact that you’re alive is amazing.” –Louis CK

“Mystery is not something that is unknowable. Mystery is infinitely knowable.” –Richard Rohr

“There’s nothing in nothingness, and what are we doing here? The big bang banged, and for some reason we’re here. And that’s astonishing. And that we can even understand that is the most astonishing.” –Bill Nye

“The meaning of awe is to realize that life takes place under wide horizons, horizons that range beyond the span of an individual life or even the life of a nation, a generation, or an era. Awe enables us to perceive in the world intimations of the divine, to sense in small things the beginning of infinite significance, to sense the ultimate in the common and the simple; to feel in the rush of the passing the stillness of the eternal.” –Abraham Joshua Heschel

“Whatever it is that you find yourself in the midst of on any given day – from laundry to meetings and traffic to going to class and answering emails and driving kids around – I want you to learn to live like you’re not missing a thing,, like your eyes are wide open, fully awake to the miraculous nature of your own experience.” –Rob Bell

And I’ve begun to wonder what kind of difference that would make to look at life with less worry and more wonder. To take today as all I have, because it is, and not worry about the end but enrich and fully embrace the present.

If someone left an anonymous, mysterious gift on my doorstep, I would probably go crazy for a week or so trying to figure out who left it for me so I could adequately thank them (and partly because the not knowing would drive me a little crazy in and of itself). If it were a valuable gift, I might also try to protect it and worry if it ever might be taken from me. But if I were wise, I would do my best to focus on simply using and enjoying the gift well. Someone must have left it for me for a reason, even if I never figure out who or why. Someone must have had my joy, pleasure, good in mind. Someone must have found joy in leaving me this gift, even if they didn’t leave enough evidence for me to adequately thank them or pay them back. So the choice I have as I see it is either to fret over how I got it and if I’ll lose it, or to simply accept it as a precious gift, be thankful and enjoy that it was given and is now mine.

Saturday Shout Out: Thanks for Existing

Some people are camera shy, but not my niece. She is camera rebellious. She is the most adorable human who has ever lived and does the cutest things you have ever seen, but most of the time she completely stops acting cute when a camera is pointed her way. Because she simply exudes cuteness, my family and I have been able to capture it on camera a few times, but it is rare. We have learned not to pull out the phone to record her, lest she stop doing whatever we are trying to capture.

I spent the whole day with her today, and, including the times she was napping and being a sassy toddler, there was not a single moment she was not being cute. We sang songs together ("The Wheels on the Bus", "Ring Around the Rosie" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" - and both did all the motions), played patty-cake, went for a walk, ran around inside and outside, read books, watched "Emmo" (Sesame Street), made silly faces at each other, had tickle fights, reminisced all our inside jokes, colored, practiced colors and letters, blew bubbles and played ball.

There were so many moments I wanted to capture her cuteness and silliness for the whole world to appreciate. I want everyone to see how wonderful and silly and smart she is. But I knew taking my phone out would end the moment. So instead I just remained in each moment with her, for as long as her attention span would keep us there.

A few times it was tempting to check the time, go over the details of the rest of the weekend, think about what was next. But she was fully present our moments, unaware of time or a schedule or anything next. So I tried to meet her there.

It's hard with little ones not to get bored in some of those moments. How long can a 20-month-old blow bubbles until they're bored of it? A long time. Playing with a baby is very repetitive, and there's not much conversation to accompany time together.

But what a good reminder that we can aim to be present in each moment of our lives, fully taking in the space and time and people around us. I don't have to think about what's next or check the time, and I will enjoy more if I instead check in 100% to whatever I'm currently doing. I can give someone else my full attention and meet them in the moment we're sharing.

My niece has no choice right now but to be fully present in her moments, but I am thankful for the reminder of what a gift that can be.

So thank you for being silly with me, lovey. Thank you for running in for a hug when I come over to play and for laughing at our jokes and for gushing your cuteness all over my life. You're a stinker pot, and I wish you would let me take more pictures and videos of you to remember all these cute things you do (your giggle, your dancing, when you make that face at me like I'm crazy and you have no idea what I'm talking about, when you tell someone to "ssshhh") and cute words you say ("gampa", "namma", "pees stah" (please stop?), "opry" (how you say your name), "omagah" (oh my gosh?), "ishta" (we have no idea), "boo" (the only color anything is right now) and all your babbly-singing) and smart ways you impress me (spelling your name, recognizing letters, pointing to the correct thing when we ask you to). But for now I will do my best to be content simply existing in and enjoying each moment with you. Thank you for the reminder, baby, and I'm so glad for every moment we get to embrace together.

Saturday Shout Out: Thanks for Mentoring

Tonight I heard a group of three men speak to a large group of international leaders about the need for them to be mentors and pass their wisdom, experience, care, vulnerability and love to younger generations of leaders.

Each of them spoke extremely well, eloquently and persuasively about this need. They told stories about their lack of guidance in their youth, how their fathers didn't speak truth or affirmation to them, how their role models were all negative examples, how no one poured into them and how they  missed out on the relationships that could have helped them along the way.

I have a different story.

Besides my parents, who have both been great examples and friends to me throughout my life, I think I need two hands to count the people who have poured into me and cared for me.

The first real mentor I can think of in my life was a coach in my youth group. She was a college student that spent her free time hanging out with awkward 12 to 14-year-olds like me. She was so fun and cool. I wanted to be her. But she wasn't some far off idol; she was accessible to me. She got to know me, asked me about my life, cared about whether I showed up to events and whether I was growing. She shared of herself, stories about her life and lessons she'd learned. She inserted herself into my friend group, playing games with us and pranks on us and laughing in fun when we joked with her or tried to get her back. She lived life with us, at camp and at church and those special times when she would pick us up for school and take us out to ice cream. She came to our level.

When I was in college, I became a youth coach because of her. She had helped me discover my gifts and strengths and pointed out to me that I was a leader among my peers, so I pursued leadership.

A handful of strong, wonderful, loving women cared about me, invested in me and helped me grow personally throughout high school and college. One mentor relationship that sticks out began in the summer before college. My friends and I were getting "kicked out" of youth group (as 17 and 18-year-olds, that's how we dramatically described it). Though we were in the phase of life that we thought we knew everything, we somehow had enough wisdom to seek out someone to lead us through the transition between high school and college. We asked her to lead a Bible study for us, but she did and has done so much more. She shepherded the beginning of our transition into adulthood and continues to check in on us, guide us, care for us, cheer us on, invest in us, lead us and ask us the hard questions.

I now work at a place that is intentional about leading and investing in younger leaders. I continue to be mentored professionally and personally. I've always known I was lucky to have these people in my life, but I hadn't realized how unique my situation was.

I recently invited a group of friends over to my apartment. When most everyone left, one friend pointed out to me that "there were a lot of older women over." I am sad for the young people who don't have the gift of older, wiser folks looking out for them, having their backs, guiding them, caring about them, asking hard questions, being vulnerable with them, living life with them, imparting wisdom, affirming them and more.

In the end, the men I heard share tonight talked about what changed when a mentor finally stepped in. I can say the same thing: my life is different because people who didn't have to took an interest in me and poured into me for my good. May fewer young people have to wait and pray and beg for a mentor. May more of us share and pass on the things we have learned and care for those who come after us.

Saturday Shout-Out: Thank you for letting me stand between you

I’m thankful for the number of years the two of you have let me be your friend, but I’m far more thankful for the value your friendship adds to my life. 

You each support me with words and acts of affirmation so well and so often, which has allowed me to be the truest version of myself with you. I trust that you love the raw version of me, so I let my filters down. With you I feel safe to ask unsettling questions, expose my inner monologue, speak my mind, share my most intense opinions, give the longest possible answers and explanations and let my silliness out of the cage I otherwise keep it locked up in. 

I can’t count the number or list the topics of all the discussions I’ve enjoyed with you. We can really talk about anything and nothing for hours and hours. These are some of the most precious memories I can think of. 

Remember that time that we unfortunately decided to ride in a 15 passenger van with 12 other full-size humans for days on end? I could count that as one of the most miserable experiences of my life (#firstworldproblems), but you were there. A memory shared with you cannot be unpleasant. Hikes to waterfall after waterfall, visits to national park after national park, dinners with people I don’t particularly enjoy spending time with, movies I haven’t cared to see and the hellish smell of sulfur springs are all counted as happy and treasured memories because of your company. 

Much of the time I worry that I am being put up with, that my friends are too nice of people to leave me by the wayside so they charitably endure my friendship. The time you spend with me tells my heart a different story. You show me that my pontifications are interesting and valuable. You teach me how I should assume others are intimidated by me, and you let me believe my greatness is straight up fact. You allow me to process my thoughts as I say them and help me by interjecting your own. You help me grow and learn and love better. 

There is a peace about you, friends. The peace you cultivate in your own souls by limiting your dependence on material things, seeking truth and being honest, maintaining your physical, spiritual and emotional health and ultimately seeking God overflows to those around you. You share about the choices you’ve made and found successful not in a braggy way but in a way that encourages others to think about what similar choices they can make for themselves toward heath. You admit to your less successful or pleasant choices and experiences honestly in a way that encourages the same authenticity and humility in others. You hold others to a standard of love, truth and excellence without being judgmental. You lead by example and walk alongside. You speak truth harshly when necessary, but always in love. I am grateful for the wave of calm and content you have spread over my soul. 

Remember that time a bunch of people we loved were at Chick fil-A, and more people we hadn’t expected kept walking in, and we said it felt like heaven because of all the love and conversation and delicious food? When I think of the time I’ve gotten to be around you, especially the treasured time we’ve spent together the last couple of weeks, I think of heaven. It has felt like time without clocks, without schedules, without limits. Time when I wasn’t worried about anything, when I could speak my every thought without repercussion. Time I spent effortlessly with people I love, without spending any emotional energy. Thank you for allowing me so much time with you in your limited time left here. I wouldn’t have traded the foggy early mornings going to work after late nights with you for anything. 

I could go on and on (even MORE than I currently am, can you believe it?!) about how much you two mean to me. Thank you for being a part of my life and letting me be a part of yours. Thank you for opening up to me and sharing your opinions with me. Thank you for spending time with me and always making me feel worthy of your time. Thank you for teaching me things and for letting me teach you. Thank you for supporting me and encouraging me. Thank you for saying you don’t get tired of me, even when I’m too goofy for Goofy himself. Thank you for laughing at my jokes and indulging my silly side.

I can’t really thank you for having the personalities and preferences that make you such compatible friends to me, but I’m thankful for that too. 

Thank you for being authentic and transparent. Thank you for listening when I’m long-winded without letting a glazed-over look come over your eyes. Thank you for gossiping with me. Thank you for being among the elite few who read my blog posts. Thank you for continuing to pursue a friendship with me through good times and bad, near and far. Thank you for letting me stand up with you on your wedding day. Thank you for including me in your lives and being such a valuable addition to mine. Thank you, friends, for letting me stand between you.