God on a Train, the second day

On the second day of my 29 Days of Giving, the kids and I were scheduled to travel to Chicago. Randy was attending a conference; we would join him for a family weekend of museums and new experiences. Carefully, thoughtfully, we packed for Chicago.

After our suitcases were filled, we packed for the dog. Bedding, dish, food and treats... check. All ready. The guinea pig was watered, her hay strewn around and her food bowl filled to the brim.

Finally, there was the train. A long train ride requires something for children to do so we hatched a plan. The cookies we baked on the first day of the challenge would become the snack, and the gift, for the second. We made so many. Surely we could give them away to strangers, bring a little sweetness to the day. That would be an activity, along with books and Gameboy and a few small toys.

All loaded down, we drove away, dropped off the dog, and made our way onto the train. We felt lucky to secure a seat for for 4, with 2 seats facing the other 2. We settled in for the long journey. Maia buried herself in her book. James and I talked and watched for the time when we could give our cookies.

Half a dozen people rode in the car with us. We'd only traveled about 20 minutes when James was ready to get up and walk around. He took the bag of cookies and approached a couple, but they were fast asleep. Looking back for approval, he went to a middle-aged gentleman reading a newspaper. "Would you like a cookie?" His offer was declined. No one in our car wanted the cookies we had made!

James came back and sat down, defeated, and we went on with our activities until Michigan City. A the station, a woman boarded our car. Cafe' au lait skin, hair curled close to her head, she leaned on a cane as she moved slowly down the aisle. She sat just behind Maia. Then suddenly, she stood and limped back toward the train doors. By the time she got there, however, the bell rang and the doors slammed shut. The train pulled out of the station.

She looked so distressed as she inched back to her seat, mumbling and shaking her head. I wanted to offer her a cookie right then, but felt shy about intruding. When she got up to use the rest room, I decided to offer the cookie as she returned to her seat.

She gratefully accepted and sat down with a sigh, closing her eyes as she bit into the cookie. Looking up, she smiled at me, then got up again to sit next to Maia. The story came pouring out. She was on her way to take care of her mother in Chicago, who has Alzheimers. She had forgotten her cell phone, and in it was the name and number of the young man who would pick her up at the station to take her to her mother's home. She didn't know him, didn't know what to do. As upset as she was, she still chuckled at the irony of needing a cell phone when for most of her life, she had no phone at all.

Munching another cookie, she told of her siblings taking turns caring for their mother, of her son who had died and left boys for her to raise, of her daughter who joined her aunts and uncles in caring for a woman who needed attention 24/7. She sighed. She didn't know what to do.

It was simple to offer her my phone to call her daughter. Within 2 minutes, her daughter had given her the young man's name and phone number, my new friend contacted him, and it was all handled. Easy as pie. Or a cookie. She settled down and we talked more, about growing up in a 2 bedroom apartment with 12 siblings sharing one bedroom, about having nothing, and yet being blessed beyond measure.

That was the second day, the second gift. Only it wasn't a gift I gave, but a gift I received. A cookie is nothing, really. Some sugar, a little flour, a bit of chocolate. Seeing God at work on a train to Chicago, now that is a gift.

Getting Organized

One of my goals for my leave, which I am gradually achieving, is organization. Doing a better, more faithful job, of organizing my time. Which also means having some systems in place to deal with all that starts coming our way with the beginning of school. I have the closet organized, the filing cabinet and several kitchen cabinets. I still have the play room, but that is a huge and all day project. In the meantime, I am also looking ahead to organize my days, to make sure I have plans to refuel in place, a system of re-creation that will fill me as life drains me.

As part of my leave, we attended a different church Sunday. Not a big deal to most people, surely, but to a pastor's family, it's definitely not a regular occurrence! Worshiping, learning, sitting 'at the feet' of another pastor - all were graces that took some adjustment to receive. God slipped a Word into my heart like a splinter. I didn't immediately feel it, but I have wrestled with its presence continually over the passage of time. It wasn't even the pastor's main point, just a transitional question. But I offer it to you, because perhaps it will give you something to think about - and it's always more fun to think together on something than just to chew on it yourself.

So here is the question: What system do you have to bless people?

I do believe one of our purposes as people who worship God is to share his blessings with the world. As human beings, we 'tend the Garden' of creation. As Abraham's faith descendants, we are to be a blessing to all the families of the earth. OK. So far so good. Our church makes a point of this, inviting the congregation to bless others through concrete acts of love and kindness. I make a point of it. I think I do. But systematically? A plan? Me PERSONALLY?

That I don't think I have one. I sort of bless others as it comes along, but I'm not terribly proactive about it.

The whole idea of blessing people dovetails with the organization of other aspects of my life. I've been receiving insights from flylady.net, a website designed to help 'sidetracked home executives' order their lives and their homes. "Flyladies" consider cleaning a 'home blessing' and invite others to look at their own tasks that way. Cleaning out my closet blesses my family. Having a shiny sink contributes to the good of the world because I feel better about life. Lack of clutter brings peace which naturally seeps out into our interactions outside the home. Flylady offers systems to make the blessings flow, so to speak.

OK, if you're into the traditionally more masculine side of things, the illustration may not hit you. Or maybe it just needs some tweaking to make the point. When I mow the yard, am I doing it to bless creation? What would it mean to do that? A neater job? A less polluting mower? When I cook supper, am I doing it to bless people? What would that look like? More nutritious food? Simpler, less expensive food that will allow me to share the bounty with others? Prettier place settings? What is my plan for blessing people? Is it giving money? Is it spending time serving somewhere? Is it creating something or recycling something or just being a little more patient with people?

I'm not sure what the details are matters as much as having a plan and carrying it out. Putting some attention in our ADD world into directing our ordinary life toward blessing others. My shopping - a blessing. My work a blessing. My rest a blessing.

What system do I have to bless people? Before I end my leave, that is a goal. I suspect it will help me say 'no' to some very good but beside the point things, and say 'yes' to God in new and adventurous ways.