Laurèn made chocolate covered carrots with sprinkles for the Easter Bunny and placed them on a plate in the kitchen, the night before Easter. Earlier that day she had told me that three of her favorite people were Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy; she liked getting candy, presents and money. All week long Faven had been challenging the younger kids; “Do you think there is an Easter Bunny - really?” or “Who do you think the Easter bunny is?” They simply stared at her, while I instant messaged her with my eyes! She seemed to be enjoying the fact that she finally knew something that they didn’t. Or did she? In private she pleaded with me to tell her the truth – who was the Easter Bunny?
Late that night when Laurèn couldn’t wind down for sleep, as her mind reeled and her mouth spilled out the contents of her day, in a round about way she told me her thoughts about the Easter bunny.
“Mom, you know what?” she said.
“What?” I answered.
“According to Hatching Pete the magic is in the mystery, and I still want the magic of Easter, so I don’t want to find out the mystery.”
“That is interesting honey” I offered, relieved that I didn’t yet have to confess.
The magic is in the mystery.
Years ago, in the waiting stages of our first adoption, our minister was speaking one Sunday about callings. Some people truly feel moved by a calling but it isn’t necessarily clear why. Embedded in the uncertainty, there is mystery. Take Jonah, God called him to go to Ninevah to cry out against that city’s wickedness. He was afraid. Jonah, as a prophet was called to do the work of God, and yet he refused and fled. We all live the mystery, but the question is, can we overcome the uncertainty or fear and answer the call in order to find the magic.
Our family is a mystery to many. I am regularly asked why we adopted children from Ethiopia. The question comes in one of two forms: with a quizzical expression, hands gesturing in the air and a skeptical tone, or with a soft voice, hand on my shoulder and a look of gentle curiosity and sincere attention. I willingly admit that it is not ‘textbook’ family-planning. Each time I am given an opportunity to answer this question, I pause, not sure what to say. For me, living a life that is authentic means answering the call, to live, to give, and to be in a certain way – this is a difficult concept to share with another and it is a vulnerable piece of my journey. Creating our family through adoption was and is a calling, pure and simple. It was a plan outside of our making. It was a journey of faith. (Which in the aftermath has felt more like a leap of faith, across a vast valley somewhat miscalculated, crashing into the side of the gorge and slowly sliding down, then gathering speed, while debris and dust lodge into every orifice, rendering me unbalanced with clouded vision as I tumble into the pit – only to pick myself up, dust myself off and climb up and try again.)
On the days that I am exhausted and exasperated and I bellow out in anguish, from that pit, “Why me God?” there is only a dull echo in response, followed by complete nothingness. In that gentle space is where the mystery lies – in the still and quietness between God and I, where there are no clear answers, just a map without a route, and a path without footprints, which I am urged forward onto.
How appropriate that in this season Laurèn reminds me of the magic hiding within the mystery. Every parent knows that there is magic in our children. Heck, we have some pretty magical parenting moments too. I don’t mean the moments that take our breath away. No, I am referring to the moments when all seems lost; the train of our living is skidding out of control towards an imminent and ugly crash and somehow, as if by magic, we right the train, calm the fire and a crash is averted (this time!). We are left with the words hanging in the air, “What the….?”
Truth is, every day is a mystery; we only think we know what is going to happen. Our calendars are filled with work, appointments and ‘to-do’ lists. In the book “the Seven Whispers”, there is a section about Surrendering to Surprise. Christina Baldwin writes, “Life’s surprises introduce unexpected elements and experiences we might not have the courage to choose”. Remember Jonah, he ran away because he was afraid, he neither had the courage to ask questions nor step into the unknown. Also, Baldwin says, “surprise is […] the practice of leaving enough space in the day for something to happen that isn’t on the list.” Whenever I am on holidays I leave space for sunsets, the call of the loon, sticky messes and breathing in nature; but at home, there simply is no space in my day-timer. In my day-to-day life, I can’t hear the calling because there is so much noise and clutter.
Now we have a running joke in our house. When the phone rings, my husband quips, Check who is calling…….. if is God, don’t answer! Yes, there are many days when we feel that this particular calling has been too much to bear, and the sacrifices have been great. But the magic of being audience to a child who cooks corn on the cob directly over the flame on the gas stove, or widens their eyes in wonder when their curly hair get pressed straight, or makes their first joke, in English, or blossoms before your eyes in ways you never imagined, for reasons you can’t articulate, is worthy.
So I wish for you some magic in this season of your life. Just as my kids continue to suppress their suspicions about Easter for another year, so they can run with pure excitement from clue to clue on their egg hunt delighting in the palpable magic of possibility, may you explore the events of your life with cautious curiosity while marveling at the magical moments.
No comments:
Post a Comment