Big Little Things

John Lennon once said that "life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." I didn't plan to get sick this week, but, hey, life happens! I also realized (while I was lying on the couch, trying to breathe and not to cough) that the little things that get forgotten in our planning and in our busyness are really the biggest things of all that go into making a life. Shauna Niequist, in her book Cold Tangerines, challenges all of us to consider that we just may have been waiting for life to begin (once I graduate from high school or college or seminary, once I step into the career I've dreamed of or into the arms of, you know, him or her, or once we have children or that new home ...) and we're missing the best life ever. It's happening, but we just don't realize how good it is. Cold tangerines are one of the big little things for Shauna Niequist. A rediscovered big little thing for me? Grape popsicles. And, once the list started in my head, I couldn't believe how many treasures I'd forgotten!

• Laughing with a friend so hard that one of you snorts
• the smell of fresh peaches in the summer
• the luxury of curling up with a book on a rainy day
• the sound of waves crashing against the shore
• the feel of the sun on your shoulders and the wind in your hair
• the taste and cool comfort of a grape popsicle (or a push-up!)
• the feel of walking barefoot through the grass
• or, how 'bout letting mud squish between your toes!
• the intoxicating warmth of holding hands with someone you love
• the sound of a kid's belly laugh
• the intimacy of bread broken with friends
• what happens in your head and your heart when THAT song comes on the radio

See, the list goes on and on. I'm still working on mine and I'd LOVE to hear some of your Big Little Things. This is another one ... just watch and I'll bet you can remember the last time you did this! Go to www.youtube.com/watch?v=yNy9jTeolUk

Better yet, stop what you're doing and savor one of those little things. Not just as a memory, but as a now moment. Hold your baby's hand, walk through the lawn barefooted, invite a friend over (or out) for dinner, share a laugh together with someone special ... go ahead and snort. What we find is that we're sharing life. Life will never be buried underneath the list of things to be done and life will never be better once we're done with those things. Life IS those things ... and what we make of them and who we do them with or for as we go along this journey.

Jesus' promise to us is that in His coming to us, to be with us and just like us, we could know the abundance in life that God intended for all of creation. Abundance isn't a quantity issue as much as it's a quality issue. And, grape popsicles or a trip through the sprinkler or holding hands with someone you love is as rich as it gets. My guess is that if you'll work on a list of the Big Little Things in your life, you'll discover just how rich you are!

Hidden Beauty

I learned something today that makes me just plain mad. Did you hear? The little girl who stood so confidently before the world Friday night at the opening of the Olympics, ushering in children who represented every cultural faction of China was actually a pint-sized milli-vanilli. Lin Miaoke was lip-synching with her perfect pony-tails while the little girl who was really singing with her precious and strong voice was hidden from the world because she wasn't cute enough! At 7, Yang Peiyi has the voice but the packaging isn't right, so we push her to pretend she is something that she is not, expect her to hide herself because she's not enough.

What makes me even madder is Anne Curry's response as the story was reported on the Today Show, broadcasting from Beijing. The video loop finished with a full-face picture of the hidden girl with a shy smile and slightly downcast eyes. And Curry promptly says, "I think she's cute."

It's not about being cute! It's not about being cute enough or presentable or acceptable. It's about each of us, every one of us being valued for who we are! Why wasn't her clear, powerful voice enough to invite her to sing to the world? What lesson will each of those girls learn about their own value as human beings? You're pretty enough, but just stand there ... we don't need to hear from you. You sing like a bird, but, well, those teeth ...

I was (who am I kidding, I still am) one of those girls ... you know, never quite together. A hint of a cowlick here, a pimple there, braces on my teeth, pudge everywhere and worried about who might notice or care. There have been moments in my growing up - and I'm still doing that, by the way - when the evaluation and approval of others was/is of ultimate importance. And, thankfully, there are other moments when I can celebrate that I am who I am and the little things like pimples (still) or arm flab don't define me. I'm not defined by my lack of athleticism or a huge vocabulary, just like you're not defined by the vocation you pursue or your birth order position. These things about me and you (that grow out of comparison with someone else, really) are not mistakes ... they just are.

Don't get me wrong, I haven't arrived at some enlightened place where it no longer bothers me when you disapprove. I'm just saying that I've had and have good folks in my life who remind me that I'm more than my appearance or my choices or my abilities ... and lack thereof. I hope these little girls have someone in their lives to tell them much more that "I think you're cute!" I hope that you have someone in your life who encourages you to stop hiding yourself for fear of not being enough. My prayer is that each of us not only can come to grips with our own pricelessness but also of one another, even and especially in our difference. In her book, Looking for God, Nancy Ortberg cautions us with this wisdom: "The reason molds work so well for Jell-O is that gelatin is a substance without form of its own. But people aren't like that, or at least we shouldn't be. Molds are rigid, predetermined boundaries that create shape but leave no room for movement. Great for Jell-O, disastrous for people."

I believe there's a deep truth that you and I need to hear, to be reminded of, and to embrace:

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Wonderful are your works; that I know full well. Psalm 139:14

My hope is this: that Lin and Yang, and every other little boy and girl in this world can hear and believe the truth that they matter just because they are. And, that you know and appreciate yourself full well as an amazing creation, wonderfully made (pimples, arm flab and all!).

Pretty Evil

The painting is Salome Dancing before Herod by Gustave Moreau. It's beauty and bold statement took my breath the first time I saw it, when a portion of the Armand Hammer museum exhibit traveled to Memphis. I encourage you to look at it in closer detail than what this picture/post may allow.

Hang with me while I give you the backstory to my sharing this painting with you. I'll get back to it.

I just returned from a week-long continuing education event that was quite disappointing to say the least. There were wonderful moments sprinkled through the six days that felt like a hundred. One of those? Experiencing "The Dark Knight" on an IMAX screen with a group of friends and colleagues. (There's something fabulously weird about being face-to-face with a 5-story tall Batman jumping off buildings!) Our animated conversation at the close of the movie was about lines and moves and surprises and special effects. And, without fail, we all had a strong response to The Joker. Ledger did an amazing job of creating, presenting a character that was larger than the actor playing the part. And, as weird as it sounds, I rather liked The Joker. He had a strong grasp of the truth, lived from a place of understanding that was boldly discomforting but attractive to everyone - those characters in the movie with him and those of us watching from our seats. Our conversation included the question of what drives the darkness of The Joker - some pain from his past, perhaps, or pure evil?

Pan to the painting by Moreau. If you took a moment to look, the opulence of the scene is unmistakable and intoxicating. Did you connect with the story Moreau is translating for us: Salome dancing before her step-dad/uncle in honor of his birthday. He was so taken by the performance that he popped his mouth off before he thought and offered the girl a reward of up to half of all he had. Young and unprepared for the spot she was in (who would be?), she deferred to her mother's guidance. Since her mother hated John the Baptist for telling the bold, hard truth about the life she was living, she told the girl to ask for John's head ... and she did. (Matthew 14:1-11, the Sandra translation)

Did you notice the panther in the bottom right corner of the painting? Sleek and beautiful, powerful ... and waiting like a panther waits. What struck me when I saw Moreau's work for the first time is that evil is just like that. Beautiful, powerful, sleek (or, slick), and waiting for our moments of weakness, blindness, ignorance, misplaced good intentions, self-absorption, denial, fear, ... Sometimes, it seems, evil pounces on us with no provocation; sometimes we invite it in as if we didn't know what we were messing with. Maybe we don't.

If evil always looked like The Joker, we'd know right away to steer clear because of it's ugliness. But what it evil acts like the Joker - wise or funny or promising or weirdly attractive? All the more reason for us to not get so caught up in the dance, performing it or watching it, that we're not aware of the panther in the room and its true nature. No need to stop dancing or finding joy in the beauty of it all, no need to be afraid ... just don't pet the panther, if you get my drift.