Presence

Crabby Day

March 15, 2017

I am crabby.

I am crabby because I hurt my thumb peeling an orange this morning. Who does that? Also, we didn’t refinance our mortgage soon enough and rates keep going up.

These are very middle class reasons to feel crabby.

I am trying to be present, to be here at the kitchen table on a sunny day in this quiet house. The bulbs I planted last autumn are coming up in the front yard. There is green out there again.  But I all too easily forget the green and switch to the news on my phone.  This is not a good idea.

The news reinforces my crabbiness. There doesn’t seem to be much that’s positive- just endless stories that remind me of the nightmare that started January 20.  Today (well, actually a few weeks ago now), President Trump decided that President Obama’s clean water rules were “horrible” and needed to be gutted.  Apparently, clean water is very bad. Also, undocumented immigrants were rushing to get passports for their children who were born here, so they will be able to stay even if their parents are deported.

That breaks my heart.

So, sometimes on days like this the best thing I can do is take my crabby self for a walk. Outside, I finally remember to breathe.  It is a small thing.  Sometimes on a crabby day, that is the best I can do.

 

 

Success

If the President Met Jesus on the Road to Damascus

March 7, 2017

I wonder what would happen if President Trump had a Damascus Road conversion experience. I keep thinking about the Apostle Paul, whose name was Saul for a time.  He was a leader, just like Trump. He was a little crabby, just like Trump.  But there was a day, an ordinary day, when he set out on the road with a plan (get to Damascus and arrest people who follow this joker Jesus) and suddenly, inexplicably found himself face to face with Jesus himself.  “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” Jesus said.

Saul the murderer fell to the ground and was struck blind. His traveling companions had to lead him by the hand the rest of the way to Damascus. For three days he couldn’t see and didn’t eat or drink. When he got his sight back, he went on to change the world.  He started preaching that Jesus was the Son of God after all. He received death threats himself. Lots of them. This apparently did not bother him.

Those three days of sightlessness made all the difference. One day, he wanted to arrest people who followed Jesus. Less than a week later, he joined them.  He set out for Damascus thinking he could see. On the road he was struck blind and found true sight.

I would love to see something like this happen to President Trump.

In a post-Damascus conversion world, the president might begin to give away his money. He would gleefully start writing anonymous checks to organizations that house the homeless, care for fragile senior citizens, sponsor plays and concerts and educate poor children.  He would be too busy serving people to Tweet on Saturday nights.  He would go for a hike and sleep in a tent and realize that the earth is beautiful and worth loving and protecting. He might tire of all the gold accents in his apartment and private jet. Maybe he would invite refugees to dinner at the White House and listen to them. The woman with the brain tumor who was picked up by immigration authorities? He would visit her in the hospital, but secretly, so he didn’t get any attention for it.  Her story would touch him deeply.

There’s no shortage of potential Biblical role models for the president. How about Zacchaeus, the wealthy tax collector and short fellow that met Jesus in Luke 19? Trump could copy Zacchaeus and pay back anyone he had ever cheated 4 times what he owed them.  After meeting Jesus, Zacchaeus also joyfully promised to give half his possessions to the poor.  If Trump started to channel the Apostle Paul and Zacchaeus, he would be a serious force for good. He could become our Wall Destroyer and Giver in Chief.  His legacy would be one of wild conversion and fierce love.

This could happen. Stranger things take place everyday.

For now, though?  Maybe I should focus a little more on my own need for conversion. It’s easy to have suggestions for the president. It’s a little harder to look inside. What would happen to me on the road to Damascus? Where am I blind?   Clearly, the president is not the only one who could benefit from a life altering encounter with Jesus on the Damascus Road.  I’m right there with him.