Happy Easter!

or, Jesus was a good egg.

Happy Easter! So on Sunday, the Easter Bunny left lots of candy eggs for the little children to find....No? OK, so on Sunday, we celebrate Easter by gathering as a family and eating a big ham and lots of jelly beans...Still no? So, on Sunday, we do nothing. NO?! Well what does it mean then?

For me, Easter is a beautiful celebration of hope and renewal. Because I follow Jesus, Easter marks the remembrance of his resurrection. It is a key story in the Bible where women are featured as important witnesses to his unbelievable recovery. It is a reminder to me of the hope and new life that I find in my faith.

But what does this have to do with eggs?, I wondered, as I watched my nieces run around the yard, seeking out their bright treasure-filled plastic eggs. You can read some of the Easter egg history here. Interesting, yeah? Especially the history of the egg in multiple belief systems. Some symbols are too powerful for one story.

I think Jesus was a good egg (slang for a good person). He stood up to the powerful, and stood up for the weak in his society. He reminded people not to be so hasty to judge and condemn others (even awful people like women, the sick, the tax collectors, and Samaritans). He broke the rules of organized religion. He loved people. He wanted people to know him and to know God in new and radical ways. He taught that there are blessings to be found in our weakest situations. He led by serving.

I would like to be more like Jesus.

He is risen. Let there be...new life, renewal, hope, and faith.

Happy Easter!

Spring in my Valley

Welcome, Spring. Welcome, brisk breezes that smell of pollen and green and wet earth. Welcome, birdsong. Welcome, sun on my face. Welcome, flowers and grass and leaves.

A moveable fast

Lent begins today, with Ash Wednesday. In previous years, I've considered carefully what to give up or release for Lent. Usually it has involved giving up shopping, books, doughnuts, or other things I dearly, dearly love. Sometimes it has meant adding extra Calculated Acts of Kindness or shedding yucky old habits. This year I am stumped. And unmotivated. And sluggish.

But I like this phrase, "a moveable fast." It speaks to the crossroads where I find myself this year. It accommodates a shifting of priorities. It allows for the change-up of my ideas about what it means to be faithful, to be in relationship with God, to be a Christ-follower. It makes room for me to be a person of depth and thoughtfulness, even when I don't feel deep or thoughtful. It reflects the sense that there is something unrooted and undecided. It allows me to adjust the fast, the sacrifice, to where I am now.

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I've had the sense lately that simplicity is knocking on my door. I usually get an urge to clean-sort-discard in the springtime. But this feels different. It feels MORE. (Ha. More simplicity.) It's like I've got a different want/need button in my brain. A smaller one, that takes longer to activate. I dig it, though. It's a good thing. But I haven't figured out what I want to do with this new guest yet.

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Sacrificing complexity and excess? Sounds about right for this year's moveable fast.

Are you in a season of sacrifice? What are you called to give up or make right?

Celebrating

Tomorrow is my birthday, and today I celebrate:

• Doughnuts and cupcakes and treats, oh my! My sweet tooth is happy. (And my dentist loves my teeth, so no nagging about cavities.)
• A day off work tomorrow!
• A brand new book for my day off work.

Tomorrow I celebrate:

• A date with a friend for lunch.
• A date with myself for the afternoon.
• A date with TH for dinner.

But perhaps most importantly, every day, I celebrate my life. I like myself. I like this body, this mind, this heart, this soul. I'm proud of who I am and who I've been and who I'm becoming. I like this life that I live everyday, that touches others and struggles and triumphs. I like this circle of friends, this love of my life, this family. I like this work that inspires and frustrates and creates opportunities and opens doors. I like this leisure time, filled with music and cute shoes and friends and spirit-seeking and books and good food. I like life.

Happy Birthday to me!

Quiet moments of victory

Sometimes when I least expect it, life sneaks a laurel crown onto my head.

Lately my most deeply satisfying moments have been small and all-but-overlooked. Case in point: when I started my current job on a college campus in student disability services, I was fresh out of counseling grad school. I knew in my bones that my gifts included a way to make new connections, to form community, and to weave bonds between campus departments. I wanted to start seeing the campus consider disability as a matter of course, not as an afterthought. I wanted to empower other departments to think of disability as part of diversity, and as a result of their connections with me and my office. I wanted to make the most of my job and my education.

Almost 5 years later, I am seeing fruit. A colleague in a department with whom I've been cultivating connection stopped me in the hall today and let me know she advised a public relations rep to include a Deaf student and signing in a video representing campus diversity. She did not ask my advice, nor that of my department - the idea came to her on its own, and she spoke up at a key time. It was a deeply satisfying moment.

I wonder where I got the idea that success comes quickly, and is loud and shines golden, lighting up me and all those around me? It's such a myth, this fast and flashy Nike. More important is the slow and steady work of building: block by steady, dull, dusty block. And waiting. And staying committed.

And staying present for the quiet moments, when Nike actually shows up.