A Good Boss

I don't supervise a lot of people--a couple of full-time employees, a handful of part-time workers, several students. But I've been a boss for a couple of decades now, and I've had a boss for a lot longer than that, and the most truthful thing I've learned about bosses through all those years has been this:

A good boss can deal with anything, as long as he/she knows about it.

Over the years I've had to let my boss know I've screwed up many (many) times. The time I wrote a personality profile that inadvertently slandered the ex-president of our organization. The time I mis-read a statistic and the subsequent brochure had to be discarded because I passed the mis-reading along in print. The time I didn't catch an error and the wrong telephone number was published in an important document. I could go on and on until the internet ran out of room for cataloging my mistakes.

People who work for me have made mistakes, too. They've designed artwork that was the wrong size, and spec-ed the wrong color, and on one memorable occasion, faked photography with a non-functioning camera.

But I've learned from my good bosses how a good boss deals with mistakes: We shake our heads a couple of times, maybe roll our eyes, then we say "So what's the solution for this?" and we move on, expecting that the person has learned a lesson and will doublecheck the statistic for the next publication.

I try to find out where the mistake originated--was I distracted or stressed? Was my employee undertrained or cutting corners? Then, as long as the underlying cause wasn't intentional or a lack of integrity, I move on.

It occurs to me that humans often make the mistake of thinking God is not a good boss.

"If I do something wrong," they say to themselves, "God won't love me any more. He might even tell me I'm not good enough for His kingdom. So I won't tell Him the mistakes I've made, and He won't know."

Eventually they accumulate so many unconfessed sins that they convince themselves God couldn't cope with such a terrible person, and they wander away from Him.

Or they tell God about the mistake, but aren't really interested in not making the mistake again. "God, I'm sorry I gossiped," they pray in the morning, gleefully looking forward to lunch break when they'll repeat the same sin.

God wants us to tell Him about our mistakes and ask for forgiveness, and if we are sincerely trying to find out where our mistakes originated and fix the problem, He joyfully forgives. He promised in Psalm 103:12 that He'll take those mistakes and send them "as far as the east is from the west."

God can deal with anything we tell Him about. God is a good boss.

Sorrowing Mothers

Photo from The Telegraph

I was an elderly first-time mother.

No, I'm not being self-deprecating--this was the official diagnosis from my wonderful obstetrician. In fact, he teased me as he congratulated Husband and me on our new stage in life.

"Get ready," he said. "You have 18 years of worrying in front of you."

"Great," I thought. "I'll be 50 years old by the time I'm able to stop worrying."

You're laughing at me now, aren't you? All of us whose children have entered the age of majority know that there's nothing magical about the age 18. We continue to worry about our children, even as we have less control over their actions and circumstances.

Right now I seem to have an uncommon number of friends whose newly-grown children are in crisis. They're fighting the demons of mental illness, struggling with health issues, dealing with unemployment or debt or loneliness.

Last week one of those mothers had her arm around my waist as she talked about the iconic mothers of the Bible.

"I think about Mary and Elizabeth, and how excited they were when their babies were born," my friend said, "telling each other 'blessed are we among women!'"

But then, both of these mothers saw their sons endure pain that was physical, emotional, and spiritual, before suffering humiliating deaths. The number of tears they must have shed is unimaginable.

"They had to watch that, and they couldn't do anything about it," this friend said. "They just had to have faith in God's plan and know that He was working in the lives of their sons."

And of course,  the work God was doing was divine, and the humiliating deaths turned into triumphant work for His kingdom.

Today I'm praying for all mothers of adults who are suffering, that these mothers' faith in God's plan would be strong and shining, even through their tears.

The Perfect Accompanist

Last week, when Boy#3 presented his trombone recital in Small Town, I was at the piano. I had been his accompanist since he started taking lessons in fourth grade, and he is such a sweetie that he wanted me on the bench one last time now that he's graduating from college with a performance degree.

Unfortunately, I am not a great piano player. I'm okay, and I will completely own the fact that I am an AWESOME sightreader. But my best asset as a pianist is that I'm willing to do it, not that I embody brilliance at the keyboard.

Three knew this, and he chose pieces to play at his hometown recital that mostly catered to my semi-competence. A couple of Handel pieces, another selection that was unaccompanied. But the final piece, the show-stopper, was hard. (Or, as I whined to Husband, it was HAAAAAAARD.)

I practiced and practiced and practiced, and still it was not perfect. On the night of the performance Three had to wait for me to catch up a couple of times, and I know that he didn't sound as good as he could have. He was supporting me instead of the other way around. But we ended at the same time so I called the performance a success.

A few days later Three gave his senior recital at his own university, this time with a professional accompanist. She was quite simply amazing. Taking the same notes I had practiced, she was in control of the music and played it perfectly. As a result, Three was freed to just play without worrying whether she could keep up or would know what to do, and his own performance was elevated immeasurably.

It struck me that this contrast is a good illustration of my spiritual life.

I have chosen to follow God, the One who is in control, perfect, and loves me without limit. And in spite of KNOWING that He is in control, perfect, and loves me without limit, I sometimes feel I need to support God, as if He weren't playing His part perfectly. I don't use the gifts He's given me as fully as I could or should because I am not trusting that He's doing His part to support me.

Isn't that ridiculous? If I lean on the non-divine aspects of my life there's always the chance they'll let me down. My job, my talents, my family and friends--they're wonderful, and I love each of these, but they can't be perfect. Only God frees me to do my absolute best, without worry that He won't be able to do His part or fulfill His promises.

I need to lean on him--He's the perfect accompanist.

Across the Divide

I'll start this *cross-posting with an Andy Rooney-ism:

Have you ever noticed how the words "woe" and "woo" are only separated by one letter? No? How about now?

WOOOOOOO!

WOOOOOOE!

It's a difference that's just about as thin as the margin of victory/defeat that separated my WOO! friends from my WOE! friends. If you read social media at all, though, you would never, ever know this.

WOO! my blue friends say. "Woo! for four more years! And increased prosperity! And peace among all nations! And bluebirds and happiness!"

WOE! my red friends say. "Woe! for four more years! And bankrupting of the nation! And national weakness! And good intentions paving the road to hell!"

Well, in this post that already has just about worn out my caps lock, I have one more capitalized sentiment that sums up my post-election reaction:

PEOPLE! STOP IT!

The bottom line is that the United States is an enormous ship, and one person will not change the course of this ship. Electing either candidate would not have meant instant change; that is something that will  happen only slowly and only by all of us working together. Or if not all of us, a whole lot more of us working together than are working together right now.

So if you liked the results of this election, you'd better be talking with the people on the losing side--winning them over, and not just winning. This winning over will not occur through superior attitudes and clubbing about of the head and shoulders of those who did not win.

If you did not like the results of this election, you'd better be talking with the people on the winning side--because standing there with your fingers in your ears saying "I can't hear you" is not working. Not for your views, and not for your country.

Fortunately, win or lose, woo or woe, the sun came up this morning and we have another chance to do this whole messy process again, and to do it better next time.

Also, God is in control.


*In the academic world where I work, a cross-posted course is one that can be taken for credit in two different departments. "The History of Mathematics" might count to fulfill requirements in both history and mathematics, for example. If I were giving credit for reading my blogs, I'd give credit to people who read because I'm an empty nester and to people who read because I love God.

Faith As Sudoku

Every single morning I do the sudoku in our newspaper.

I know! Who is this woman, the one would do the crossword, and sometimes the Jumble, but never the sudoku because that was too haaaaard! and it was nuuuuumbers! and waaaaaah! why did everyone love this so much?

It was about a year ago, though, that I realized if all the people in my life loved sudoku this much I must be missing something, so I'd try doing it. The first time I did it it was still hard, and I didn't like it much. In fact, the second and third and fortieth time it was hard and I didn't like it so much. But then something clicked. I got the logic, I got that if these two numbers are here in the puzzle, they couldn't be used there. 

This morning as I sat staring at the numbers, within a dozen squares of having the boxes filled, I realized that this little puzzle is a lot like my faith life.

I could go quite a ways on logic: This box could only be five or seven, and that box could only be five or seven, so the four has to go somewhere else.

But at a certain point all the logical boxes are filled in. This empty spot could be a two or a six or a seven,with no absolute certain way to decide. I have to close my eyes and fill in that box, then do the rest of the puzzle based on that decision. It won't be until the puzzle is finished that I will know if my choice for that square is right or wrong. That choice, though, affects every remaining square in the puzzle.

A lot of the choices I make in my faith life are based on logic. It is logical that all humans are called to be compassionate toward others, that we have purpose in life, that we are meant to care for those who have less than we do, that we should love. You'll find those logical choices in most faith choices.

But that certain point, when we have filled in these logical boxes, we must choose the one path to believe, and write that name in the pivotal box that will determine the rest of our eternity. Like a sudoku, we can't complete our puzzle without making a choice, a choice that cannot be "maybe."

I chose Jesus, and writing His name in my soul completed the puzzle.

Praying When You Don't Know What to Pray

My friend T is going through a rough patch right now.

Her grown-up son has been struggling with mental illness for several years, and T and her friends have prayed for him fervently through this see-saw struggle. He's better for a while, and things seem to be moving toward the happy ending we've prayed for, but then things go south and he's fighting his brain chemistry and poor choices once more.

Yesterday T called me. She was on the verge of tears--she didn't know how to help her son, she was tired of the struggle, the mental (and financial) strain were overwhelming.

"I don't even know what to pray any more," she told me.

I thought about that all day. The Bible clearly says that "You may ask anything in My name," John 14:14. But we all know God isn't telling us He'll give us everything we want, even if we ask for it. (If that were the case, I'd be married to that cute Costa Rican beach bum I met in the Peace Corps. He was an unemployed janitor and perhaps not the best choice as a life partner, no matter how well he danced. Somehow God knew.)

So what can we pray for when we don't know what to pray for?

We can pray for God's perfect will to be done. This, above all other prayers, is guaranteed to be answered because God cannot work against His own will. It was the prayer Christ prayed just before He was crucified, a good role model for our own prayers. "I don't want to do this," the Son told the Father, "but if You want me to, I will."

We can pray to see God's will unfolding. We don't always, you know. A sermon I heard years ago pointed out that the Old Testament's Leah didn't know why her husband didn't love her and died knowing she was not Jacob's favorite wife. What she didn't know was that God was working through her to establish the tribes of Israel. What a difference it might have made in her life if she had prayed to see how God was working, rather than praying for her husband to change. We can, however, pray for reminders that God is always at work.

We can pray for the grace of the Holy Spirit to hold us up through the difficult times. One of my favorite verses, II Corinthians 2:19, reminds us that "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Of course, we can (and should) pray for healing of the mind of T's son, that he would be able to find a job, that his financial needs would be met, all the things a mother wants for her child. None of these issues is small in the eyes of God. 

But even when words fail, God's plan will be completed, and in His will, we pray.