2,880 Minutes Plus Some Change
A little over 2,880 minutes ago I got a last-minute call to sub in 8th grade math for half a day. It was the kids' first day with metal detectors and they were really made that they felt criminalized for bringing Bath and Body Works fragranced body mist with them. Sorry, I should explain. The machine mistakes it for vape. The machine thinks that "Twisted Mango Lagoon" is for vaping and the girls appalled. I tried to talk them down but I got a little frazzled by everyone coming in after I'd normally take attendance and, well, I forgot to do their homeroom socio-emotional learning assignment.
Four hundred and twenty minutes later I was backstage at the school talent show dress rehearsal pinning the straps on lederhosen and sending boys back to the dressing room because their button-down shirts were uneven.
Two thousand, one hundred minutes ago, I woke up suddenly at 4 a.m. on November 5th, heart pounding and a pit in my stomach. Maybe I'd had a bad dream that I had forgotten. Probably the one where I'm in Disneyland and we waste so much time that we don't end up going on any rides. Or maybe my body already knew that it was election day and I hadn't dropped off my ballot yet, and there was probably no good version of how this day could end. Maybe.
It was also Dan's birthday, and he was sick with a cold. So he stayed home from work but it wasn't any fun.
I didn't even bother to do my hair as I pulled on my blue Ron Swanson shirt and my red kicks so that no one could figure out for sure who I was voting for (or which gang I might be affiliated with for that matter). I pulled into my polling place and made my way past the MAGA hats, and the signs that said "Kamala: Endorsed by Gangs" (they didn't say which ones). And past the sweet, little lady that looked like the grandma in the Tweetee bird cartoons with a huge ultrasound picture, urging me to "save the babies", and past the big "Stop Project 2025" booth with the deceptively red tablecloth. I would smile and nod at everyone while keeping my feet moving and my face forward. I did not want to be recognized with my wet hair and minimalistic makeup with the sleep deprived bags under my eyes. I noted the disgusted look on the poll ladies face when I showed her that I had a mail in ballot that had not, indeed been mailed in. Or blow dried my hair. I'm kind of bummed they didn't get to my ballot until after the election was called, but I mostly care about school board and some local propositions and shady judges anyway, so there's that.
Over the next, 1,440 minutes a lot of very strange stuff happened.
There was a horrible tragedy a few miles from where I was driving in which an airplane crash landed into a CAR. On Monday I had a kid tell me that "it's more likely to be struck by lightning than having someone bring a gun to school." I don't think that's accurate. But I am sure that the driver of that car would have never dreamt of being hit by a plane. Five people died. It's such an unspeakable tragedy and the kind of thing that makes my sprawling city of 504,000 people much smaller. Sometimes it doesn't matter what the "chances" are. I still remember how, after Moses' diagnosis in 2004 with a VERY rare form of pediatric cancer, I spent a full year waiting for the other shoe to drop. It doesn't take much to start making you wonder if you're the 1 in 10,000 that the lightning seemed to be aiming for.
During that same 1,440 minutes we participated in what might have been one of the most bizarre elections in US history. If they are still teaching history in school in 20 or 30 years our grandkids or great grand kids will probably have some pretty serious questions for us. And they will probably start with the phrase, "Am I reading this right?" Mark my words.
During those 1,440 minutes we ate In and Out Burgers, animal style for Dan's birthday. He sat on the couch with a box of tissues. And I went for a walk because no one should eat such a filling meal and then sit and listen to the associated press for the next six hours without going for a walk. Or texting your bestie.
The whole day just felt surreal.
Then, six hundred and sixty hours ago I woke up on November 6th. And yes, the first thing I did was reach for my phone. I know we're not supposed to start our day like that. But before I even knew who our next president would be, I read a post from another allergy mom friend. Chick fil A has changed their recipe for fries, and they now will include PEA STARCH. Why??? Pea is not one of the top 8 and therefore not necessarily highlighted on menus and allergy warnings. But it has tried to kill Moses at least three times now. Once again, my morning started with a horrible rush of dread-induced adrenaline. What if? What if? What if? We routinely pull through and grab Moses "safe" fries. I could have dropped him off with a bag of fries and headed out on errands. Or grabbed some to eat on the road out of town? Had him gobble some up on his way to call time before the musical tomorrow. I tried to remind myself that we had NOT indeed been hit by lightning.
And it started to really hit me, that the most important things to me are happening within my own walls, and my own city, family, church. My kids' schools.
This Sunday I'm preaching on I Peter 2. If you're needing some encouragement, I hope you come. Peter is one of the most misused and weaponized books/letters I know of. If you're not sure why go ahead and read it. But this chapter isn't endorsing slavery and misogyny. At any time. These were never worldviews Christians were to embrace. It's not a book forbidding us from using our voice or doing our part to change systemic abuses of power. What it really offers us is a counter-cultural way of reacting when we, as an imitator of Christ, find ourselves in a moment where things are outside of our control.
In every situation we have things we can change (because I do believe in free will and responsibility) and we have things we cannot change. We can change OUR behaviors, be mindful of our words, stay so above reproach that we give others no receipts when it comes to reasons to mistreat us. As one first lady once said, "When they go low, we go high."
We cannot control the actions, feelings, and thoughts of others. Even God doesn't do that. We are much happier people once we recognize those things that are completely outside of our control right now. I am thankful that I trust in a Savior who can work even the messiest of situations into something good, even if I don't know what that will look like on this side of eternity.
It is okay if life feels chaotic right now. I'd love to talk.
*Cute picture is of my precious boys doing what was in their control...visiting the office of Sen. John McCain in 2015 to tell his staffers all about pediatric melanoma. Back when we were kinder to each other.
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