That's Just Life, Boo

I honest to goodness can't think of much else I love more than Sunday mornings at this house. Or wherever home happens to be on a given Sunday morning (it seems to be changing a lot these days!). Dad always prefers the earliest service, a preference that works conveniently with our "high gear" plan of attack for painting and moving into our new home. So a 7:30 7:55 a.m. wake up call it was. Emily is right every time: getting out of the bed is the hardest part. I realized today that it's mostly my favorite morning because everyone is getting ready together-- so I can use Em's hair dryer and Mom's perfume and sit with Dad to drink coffee (he always has the most down time).

"What were we thinking with the early service. Let's just go later and get back in bed..." I moan between sips. Mom scoots in the kitchen, hair as unkempt as the rest of us (Dad's an outlier), eyes squinted, head nodding, pointing in my direction as if my thought solidified where breath vanished.

We aren't morning people.

The doctors chime in about how it's best and "c'mon, just get started" and inevitably, unconsciously that Tracy Morgan Brian Fellow line slips off someone's tongue: "Let's get goooiiiiinnggg." We scatter. There's splashing and singing and brushing and blow drying and the faint hum of the Dr. Mario wii game as Dad has yet time to spare. He gets serious about getting ready around 'bout the time he gives us the fifteen minute warning, which can be truly alarming if you aren't yet to blow drying, but only for those people with hair (which, at this point, technically includes Truett because that dude has some hair). The three dogs bounce back and forth between bathrooms like ping pong balls in an epic tournament a la Forrest Gump.

We encourage each other.

"I'll put the dogs up!" "Your hair looks great!" "Mom, I like that outfit!" "Look at my beautiful girls!" "Anyone seen my Bible? ... Yeah! Its..." There are "thank yous" to accompany each bit, however tiny, of encouragement or help.

I think I noticed it especially this morning, these little interactions, because it's just an extension of life over the past couple of days. Painting and house stuff can get tedious and daunting and frustrating when you cannot, for the life you, get that stupid line straight. Or you can't get the right color. Or when fan blades don't fit the fan. Or when the outlet tries to kill shocks you. We cope by giving each other shout outs.

"You're doing so good, Sadie!" "Good job, Mom!" "I'm running to Lowes, does anybody need anything?" "Can I fix anyone a drink? It's looking great!"

(My response to that last one, whilst already slapping on the first coat of paint in the master bedroom, was "Momma. I will paint your bedroom for you if you get me some Sweet Tea.")

We may be overcompensating for the amount of work with the amount of support dished out, but we'd rather be safe than sorry. Meaning we'd rather be overly kind than cranky-- that's just not the saying. And it doesn't always work out this way in other times of life, this generosity with the compliments and gratitude. There's just something about Sunday mornings and big projects that bring it out in full force. (No wonder it's these times that we miss the Smith family 2.0 so much).

When there's a task at hand-- be it getting to church on time (ish) or a dining room in need of some lime green paint-- we do what we know best to get it done. That's life.

I have the opportunity to nanny this summer in Little Rock for a family I've known almost 6 years. They have a pool and some super soakers and a buncha water balloons and so I basically get paid to be a kid (that is also like a mom and like a maid). Jennifer Francis pointed out to me that I'm living so rough this summer. It is hard when the boys want to play in the front yard with water balloons but that means leaving the nice pool in the backyard. All of this conflict, I can't stand it!

Seriously, though, I learn so much from a 9 and 6 year old that I just couldn't get at a desk job-- things that are truly important to conceptualize and know and hold onto as I do this journeyman process that I might only grasp when coming from elementary minds. I think God knows this about me-- and so I am extremely grateful for this time to learn to use my time and my thoughts diligently. I don't always do it gracefully or with great tact (or, as evidenced by my mostly empty journal for the month of May, at all), this mindful note taking during God's teaching moments with me.

Each time I return to my commitment to pay attention, to "look with your eyes," as little me admonished Dad long ago, I begin by apologizing to God for my leave of absence. What I realized especially this past time is that, as sorry as I am to God for disregarding the purpose He gives my days, I'm mostly sorry because I miss out when I don't try at all. So imperfect as my pursuit may be of finding and applying biblical principles in daily life, it beats the heck out of indifference.

So there I am Thursday afternoon, in the middle of my hard life, lounging on the sofa whilst the boys play the Kung Fu panda game. The eldest boy, Jackson loves to play in versus mode, challenging his brother to a duel. But a fight to the death between a 6 and 9 year old doesn't bode well for a certain younger brother. Every time Parson gets defeated and every time he asks that they play as a team against the bad guys but every time Jackson most desires the thrill of winning, even though it has to get old after the 65th time, right? He loves the duel, because he knows he'll come out on top. Everything is a competition at this stage of their brotherhood, which must get exhausting for a little brother with very little battles to win.

"JACKSON!!!!!" Parson yells. I look over with disapproval of his tone. Little brother eyes catch mine. "...please," he offers, and I nod. "Please go easy on me." The round isn't over yet, so his plea is quick and desperate. The life meter blinks red, more urgent with every new punch. Older brother pays no regard, will not relent. "PLEASE!!!"

"I can't go easy on you," Jackson begins to explain with all of the wisdom he can muster from his 9 years. "That's just life, boo." The truly charming pet name is meant to offer sensitivity to an otherwise rigid, tough, tried and true concept-- life isn't fair.

Later, in the pool, I sit quietly, bemoaning my unfortunate station I suggest to the boys that they time my lap. Oh, but life is a competition. I can't swim for individual performance's sake-- there have to be clear stakes of winning and losing. Jackson challenges me. "I'll race ya!"

"Alright," I concede. "On the count of three. One, two..."

"But MISS SADIE," his tone is urgent, as if to catch me before my attention zeroes in on the finish line. Who does he think I am, Michael Phelps?

"Yeah, bud?"

"Go easy on me."

The irony isn't lost on me. The mighty age of nine loses its advantage when up against 21. It's easy to brush it off as "just life" until "just life" happens to you, and it costs you the backyard championship title of "faster than Sadie." (Which, coincidentally, isn't that grand of an achievement since I'm pretty out of shape and a terrible back-stroker). The sad news is that I didn't really need to go that easy on him to level out the playing field. Money well spent on those swim lessons, Simmons parents.

I used the moment to explain Parson's thoughts on playing versus on the Wii and how its just not as fun when you come up the loser.

The competitive stuff is, for now, just a phase. And it is important to note that these boys genuinely adore each other when it comes down to it. I also realize that there is such thing as healthy competition and learning to be a good sport.

But, if we aren't careful, this competition seeps into adult life, well beyond the phase in which it belongs. It isn't confined to areas of healthy competition or channeled into a Wii game. It becomes a mindset that keeps us from enjoying others doing their best because we get busy thinking of how we'll measure up. When you're nine and you want to race your babysitter in a swim competition, that's one thing. But then what happens when you grow up and get so caught up in winning at life that you forget to encourage others along in it? We enter a day like Jackson enters a round-- if life is measured by win or lose, we want to look good winning. So then we pick comfortable battles that we know we can win by ourselves-- like a 9 year old challenges a 6 year old-- even though that has to get old, right? Battles that we may have the upper hand in from our vantage point, but that look downright silly to One who sees the situation for what it really is-- like the 21 year old who sees the 65 games of versus as the desperate attempt at glory and bragging rights that it really is.

But that's just life, boo. Victory for some, defeat for others. You just have to deal.

Do we? Because all I see in this lifelong back and forth, these versus rounds we get ourselves into with other people, these settling situations we put ourselves in because we know we can win them, is pride on one side and distress on the other. What if life could be a bit more like Parson's preferred model. "Let's just play us against the bad guys." What if we teamed up, us against the challenges of life. What if Christians stopped thinking of non-Christians as "bad guys." What if we stopped sizing people up as competition?

Oh, I beat her in looks.
Oh, she's so much smarter than me.
I cannot be as friendly as her.
I can't believe she got that car.
Girls take way longer to get ready.
Sadie got a spot on the ceiling again. I could do this so much better.

No, I don't think the winning and the losing is just life. I don't think we have to take on projects that we can finish in our own ability. I think people are better and worse at certain things, for sure. I think there will be better and worse times. Richer and poorer people. Healthy and sick people. But I don't think we have to be against each other.

What I love about a Sunday morning or a home project is that my family members are with each other. We are members-- parts that form a whole only when working together. That's life, boo. Part of what entices me into mission work is that I'm not content to sit and watch it work for this family, taking in the benefits of that for myself. I want it so badly for the world around me, that cohesion. That support and encouragement.

I want my non-Christian friends to know that my value is not contingent on how well--or not well-- they're living their lives and how much better I can do. My worth is not in comparison to their supposed non-worth as "worldly sinners." My holy life is not in mighty contrast to their unholy life. That, friends, I am finding, is entering myself into a game I know I can win by my own standards. But my value is through Christ. My worth in him is only in comparison to my own non-worth as a worldly sinner. My holy life, the one I strive for so imperfectly, is in contrast to my unholy life that I only really began noticing when God illuminated it with grace.

God, the metaphorical 21 year old who must shake his head at these competitions we've set up so we can win. Or worse, so we can make others lose. These competitions we've passed off as life, when he knows, he knows that's not life.

And He says it again and again in his word. Just as my disapproving looks are supposed to warn Parson of his hateful tone and express displeasure with Jackson's self-serving spirit.

^"8 But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. ⁹ For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. ¹⁰ He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. ¹¹ Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

¹² Now we ask you, brothers and sisters, to acknowledge those who work hard among you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you. ¹³ Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. Live in peace with each other. ¹⁴ And we urge you, brothers and sisters, warn those who are idle and disruptive, encourage the disheartened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. ¹⁵ Make sure that nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always strive to do what is good for each other and for everyone else.

¹⁶ Rejoice always, ¹⁷ pray continually, ¹⁸ give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. ¹⁹ Do not quench the Spirit. ²⁰ Do not treat prophecies with contempt ²¹ but test them all; hold on to what is good, ²² reject every kind of evil. ²³ May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. ²⁴ The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it."

-1 Thessalonians 5: 8-24

That's life, boo. And self, you've got to be living it.