Don't Let the Car Fool You

It's funny to me how life throws laughter and tears at you often in the same moment. Yesterday I got in my car and heard "I'm Walkin'" by Fats Domino come on the radio. (here it is on youtube!) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMjnoaWnDZA
It made me smile, even as I sang along with the lyrics thinking of people I miss in my life, "I'm walking...I'm hoping that you come back to me. I'm lonely as I can be, I'm waiting for your company, I'm hoping that you come back to me....yes indeed." I sang to along, tapping the steering wheel, dancing (as much as you can in a car) and be-bopping along. It felt gloriously like summer, and I didn't care if anyone saw me singing to myself. I said a quiet prayer of gratitude for that moment of sunshine and fun and proceeded to buy a vegetarian burrito from Sharky's.

Not an hour later, I received an e-mail that brought a moment of solemnity and grief to my day.

Every once in a while, ACU sends out this "what's going on around campus" e-mail letter. I had received one earlier that day, which had a "With Sympathy" section. There were two people attached to ACU who had lost loved ones. One of them was my former Concepts of Heath and Fitness teacher. Her mother-in-law had died after an 18-month long battle with cancer. I felt a strange connection and immediately wrote her a short e-mail simply saying (for what it's worth) that I was sad to hear the news and praying for her family -- I especially wanted to say this because it had appeared to me, while in her class, that her family was particularly sweet and close. She responded with a very gracious and honest e-mail (which I read after eating my vegetarian burrito from Sharky's) about her connection to her mother-in-law and the pain her family was experiencing.

I haven't had anyone really close to me die. I don't know what it's like. And yet other important things in my life have "died". I've lost my church, New Life; said good-bye to, and lived far away from, many good friends and family; dealt with change I didn't want to face; felt confused, frustrated, exhausted and hurt... So, I suppose for these reasons, I really felt connected to her pain. Does that sound really self-centered and rude to anyone else? It does to me. How could I say I connect to her pain when I have no idea how she's really feeling? But I honestly couldn't help breathing in a bit of sorrow as I read: "We are deeply hurting, but rejoicing in the same breath. I hope I continue to carry her kind, christian spirit with me wherever I go. Thanks so much for taking the time to write."

I felt her resignation, exhaustion, and hope as if they were mine. And perhaps they are, in some strange way, shared. Perhaps when I experience pain or sorrow (or love or joy for that matter), I am simply dipping my toe into the pool of shared human experience. Perhaps we all are. Perhaps (I hope) I am, in some small way, living out Romans 12: Learning to, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn."

A few summers ago, I found myself comparing my life to my friend's life. Her life seemed so much better than mine and I was in danger of living in secret envy or bitterness. So I copied a large chunk of Romans 12 on a piece of cardboard and hung it on my wall. Reading it almost every day that summer really did help. It gave me the option to choose a less bitter, more humble and loving response to her success and joy. In turn, I was more content and found opportunities to gain success and joy for myself I might not have been open to, otherwise. Ever since then, I've tried to read Romans 12 to myself often, reminding me of the kind of person I want to be:

"Love must be sincere. Hate what is evil; cling to what is good. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves. Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with God's people who are in need. Practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay,"says the Lord. On the contrary:

"If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.
In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head." Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

A couple days ago, I was driving down Treadway Blvd. in Abilene and saw a bumper sticker on the back of an old car (I know very little about cars, but it looked kind of like my mother's old LeBaron we threw out in 1995). It was a bumper sticker I'd seen before, "Don't let the car fool you" it read, "my treasure is in heaven." "Who would put this bumper sticker on their car?" I wondered. As I drove by, I glanced at the driver. It was a woman who looked like a 60-year old child, eating a frozen ice-cream bar. There she was, driving down the street with her hair blowing in the wind, a crazy bumper sticker on her car, and she was eating an orange ice-cream bar. (Visions of Maude from "Harold and Maude" danced in my head.) Here was a lovely woman. She didn't have a great car, her hair didn't look perfect, but darn it, she was going to enjoy her ice-cream bar.

Sometimes life is not so great. Sometimes we experience pain and sorrow (and it really sucks) but I am inspired by the woman eating the ice-cream bar to embrace those hard moments of loss as well as the moments where Fats Domino sings. And when confronted with the option, to choose to bless and not curse. To overcome evil with good.