Sunday, June 10, 2007

• On Father's Day and my Latest Trip to Minnesota

  Currently Reading Book of Common Prayer (1979, Personal Size Economy, Black) By Church of England, The Episcopal Church see related

  "People were also bringing babies to Jesus to have Him touch them.  When the disciples saw this, they rebuked them.  But Jesus called the children to Him and said, 'Let the little children come to Me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.'" - Luke 18:15-17 (NIV)

  When I was a little kid, my dad used to let me sit on his lap and "drive."  There weren't any cops or really any other cars on the dirt Wisconsin backroads surrounding my family's summer cabin, and so, occasionally during those two glorious weeks of vacation, he would pull me into the driver's seat with him and let me grip the wheel, my head swelling with the importance of my responsibility to DRIVE.  THIS.  CAR.  Looking back, his feet were working the pedals and his hands never left the wheel.  But at the time I felt important and special and excited to be helping.

  I think God is a lot like my dad.  He doesn't need my help; In fact, I'm incapable of helping.  But He snuggles me between His chest and cosmic steering wheel and lets me feel like I'm driving things.  He invites me to pray and join Him in the work He is doing, and I feel important and special and excited to be helping.

  This past week, I was extremely privileged to feel a part of the work He is doing through Hope for the First Nations, my nonprofit on the White Earth Reservation in Minnesota.  I got home sometime in the wee hours of the morning and am still unpacking - both literally and figuratively.

  Author Ann Lamott often remarks that the best thing to do when you don't know what to do, both in life and in writing, is to start right where you are and flail around for a while until things start to make sense.

  I could be flailing a while trying to figure out what to do and write after this past week   It was indeed, as one team member predicted before we left, "one for the record books."  Even the drives up to the reservation and back were packed full of God moments (as well as a lot of bad music and Polish klutziness).  And usually that's just 30 hours of me reading the Book of Mormon over a walkie talkie.

  I'll write more as I flail and unpack.  In the meantime, please pray for the rest of the Hope for the First Nations team as they continue working on other parts of the reservation this week.

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