Unscripted
Holy Rollercoaster
This time of year always reminds me of the 6 am Easter service I attended as a kid. The entire Sieg family would wake up early and, with our eyes half open, prepare for worship at St. John’s of Antrim Township, the sister of our usual church. We attended that particular church on that particular day because Mom and Dad thought sunrise was the best time to observe Easter. Either that or it was the fresh egg bake and warm cinnamon rolls being served by the Ladies Aid afterward. My family would sit somewhere near the front-of-the-back of the church, where my sisters and I could show off our frilly, pastel-colored Easter dresses (if they weren’t under our winter jackets). And we could see that the rest of the congregation was also wearing the best of their Sunday bests. As worship began, joyful music ushered in the Pastor, who wore a white stole to signify the resurrection and the life. And the Easter lilies filled the chapel with wonderful hints of hope. Ah, Easter Sunday – a joyous time, indeed. And to think it wasn’t all that long ago that Jesus was on the rollercoaster known as the Lenten season. Today, Lent is usually observed by attending dark and somber Wednesday night services – right before you head over to Target for bright and beautiful Easter baskets filled with Jelly Bellies, Peeps and of course, Cadbury eggs. (Although, I’ve always thought the best thing about those eggs was actually the commercial). The famous Cadbury Egg commercial Once Easter arrives, it’s easy to forget that Jesus had just returned from history’s first-ever silent retreat in the wilderness. And when I say “wilderness,” I’m not talking about an Eddie Bauer tent and a self-inflating mattress, or an REI single-wall shelter, which even most Subaru drivers consider “roughing it.” I’m talking about the desert. Where the original Survivorman spent 40 days alone fasting, praying and resisting temptation. First, Satan told him to change a rock into bread and feed himself. Then he asked him to worship him in order to receive the kingdom. Next, Satan told Jesus to jump off a cliff and be saved by his father. Oh Satan, if you watched any Lifetime Movie Network at all, you would know Jesus’ family actually had a much more dramatic salvation in mind. So instead, Jesus told Satan to jump off a cliff. And a few days later, he received a wonderful homecoming as he rode into Jerusalem. Atop a donkey. People waved palm branches to welcome Jesus as a king. (I’m pretty sure they used them as donkey pooper scoopers as well. Hey – just because it’s not in the Bible doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.) Later in the week, Jesus made dinner plans with a bunch of his friends for Thursday night. Toasts were made, dinner was shared – and so were sentiments. To walk off the wine, Jesus took a quiet stroll in the garden. And that’s when the real trouble […]
Apr 9th, 2009 by Michelle Sieg
Shampoo. Rinse. Recite.
A few years back, I found this great illustration. It was tasteful, whimsical line art of a young woman in the shower. Drops of water fell from the showerhead onto her mop of squiggly blonde hair. I think it was in the back of Real Simple magazine or something. And all it said was “God grant me the power to get out of this shower.” It became my mantra. I posted the illustration near the shower in my own bathroom. The drawing is gone. But the sentiment remains. In fact, it’s become a bit of a mini-devotional for me each morning. And now it’s just part of the routine. Shampoo. Rinse. Recite. Lather. Rinse. Recite. Never mind the fact that I just tried to use a travel-sized bottle of conditioner to shave my legs. God grant me the power to get out of this shower, indeed. I’m sure a lot of people feel this way – like getting going each day is the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest. Without safety gear, a compass, or oxygen. And little do you know, once you get to the office, an avalanche is in motion. So what can we do? Where does the power really come from? Not only to get going every day, but to actually get through the day in one piece? You have to do it in the face of small hurdles like running out of peanut butter when you really, really want some. Or having a flat tire when you really, really need to get there. Never mind large obstacles like worrying about the economy or the war. I personally believe part of the power does come from God. The other part comes from within each of us. Some people pray. Others meditate. And of course there are other worthwhile practices such as yoga, exercise – and happy hour. The thing that always trips me up is that we do all of these things in order to reset. And stay productive for our partner, family, friends, boss and the local soup kitchen. All of which we wholeheartedly believe we need to tend to every single day, hour, moment. Meanwhile, we personally suffer. We try to do too much. We use up all our energy. We believe we’re operating as a super-efficient hybrid when we’re really burning through energy like an SUV. The reality is life doesn’t have a reserve tank. You have to refuel every so often. Or you’ll miss something while you’re broken down. If you ever want to know the true value of spending your energy more wisely, ask someone who has survived cancer. Or the loved one of someone who didn’t. And that’s why I really want to learn how to slow down. I want to trade my laptop for better eye contact. I want to take in everything life has to offer. I don’t necessarily want to live like my days are numbered, but because I have no reason to believe they are.
Apr 2nd, 2009 by Michelle Sieg
The root of all good
Like most of America, money has been on my mind a lot lately. Ironically, the less of it you have, the more it seems to weigh. When I watch the news, read print headlines or virtually talk to anyone who has a strong opinion about financial bailouts, this thought keeps running through my head: Money is the root of all evil. Although the origin has been debated, this phrase was most likely first spoken in the Bible. And has been miss quoted for a couple thousand years. Jesus actually said, “The love of money is the root of all evil.” Which means we’re even more screwed. The difference here is more than semantics. The word love makes it emotional. And it puts the responsibility where it belongs: the human, not the dollar. After all, money is a mere object that people made almighty. We’ve given it power. We’ve given it life. Last year, we even gave it a facelift. Only kidding. Here is the real redesign – just in case you went to your wallet to see for yourself – and found it empty. So if the love of money is the root of all evil, what’s the root of all good? Is there a currency for that? Can you save a few small allowances of wonder and purchase an order of joy? And maybe a side of smiles? (I’m going to stop this analogy now before I call it a Happy Meal and risk trademark infringement. And my dignity.) But, I really do wonder what’s at the root of all good. And if the love of love became its own payment system, would the government also need to help us regulate that? (Insert your own commentary on Prop 8 here.) Would the greedy among us hoard love? And then lie about it? Would the commoners have to lock what love they have up at night? I don’t think so. I think if love had as much tangible power as money, there would be fewer padlocks. Less financial-related depression. And more sustenance – regardless of what’s for dinner. There would be more of an inclination for sharing – if for no other reason than the fact that you’d really have nothing to lose. Only a lot to gain in the form of reciprocity. For the record, I realize affection can’t clothe and feed you. And you can’t drive happiness to work. Or use goodness to pay for your children’s education. But, nowadays, most people can’t pay for school with money, either. So I think we should try it. Let’s live as if love is the root of all good. Let’s use it to help build a nation rich in respect, honor and understanding for each other. Let’s remember love is patient. Love is kind. Love is kinda like weed. Except legal in all fifty states. Let’s make sure we have plenty of love to hand down to future generations. And learn to manage it with wisdom. But most importantly, when we […]
Mar 26th, 2009 by Michelle Sieg
