Faith IN the mess...

So my Friday is my Saturday. Because I work on Sundays, my weekends start after work on Thursday and because I go to school on Saturday, my weekend ends at the end of the day on Friday. So Friday I am up at 5 (because I take after my crazy father who gets up at five instead of my crazy mother who goes to bed at five...both a.m.) and I read several chapters for class, empty the dishwasher, make coffee and breakfast, then I wash the dog, shower, and got ready for my "day off."

I usually have a nice cup of coffee with my husband, and then I hit the pharmacy and the grocery store before I go home to dust, vacuum, and do more homework.

That's not to say I dust and vacuum every day off. Sometimes I mow and rake. Sometimes I clean the garage. Sometimes I clean out closets or run errands.

What I can't seem to find is that idea of weekend that I thought I'd have when I was imagining what being an adult would be like. Walking through the lush green spinach and lettuce of a backdoor garden and smiling at the rabbits having a snack in your private produce department...reading the whole New York Times cover to cover with coffee, white terry robes, and a very handsome man in my very luxurious bedroom with a table and chairs, sofa, and, of course bed with breakfast tray...sailing in a beautiful boat with good friends and good wine...hiking the Appalachian Trail in very cool boots and shorts...dinner parties in your backyard garden at big farmer's tables with tablecloths and plates overflowing with beautiful food, candles, and no pile of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen...do you get the picture?

I sometimes look for that in my faith. I want that faith that allows your head to glow with a heavenly light and your eyes to glisten with just the hint of tears of joy and fulfillment. I want a faith that allows me to turn water into wine and have a heck of a party with my 200 closest friends. I want a faith that allows me to walk on water without ruining the topsiders.  I want a faith that inspires people to want to build temples in my honor...a faith that packs the house and brings more in.

But I don't live in the TV world and the longer I live and the more I read of the scripture, the more I realize that the childhood perspective of miracles as magic is wrong.  Jesus eats with sinners...probably means bad food and less than opulent accomodations.  Jesus heals lepers...nasty disease in case you forgot.  Jesus challenges the status quo and winds up on a Roman cross for his efforts to love God and neighbor.

Faith is in the mess.  Faith is where we do live...not where we want to live...and that, I think, is the miracle.I don't have to create the fantasy to find faith.  It's in the real world with me!!

Where's the weekend?????

So, my Friday is my Saturday. Because I work on Sundays, my weekends start after work on Thursday, and because I go to school on Saturday, my weekend ends at the end of the day on Friday. So last Friday I am up at 5 (because I take after my crazy father who gets up at five instead of my crazy mother who goes to bed at five...both a.m.) and I read several chapters for class, empty the dishwasher, make coffee and breakfast, then I wash the dog, shower, and get ready for my day off.

I did have a nice cup of coffee with my husband, and then I hit the pharmacy and the grocery store before I went home to dust, vacuum, and do more homework.

That's not to say I dust and vacuum every day off. Sometimes I mow and rake. Sometimes I clean the garage. Sometimes I clean out closets or run errands.

What I can't seem to find is that idea of weekend that I thought I'd have when I was imagining what being an adult would be like:

• walking through lush green spinach and lettuce in a backdoor garden with delicious hot coffee (made, I'm sure by the butler/maid/husband) and smiling benevolently at the rabbits having a snack in your private produce department...
• reading the whole New York Times cover to cover with coffee (again), white terry robes, and a very handsome man (butler back? no husband!) in a luxurious bedroom with table and chairs, sofa, and of course, the mussed but beautiful bed with breakfast tray...
• sailing in a beautiful boat with good friends and good wine, beautiful tan and great hair...
• hiking the Appalachian Trail in very cool boots and shorts, slender legs--shaved and exfoliated...
• dinner parties in your backyard garden at big farmer's tables with tablecloths and plates overflowing with beautiful, home-grown, organic food, candles that don't attract suicidal moths, and no pile of dirty dishes waiting in the kitchen (butler again!)...
• add your fantasy here...

Sometimes I seek that in my faith. I want faith that allows my head to glow with a heavenly light and my eyes to glisten with just a hint of tears of joy and fulfillment. I want faith that allows me to turn water into wine and have a heck of a party with my 200 closest friends. I want faith that allows me to vanquish evil doers and straighten out this mess we call life in the real world. I want faith that is unquestionable and unquestioned, faith that allows me to float through my days in a peaceful, happy fog that touches those around me and spreads the love...allowing my children to do exactly the right things, my church to grow and thrive and not be able to find parking places on Sunday because so many are compelled by the aura to drive up the very long, very hidden drive...motivating teens to wear suits and ties and volunteer at the church in every spare minute they have, happily giving up their Wii's for shelving library books and scrubbing walls, and weeding flower beds...

But, on the weekend and in my faith I just get up and do what needs to be done, celebrating occasional cups of great coffee or great insight. The reality is, as I look around, most real adult people don't have weekends like I imagined, or faith like we have defined it. You can't show me where Mother Teresa's head glowed on a regular basis, and we learned after her death that she struggled every day to hold on to her faith. Moses glowed after coming off the mountain of God, but before and after that event he dealt with real people and real issues and made a boatload of mistakes. Jesus was crucified.

Faith and weekends seem to be much more about preparation and awareness, and the discipline of "keeping on" so that when the spirit of the luxurious moment does break through, we can see and celebrate.

My greatest frustration comes when I expect faith and/or weekends to be something they are not. Both are fully a part of real life and not separate from it. Both require work and persistence. Both hold great hope for the future (I still hope for that garden...and maybe the slender legs...) and both shape life in the coming days. And as frustrating as both can be, I wouldn't even consider living without them.