How Will We Emerge? My Turn

How will we emerge? That’s the question I’m asking myself and others in this “unprecedented” year. That’s the question I challenge you to ask yourself. There are lots of presumptions in this question:

• An acknowledgement that we’re in epic times that’s going to change our world and us.

• An optimism that there will be a “coming out on the other side” of all these global health, social justice, and political pandemics. An optimism that it will be in 2021.

• The hope that “we” will come out. Not just “me” against “you.”

• The reality that in the midst of what we have no control of, there are a few things we can control. What are the small (or big) ways you personally want to come out of this? What are you learning? What good or hard things have surfaced? How do you want your life / faith / heart / work / relationships to be different? 

If I tune into the daily news or read the statistics, that question ripples through me with uncertainty and fear. If I lay the uncontrollable “we” down, and focus on me, I can answer. I want to emerge with some “more” in a year filled with “less.”

More kind

I entered this quarantine with the mantra “Be kind to yourself.” I’ve needed to hear that on repeat. During these 10 months, I’ve lost the ability to juggle more than a few things a week. And I don’t need my inner critic berating me for that.

These months exposed that I live in a system which benefits me at the expense of others. It’s revealed that I’m all for you doing well as long as it doesn’t affect my bank account or my children’s future.  I pray I emerge more generous and willing to welcome others to share in my privilege.

As conflicts and divisions increased this year, especially in the church and among family and friends, my mantra shortened to “Be kind.” I want to emerge, by the grace of God, without breaking relationships or avoiding people who believe differently than I do. In a world where so many are loudly “right,” how can I quietly love?

More resilient

My physical and mental fall-apart accelerated in lockdown. I damaged my knee, fractured my tooth, had a scary reaction to wasp stings, gained some of the infamous pandemic pounds, and slid into the gray jello of depression. Courage is choosing to keep coming back even if I’m three steps further behind each time, (hobbling, swollen, with a snaggle-tooth smile). This pandemic has made me accept the fact I’m not going to win any races, but I want to keep stumbling forward, even if I could be hired as an extra in a zombie movie.

More grateful

The small-big things this year fill me with thankful wonder: That in this quarantine our kids are neither toddlers nor teens. (My prayers for all the parents and teachers in the thick of it.) That our son spent time with us as he worked remotely. That my 88-year-old mom has been safe. For a camera and how it slows me down to see the beauty around me. For walks with my husband and our dog, both who still like me after lockdown. For a safe neighborhood to walk in and a home to return to—a home with electricity, air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and two-ply toilet paper. For fresh food in the stores and too many good books to read and listen to. For a future with in-person concerts, spontaneous unmasked get-togethers, and worship services where we can sit side by side and “sing loudly (and in my case, poorly) for all to hear” without fear of spreading disease.

Thank you, Jesus, that nothing this year surprises you and good will come from what you’re doing inside of me—inside of all of us—this unprecedented season. More than anything, I want to emerge more deeply in love with you, Jesus. And to relish the reality that you love me right where I am (even if it’s huddled up with Netflix and my stash of dark chocolate peanut butter cups) in these hard and holy moments.

How Will We Emerge? Guest Contributor Leslie Bustard

I met Leslie at the magical Laity Lodge at a conference in the summer of 2019. Little did either of us know what the next year would hold. The way she sees, the way she writes about what she sees, and the way she embraces her life and family reminds me of Annie Dillard’s quote, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing.”  Leslie is “living a full life, full in the fullness of God.” Ephesians 3:19 MSG. She is a kindred treasurer hunter in search of beauty everywhere and in everyone. Thank you, Leslie, for these words.

“Christ plays in ten-thousand places”[1] — even in the midst of sorrow and suffering. Seeking out beauty has been one way to build my hope in Jesus through the hardships of this year.  This daily attentiveness has been how I have sought to “co-operate with holy grace in every moment of my existence."[2]  

The ground is still solid.

The grass is still full of green.

For an hour each morning, I take a walk, eyes open to my surroundings. The piles of clouds and the flirting sunlight inevitably grab my attention, as do porches with rocking chairs, overflowing flower boxes, dancing butterflies, and leaves floating down to the pavement. These walks continued when spring turned into summer and summer flowed into fall. Details I was attentive to have nestled into my imagination, helping me hold onto the grace of a quiet hope.

 The squirrels are still running along high wires.

The bees are still searching for clover.

In 2020 I have been battling Stage 4 melanoma and Stage 2 breast cancer and struggling with the side effects of the cancer medicines—such as inflamed knees. Each morning walk is more than exercise—it’s a way to loosen my knees, clear out my worries, and be attentive to God’s work. During this time of cancer and COVID I have tried to pay attention to all the goodness that comes to me. Scripture, nature, poetry, friends’ messages, songs, stories, and artwork have been my daily companions. My spirit agrees with Walter Wangerin, who said of Beauty that I should not simply “make a memory of it, but to know it now.”[3]

The trees are still playing shadows with the sun.

And the neighbors’ flowers are still blooming.

A friend encouraged me to share with my community the beauty I was seeing in the valley of the shadow of death. These words were an invitation to keep doing what has been natural to me over the years: loving Jesus by sharing beauty with the people in my life. So, I have posted online and written letters with Bible verses, song lyrics, poems, book excerpts, and artwork.

Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love;

that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.[4]

Jesus’ question “What do you want me to do for you?”[5] adorns a postcard on my desk, reminding me to be bold in my prayers during this crazy, upside-down time. Among my many requests, I often pray, “Lead us this day, Lord Christ, that we might walk its paths in the light of the hope of our coming redemption.”[6] When we all emerge from this dark season, I still want my eyes fixed on paths lit by hope. Every day I want to see the beauty of the Lord resting upon me[7], and I want to be someone who both sees and shares with others how Christ plays in ten-thousand places.

[1] From the poem “As Kingfishers Catch Fire” Gerard Manly Hopkins: Poems and Prose (Penguin Classics, 1985)

[2] Schleske, Martin; The Sound of Life’s Unspeakable Beauty (Eerdmans, 2020)

[3] Wangerin, Walter; Letters from the Land of Cancer (Zondervan, 2010)

[4] Psalm 90:14 (ESV)

[5] Mark 10:51 (ESV)

[6] McKelvey, Douglas; Every Moment Holy (Rabbit Room, 2019)

[7] Psalm 90:17 (KJV)

Leslie Anne Bustard takes great joy in loving people and places, whether at church, around her kitchen table, or in a classroom. She delights in words and the way poets and storytellers put them together, and at the beauty found in the details of ordinary life. Reading, writing, teaching literature, baking, producing high school theater, and museum-ing are some of Leslie’s favorite things. Leslie writes for The Cultivating Project and has also written for Deeply Rooted magazine. As one of the partners of Square Halo Books, Leslie created and hosted the podcast The Square Halo. Now she is developing and editing a book titled Wild Things and Castles in the Sky: A Guide to the Best Children’s Books. Another place to find her work is her Caring Bridge, where she shares her cancer journey, her love for Scripture, poetry, and art, and how Jesus has been sustaining her.