I recently made an early morning hospital visit. I planned ahead: blended a breakfast smoothie the night before, went to bed early, and set an ‘extra-pep’ alarm option - Hamilton’s Helpless would be the sound to wake me.
All went flawless.
Philippa Soo, Lin-Manuel Miranda, and the rest of the Broadway crew called me on stage at 5am.
I showered-and-dressed.
And I began drinking my blueberry-banana-almond-butter-and-almond-milk smoothie from a Mason jar on the way out the door.
As I carried the jar into the car, I propped it very carefully on the console area as it did not fit into the cupholder.
Fortunately, the drive was less than a mile.
Unfortunately, I’d only taken a couple of brief sips of my smoothie when a deer bolted out along the side of the road.
I immediately pumped the brakes and threw my right arm across the untethered smoothie like I was holding back a child in a seatbelt-less 1960s-era vehicle.
All should have been fine.
I mean, the deer retreated to the tree line.
I stopped in plenty of time had the deer kept going into the road.
And my arm stabilized the smoothie.
Almost.
Turns out it is rather difficult to swing your arm perfectly across a small, moving Mason jar while driving in the pitch dark. Very quickly the entire 12 ounces of smoothie cascaded down onto my console area, over my remote entry key, and then across the passenger’s seat and floor area.
I could not tell just how far-and-deep everything had oozed until I pulled into the well-lit hospital parking lot.
Oh wow…
Miracle of miracles, I had an unopened container of baby wipes in the backseat (It’s the small things in these moments, right?)
Yeah for our toddler who is not-yet-fully-potty-trained!
I then spent the next seven minutes glopping up as much smoothie as I could - one diaper wipe at a time.
I folded some of the wipes so that I could work more easily in the crevices of my console. I kept others stretched full so I could cast as wide a cleaning swipe as possible. Throughout, I worked quickly so that blueberries, bananas and almond butter-and-milk would not forever be caked into the console’s electronic area.
Finally, I looked down at my clothes and stood in genuine amazement that not a single ounce of smoothie fell on me.
Because here is the wrong-headed but super-honest thought that crossed my mind in that moment: prayers drenched in fresh fruit and almond butter (though undeniably a sweeter-than-normal offering) would surely arrive far-less-effectively.
Who wants a pastor caked in their morning breakfast?
Who, on the cusp of a significant surgery and desirous of a voice who can dance with the mysteries of life-and-prayer, wants to see a guy drenched like a toddler who refused to wear a bib?
I walked through the hospital doors without a spot of blue - though I confess thoughts of blue were splattered all over my mind.
How deep is that stain on the passenger seat carpet?
Is the blue-dyed almond milk currently crystalizing underneath the volume nob a looming ant problem?
Why is a day for which I prepared perfectly already a literal mess?
Also, my stomach is empty.
I wish I could say I had holier reflections.
I even recognized in the moment itself how ridiculous it was to be consumed with smoothie thoughts while walking to pray with someone who faced a genuinely fearful and life-altering moment.
A few moments later - I was praying with this person.
Meaningfully.
Focused.
And truly with love.
And then like that they were off for surgery preparation as I remained staring up at the tall windows of the hospital atrium. And there, the Helpless truth began to descend upon me far more acutely.
Because even though I had done everything to ensure I was totally in control of the day, it was not even 6:15am and already…
I had felt helpless before the near-instantaneous movement of deer-and-gravity that made a mess of things.
I had felt helpless to keep my thoughts tethered to things more noble than ants, almond milk, and where to discard blueberry-drenched baby wipes.
And, genuinely, I felt helpless to ensure this person’s successful surgery.1
—
Does it ever feel like no matter what we plan, what we do, or how we set our intentions - something totally unforeseen pops out of the woodwork? Something spills? Gravity moves faster than we anticipated?
Does it ever feel like all our efforts at control (of our schedule, our day, our mind, our big events) are fleeting?
Does it ever feel that there is so much about life that is simply beyond our ability to grasp, manage, or harness just so?
To be sure, I don’t think we are entirely helpless.
We have agency to blend the day’s concoction with the nutrients (and amounts) we think best.
We have the wherewithal to pump the breaks on impending dangers.
We have the ability to show up and offer the words or actions we have been trained to offer.
But also, we can recognize that many days…
We do, in fact, show up to find all kinds of unforeseen spills falling on us and around us.
And we do, in fact, show up with our minds a blender whirring all kinds of small (and big) anxieties.
And so yes, there are many days when we are the…
person
pastor
parent
professional
…who shows up caked in a veritable blueberry mess. On us or in us or both - it’s there.
And you know what?
If we simply risk offering the gifts we have anyway -
the words,
the actions,
the presence,
- Something happens.
Something about which we are helpless to control.
The Something is grace.
It’s the movement of an invisible blessing pouring onto the console and crevices of our heart.
It pours at the speed-and-certainty of gravity (and with the same indiscriminate force as gravity).
And it flows right though us to offer far more than we would have imagined we could give.
And honestly, this is almost always how God shows up in the world. Flooding vital nutrients into the world through people caked in their own mess.
—
I cued up Helpless for my alarm the next morning, too. I figured it’s about as good a soundtrack as one could have for the day. Or any day.
I am pleased to say that the surgery went well.
Timely words. You've described my week, which is not over. Your story gives me hope.
I am always amazed how you can write a great story about anything! Time to get a mason jar retro fit cup holder....😍