What My Garbage Collector has Taught me about Work

Right before Christmas I ran into our garbage collector. He was working hard right up to Christmas Day, so we shared some light jokes and I thanked him for his service to our family and neighborhood. He lit up like a Christmas tree and started bragging on his job.

I do not lie. The man who collects other people's trash for a living began bragging about this work he gets to do.

While I was holding a cooking dish to make Christmas dinner, he told about how much pride he takes in taking care for his truck. Once a week he gets to work early to wash it, Armor-All the insides, vacuum the seats and floors, and buff out his hub caps. Not because he has to (it's not company policy), but because he wants to care for what he's been entrusted. I don't even do that kind of work on my own cars, much less a dump truck. But he does. He told me he wants to be excellent in the work he does. He went on to gush about how he cares about his customers (his words) and he wants their neighborhood to look nice and cared for. He said he gets a part to play in that by cleaning up our trash and taking it away to a place we'll never know about. 

He handles the care of his truck with such professionalism and excellence that the owner of Waste Management noticed and gave him a $500 bonus (out of his own wallet!) for Christmas. Funny enough, the owner asked him if $300 was a good bonus to help him feel appreciated for his service that year and for taking care of the truck. Our garbage collector talked him up $200!! He said, "well, I've kept my truck clean all year!" So he got a couple hundred more dollars. I love it. He stuck up for his hard work and saw the value he brings to the company.

Earlier, last year the owner of Waste Management offered to buy him a new truck. He had an older model and was due for an upgrade. He declined. He told the owner that he didn't need a new truck. His was fine. It worked fine and accomplished the job. He was content with what he had, even when offered something more, better.

That conversation with him lasted about 10 minutes in the alley of our place. I was so inspired. Fast forward...

Yesterday I ran into him again as I was headed out for a meeting, complete with a bag of trash in hand. I turned the corner to see MOUNDS of trash overflowing the dumpsters and overtaking the defined trash bins. My eyes met his and together our eyes rolled and bugged out. We shook our heads in unison. SO.MUCH.TRASH!!!! "So much for a holiday weekend," I said to him.

We commiserated together for a few seconds about how much trash the Memorial Day weekend produced for restaurants and homes. He told me that he was up at 3am, at work by 4am to get started on his route, and at 1pm he wasn't even halfway done with his route for the day! Wow. He'd already worked a 9 hour day and he wasn't even halfway done. He wasn't complaining. He was just telling it like it was.

Again, I thanked him for his service. Again, he beamed and said, "it's my pleasure, ma'am." I believe he really meant that it was his pleasure to pick up my trash. That's a man with some character. Could you say that? I don't think I could.

What if we all had that attitude about our work? What if we saw our work - no matter how inglorious, unappreciated, dirty, or difficult - with that same attitude of our garbage collector. What if we treated our customers with the same respect and dignity, even when we get trashed upon (literally in his case)? What if we got to work early to take care of the tools we'd been given for our job, not because they'd be reviewed in our annual evaluation, but because it was the right thing to do and because we took pride in caring for them?

Most of the time he has a smile on his face and a lightness to his step. He collects smelly, messy, disgusting garbage all day every day. That's his job and he takes pride in it. He has another perspective on it. I see trash. He sees service.

Our garbage collector has taught me a lot about having a different perspective on work. Even when it seems dirty or meaningless or messy, there can be another approach. There can be another way. And even when you're just picking up crap, it can still be important work because of the people you encounter and the greater value behind the work itself. 

I don't know the faith story of our garbage collector, but he's taught me more about this verse than a lot of pastors...

“Servants, do what you’re told by your earthly masters. And don’t just do the minimum that will get you by. Do your best. Work from the heart for your real Master, for God, confident that you’ll get paid in full when you come into your inheritance. Keep in mind always that the ultimate Master you’re serving is Christ. The sullen servant who does shoddy work will be held responsible. Being a follower of Jesus doesn’t cover up bad work.”

— Colossians 3:23 (The Message)

May your work today be for the right reasons, to honor the right One, giving dignity and respect to those you meet. May your work be excellent, not shoddy. May you do your best as everything you do is unto the Lord.

How we Make (big) Decisions in our Marriage

View fullsize

One of the greatest gifts of our marriage is that Brian and I are really great together during seasons of transition and change. We struggle in other areas of marriage, but this is one of our strengths. 

This has been a season of transition and change. Actually, this will be an entire year of change. My spiritual director, Mindy, told me 11 years ago that it'd take us 2-3 years to really settle into life in SoCal before it felt like home and we had the kind of community we had in Chicago. She was right. So we anticipate this as we make another cross-country move.

I digress.

One of the things I get asked most about is how we make decisions in our marriage. It's particularly puzzling to a lot of Christian couples who (knowingly or unknowingly) hold to complementarian views of marriage where they interpret in Scripture that the husband is the spiritual leader of the family. People are curious because they see my leadership and teaching gifts used in pastoral roles in the church and wonder how this plays out at home. I'm sure some think that Brian's a softie and I always get my way. If they only knew how strong my man is!

Since day one, Brian and I have believed the Scriptures to teach an egalitarian example of marriage. We passionately believe the created design of relationships is equality and mutuality, not power and gender preference. Those are the result of the Fall, not of God's intention when he created us. In our marriage, we lead each other. We are equals. Brian submits to me (gasp) and I equally submit to Brian. We honor the supernatural spiritual gifts and skills God's given uniquely to each of us. We make decisions based on those gifts and skills, not based on gender. (If you'd like resources on this, I'd love to share some good ones. I believe this is a key issue in the church and family today.)

Since the very beginning of our marriage, we've never made a decision unless we were both in complete agreement.

Brian's never played the "I'm the man card." We've sought after God together until there was unity. We see that example throughout the Scriptures as the Trinity mutually submits to each other for the benefit of the other and Creation. 

With some decisions, this has been a long and hard process. It's caused fighting, stubbornness, temporary division, and hard conversations. We've delayed making decisions until we can both look each other in the eyes and say "YES". If we can't come to an agreement, we don't make a decision. Period. We wait and work together toward unity. This commitment to decision making has made our marriage stronger and healthier as we've both compromised our list of wants, conceded our desires for the other, and blessed the dreams in each other. This way of making decisions has refined our character as we've had to work out pride, selfishness, manipulative tactics, and other sin. We believe that the same Holy Spirit lives equally inside of me as it does Brian, therefore, as God has joined us together we are one. I am not 1B because I have different body parts. Brian doesn't get to be the default decision maker and leader of our family because he's the man. I don't get to play passive in this marriage. We do this together.

As we've worked through the hard decisions, it's made the majority of other decisions so much easier. We come to a "YES" much quicker on a ton of issues because we've had to work through the harder stuff, instead of Brian just playing the "spiritual leader" card. It's strengthened both of our souls.

View fullsize

Choosing to move to Indiana was a long and hard process. One of my mentors wisely said to us very early in the process,

"Get everything out on the table. Talk about it all. Continue throwing all the options, ideas, feelings, and considerations on the table. Let the process unfold. Slow down. Trust the process and the God behind the process. And don't convince (aka manipulate) each other toward a decision. Trust the Holy Spirit to guide you and lead you both toward the same outcome. Trust that you'll get to the same place at the right time." 

She was right. That's what we did for 3+ months. It's been a very hard and emotional process for Brian and me. We've RARELY been on the same page about this move. We've grieved, questioned, and wrestled differently. Our roller coasters have hardly ever coincided. 

But you know what's beautiful about this way of making decisions? We've been voices of hope and truth and life and compassion and understanding and reason and empathy and clarity to one another all along the way. When I've been weak, he's been strong. When I've just wanted to sell it all and move to Indiana (okay, that's never happened), he's tempered my enthusiasm. When I've been fearful of something, he's been a speaker of love and has cast out that fear. When he's grieved leaving something behind here, I've casted vision about a new life in Indiana. 

Even in that, we've NEVER forced each other toward a decision. We both committed to let each other feel what we need to feel, go through all the questions and doubts, trusting the Holy Spirit will lead us to the same end. He always has. He's never let us down. We promised each other to honor each other's perceived reality yet gently move each other forward in our thinking and emotions. We decided that we don't want to get to the middle of winter in Indiana and have one of us look at the other and curse them for forcing our family to move into the frozen tundra. Mutual decision making doesn't leave room for that kind of bitterness and blame. 

Brian's led me. I've led him. We've submitted to each other.

We know that the healthiest way for us to be partners in this life we are building together is for both of us to be ALL IN no matter what.

So when I say this move has been hard for me, it's been hard for both of us. But together we have agreed that this move is right and good. We trust the process God's lead us on together. Yes, we are moving because Brian got a new job, but we are moving for all of us. I need a change. Our kids need their extended family and space to be kids. 

That's how we make decisions of all magnitudes. We lean into each other's gifts. We trust the wisdom in the other person. We come to complete unity and agreement. I'd wish this way upon every couple. It's utterly honoring, empowering, humbling, trusting, and loving. And those are the ingredients I want for our marriage.

Breathing Differently: it's hard because it mattered

Since we shared the news a few days ago about our move to Northern Indiana, I've been breathing different.   For one, I'm relieved our "secret" is out.

Some of my breaths are deep for sanity-sake. I'm taking deep breaths so my brain doesn't explode from all the details that need to be decided...seemingly RIGHT. THIS. MINUTE. Stress is high at our house these days (mainly from me...I'm an 8 on the Enneagram!). Moving across country with 3 small kiddos is not for the faint of heart.

You should see my Evernote. I have note upon note. List upon list. Some with crazy ideas, others with checklists, most with something I will forget if I don't write it somewhere. 

If Asher asks one more time today if we are going to our new house today, I'll need to take a big, deep breath. :)

Some of my breaths are deep because I'm savoring the moments. This morning I had brunch with one of our prayer warriors. She winsomely insisted it was a "see ya in a while", not "goodbye", brunch. As I crossed off another bucket list restaurant from my "to do" list (Old Vine Cafe) and stared into Shevawn's ocean blue eyes, I savored the years we've spent together. And stared down the reality that moments like this are the beginning of "see ya in a while" meetings with people I love.

View fullsize

Sometimes I forget to breathe. In the frantic nature of moving 2,200 miles away from the life we've made here, I forget to pause and take a breath. I fear these next 5 weeks might evaporate in front of our eyes. I'm forgetting at times to savor the drives down certain streets or the ease of texting my West coast friends at 9pm PST. Last night Brian gently -and firmly - reminded me that not every decision needs to be made RIGHT. THIS MINUTE. And that I don't have to line up every duck and start packing boxes TODAY. We have some time. But when I forget to breathe, I forget that's true. The tyranny of the urgent is all over my life.

But I think all of my breaths reveal one primary truth: this move is hard for me.

It's hard because the past 11 years have mattered, more than I probably realize today. It's hard because I feel like I've grown up and grown into the woman - and mother! - I am today because of this place and these people we so love. It's hard because SoCal feels more like me, more like us, and more like home than any other place Brian and I have ever lived. Saying "yes" to a new journey also means saying "no" to our life here. Yes, it's right and it's hard.

Hard isn't bad. (Hard doesn't always mean good either.) But hard for me in this season is because this last season mattered. I won't run from hard, because hard things matter. Our soul can grow in the midst of hard. Hard presses out impurities and complacency and awakens newness. Hardness connects me with others who are also experiencing hard places, and that is very good. Hard pushes me into dependency on Jesus, which I need more than anything.

So, I'll keep breathing as best I can: deeply, savoring the moments. And I'll keep making lists so I can deal with my stress. I'll schedule one more appointment with my therapist. Brian and I will hang out with our gang late this Friday night for one of our "lasts". I'll go to as many of my favorite restaurants as I can. We'll go to the beach as often as possible. I'll sit face-to-face with those I love and soak in their words, their presence, the way their face looks when they smile and laugh at my silliness.

And I'll embrace the hard trusting that it will bring about the transformation I need. 

And I'll hug my friends a little tighter these next 5 weeks. It matters.