When I arrive in Dallas on Thursday, I’ve been pondering what I’ll say to introduce myself. No doubt only three sentences are required, but I’ve been pondering why I’m there. What motivated me to travel over 2000 km as the crow flies (not once but 4X in 2023!) to take part in something I could perhaps have learned from a Ted Talk or a really good book? Why am I here?

The question got me remembering my former student Tyler, a goofy kid whose glasses (when he hadn’t lost them) were forever askew or broken. A constant joker. Let’s just say he was not often aware of the learning agenda I had for him, but you had to like the kid. 

Years ago we teachers set up these new learning centers. Riding on the Harry Potter craze, we called them “houses”. Our fancy plan was that each student would meet twice/month in new groups outside their regular classroom, with all ages. (Sounds like the cohort!) Each student’s house would stay the same through the years. 

After all our planning, Launch Day finally arrived. Tyler was in the house I was in charge of which met in the music room. As the dust was settling and I was doing roll call, Tyler put his head in his hands and moaned loudly, “Why am I here?” My teacher self probably corrected him, but my inner self laughed and thought, “I hear you Tyler.”

Unlike Tyler, no one has forced this cohort on me, but I’ll still ask his question on Thursday, minus the moaning. 2022 was a difficult year, probably one of the hardest of my life. Going through a hard time can feel like you’re drowning, or like squeezing through the eye of a needle. Focusing on meaning and God (instead of falling off the wagon) is not easy, as many know. A liminal time for sure, and I was surrounded by enormous mercy when God heard my cries in so many ways. 

One mercy happened in May when I heard a call to join this cohort. A need to go deeper in my walk with Jesus woke within me. I didn’t say yes right away…my community helped me discern it, but I never heard no. When my inner cheapskate Mennonite protested how impractical and expensive it was, Linda wisely answered, “You know, you should probably pay attention to that inner voice.” I’m so grateful for everyone’s encouragement. Over the months, it became a touchstone that something better was ahead. In a way, the cohort has already paid for itself with the hope it’s provided. As our loving God always does, I was being gently, consistently pulled into the flourishing he wants for us all. 

Another layer to the question arose last week. At last Wednesday’s Luke study, I found myself asking the question during my break-out group. Not “why am I in this group” but why are we even here on this earth? I found myself going on about wanting a legacy; an answer to the question of why God has even put me here. I so much want my life to amount to something more than having a good Wordle streak. Paul brought it deeper for me when he talked about the miracle that we’re even here at all. Maybe just living humbly with gratitude for God’s enormous grace could be enough. I breathed easier as my anxious grasping for a legacy loosened.

We remembered an ancient song we learned years ago when Watershed joined our friend Arthur and his family for Passover. Dayenu isHebrew for “it would have been enough.” At least 15 verses long, the song is about being grateful to God for all the gifts given to the Jewish people, such as taking them out of slavery. “If God had brought us out of Egypt, it would have been enough.” Dayenu

Why am I here? I’ll probably keep asking the question, but meanwhile, I’ll practice remembering all the miracles in my life, like when I received a green light during a dark time. It was bright enough to light the way and remind me how deeply our loving God provides for us through every trial.

(Originally published January 24, 2023)