What again to do with this one precious life?

I roll over disoriented in the big bed where I am alone and there is a simple drumming sound that is my alarm. I locate myself and realize today is leaving day. First my heart leaps at the image of hugging Hannah and Stephen by midday and the other half of my body feels the weight of unprocessed lectures, interactions and events of the last few days. It’s the last day of the certificate program in Chicago, well actually calling it Chicago is unfair. We are in Rosemont which is basically the airport, so I didn't want to glam up my travel too much.

And now I sit on the plane after leisurely reading all the pages I wanted to out of the Wall Street Journal and relishing this gift of four hours on a plane where no one in the world needs me. I have things I could and should be doing of course, but I am trying to tame my hyper active responsibility gene in order to also dote on my ever growing need for space to write and think.

One session is on my mind from the last few days that brought up questions that I want to know the answer to. Answers may morph or be incomplete at this time, but I want to give them time. What dreams do I have for influencing the world? What does leaning into hope and risk look like? Influence I hope to bear? What am I supposed to be faithful with and hold?

When I think about what I am supposed to be faithful with and hold I find myself thinking very literally as well as the embodiment and ownership of that which I have been characteristically given to share. Faces rise up quickly in the hold category – Stephen, Hannah, Mom, Dad, Amy, Bryan – my people of which I had no choice to be related to but was God designated to be my people to share my blood and my name and a gene pool. These are my people that because I didn't have choice in selecting (well except Stephen of course) I feel all the more called to remembering and reviving relationships with them. To be faithful to this group of people at this point feels like the choice to not sleepwalk in relationship. To not overassume, underask, to rely so heavily on the gene pool connection that I forget to see them and pursue them. These are my people where if I stand any chance of an influence, they are prime recipients.

So gently, I tell myself, this is a crew worth holding and its never too late. Our crew loves each other for sure but as we stare grief and fear and change in the face, I realize all the things left unsaid. I realize all ground we wont move on and how much courage it takes to behave differently in your own brood without causing high levels of suspicion. And today as I ponder holding and faithfulness in the context of mom’s cancer, I hear a soft, hold now, don’t wait.

A few weeks ago I responded to Stephen in a new way on one familiar issue. It was hard. Not because the words came out of my mouth were hard to say or didn't represent the truth of my heart but that responding differently to something with your spouse is hard. And it was hard beautiful. It was words I wish I had 9 years ago. It was words I wish I meant 2 years ago. And then they were real in my soul and in mind and I had this clear moment where I knew I could choose to respond like old Ashley or I could actually share this gentleness and grace that was birthed up in me for that conversation. Someday I’ll share the whole story but my point here is he is my person to be faithful to and part of faithfulness to him was this growing commitment to love which includes a commitment to growth. Not a faithfulness only in steadfastness which I tend to have in spades but in a commitment to him, his person, to seeing him and caring for him. Oh heavens, im gonna cry on the plane again.

Because as I write something is occurring to me that influence I hope to bear is in line with all this other glory business God has been teaching me this year. It’s not influence to bloat my grandeur and special gifts but this hearty guttural influence that reveals more about the LIVE God and Spirit in my life. It is that influence I hope to bear in this particular case with my people is that I hope to be willing to change. On their behalf and for their behalf because they were given to me by God and for His glory. Its so complicated and so straight forward. I am also given to them. TO influence. And boy do I want that influence not to be aspirational cloud-filled wishes but moments stockpiled in memories of change – of gentleness and grace, of availability.

Thank you Jesus for meeting me at 30000 feet. For connecting dots in my head about the way it all works together for your Glory, not mine or theirs but oh so that we could be so privileged to be living closer in line with the faithfulness of what you have given us and that we would hold so thoughtfully and steadfastly that which you have given us. I only made it through one half of one question but it has been a lovely space in time.