toboggans and enough.

last weekend, we got to spend the weekend with my dad's family at a beautiful getaway in the pocono mountains of PA. it's a beautiful place that we look forward to going to every year, staying in the same cottage, eating in the same dining hall, going down the same ski slopes, laughing at the same old jokes, doing the same grand march at the same dance each saturday night, looking forward to the same crepes for brunch on sundays, and just enjoying each other. it's a place that spoils us for a weekend, but it also provides a space for a beautiful togetherness.

one of the sweet winter activities at skytop lodge is a toboggan run. it's an old tower with a concrete chute that is iced and spits out onto the lake. you climb the steps to the tower, lugging your toboggan sled up behind you, cram on to the sled at the top of the chute, and scream the whole way down, hitting the frozen lake and gliding as far across as you can until you spin out of control and fall off the sled in a pile of laughter. it's fun. this year, my two sisters and i were waiting in the line to take a turn. we needed a big sled for the three of us to fit on together (we're grown-ups now! :-), but none were free. and we were definitely not fitting on a two-person sled. so as people trudged back up the hill after taking their ride, carrying big sleds, we asked them if we could use the sleds they'd just used. so many people refused! "we're going down again!" they said protectively, possessively. after asking three people and getting rejected, we were next in line and still without a toboggan. i asked the next man who came up with his long sled. "i'm going again," he told me and started walking towards the back. "sir, we're next in line! i'll give it back to you as soon as we get back up; i'm sure you won't be to the front of the line before then!" he sighed and gave me the sled.

now, i was annoyed. here we were at this incredibly nice, high-class winter resort. we're amongst lots of white, upper-class folks with lots of money and privilege. and we're fighting over sleds?!? afraid there won't be enough?!? why are we so afraid that there won't be enough? this is a silly example, but to me it exemplifies an attitude that is pervasive and is hurting the poor and the vulnerable in our country and our world. and in the process, it's actually hurting us. we're so afraid that we won't get a turn, that we'll lose out somehow, that we won't lend what we have to our neighbors in need. never mind the fact that the sleds aren't even ours to start with. that our money, our land, our resources aren't ours - they are on loan to us from a Creator who desires that all would have enough. it is when we let our selfishness, our sense of entitlement, and our fear control us that we buy into a myth of scarcity, that there actually isn't enough, that i have to hold on to the bit that i have as hard as i can or i'll be left with nothing. health care debate, anyone? i was reminded, i suppose, that when i hold on so tightly to what i think i deserve, what i've "earned," which usually means i've just been born in the right place and the right time to the right people to get that privilege (or that i rushed out right after lunch to get the toboggans first!), i'm neglecting the people on the margins. and not only that. i'm saying with my attitude, with my life, that i don't actually trust that God will provide. i'm saying that i don't trust that God is big enough, bigger than my fear, to provide for all of us what we need.

i want to trust that there are enough toboggans for all, enough to share and still get to take a joy ride myself. and isn't it great to hear the gleeful scream of my neighbors experiencing that joy themselves? i am totally convinced that as we live more communally, sharing so that there is enough for all, we all experience greater joy, deeper life. help us to trust, God, and release us from our fears. pry open our fingers and let us know the joy of living together in generosity and freedom.