Still Searching....

What am I called to be?  Each of us is specifically skilled to do something.  I teach, at least I did.  What am I doing now; is it baby-sitting, crowd control, molding minds, cultivating citizens? Is it teaching?  Is this teaching now? Is this what I have to look forward to for the next few years if I continue acting on this calling?  Will it change my standards for them?  Will I begin to incrementally give in?  I hope not.  I pray not.  Hold fast..... Stand firm... Pray for help.

It will not return void.....

Isaiah 55:10-11 says

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.

I have been weeping over these words today.  Three times today I have broken down in tears thinking of these words.  Why?  I am a teacher, so these words hold a special place in my heart, in my calling.  The possibility each day that something I do or say might change the thinking of a young mind, leading the learner to a better outcome than the trajectory on which they are currently is often what gets me out of bed.  Teaching is different than when I started in 1989, it's different than when I started anew in 2008, and not different in a good way.  

So why weep, why not just do something else?  Because I must do what I am called to do.  I cannot run from what I am called to do (more on that later).  Every good teacher that I have known has one thing in common; a desire to improve the life of children.  That is not to say that all children are in a miserable state, it speaks to seeding their future with tools they can use to reap future successes and experience that future in a deeper way.  I find myself more and more often looking into the eyes of my skilled fellows, women and men of passion and empathy, and seeing dejection, disillusion and despair.  Yes, everyone goes through hard moments, but seek out a group of teachers and ask them what they place their hope meters at.  The answers you get will show a dark level of morale.  But ask them what make them keep coming back every day and the answers will be all about the kids.  

So why am I weeping.....?  I don't see the promise of a harvest the way I did in years past.  I see fields of young minds stagnant and rotting.  Too many are in the classroom because they have to be.  These see no problem with trading 7 hours of their life for nothing; new knowledge holds no value to them.  Many have given up caring about their academic rights after being forced to live years with the first group, made to be tolerant of the daily drain of time caused by miscreant classmates whose right to waste precious classroom time is more important than their right to be enriched.  A growing group are the ones whose parents either do not respond to your suggestions meant to aid or lay the blame for 10 years of poor parenting on you the teacher who has been in the child's life for mere months; those children who move through their 7 hours with you like dark eyed ghosts or empty shells who have already given up on life.  I weep because that group in the middle, the ones I can reach are torn from me by the first, and because the last group cannot hear from my lips the words they really need to hear; that they are preciously made, valued and loved by God and therefore loved by me.  I weep because that first group is too often the focus of a darkness that I would rather deny exists within my own heart and because they refuse to take my hand, the very same hand that I will offer to them every day knowing that it will be rejected.  I weep because our culture has turned our 10 year-old children into something that resembles angry cast members from the Jerry Springer Show.  I weep because I don't see the harvest any more.  

I keep going, each day, because I have hope there will be a harvest, that somehow, in spite of the current struggles, seeds have found fertile ground, taken root and will grow and prosper despite what I fear.  I open the door to my classroom in the dark each morning, before most people are even out of bed, because I hope that today I will see signs of a harvest.  I prepare my classroom each morning to make wise use of every minute because of a hope that one student, once entangled by the vines of ignorance, will be able to break free from the darkness and begin to produce the fruit of knowledge.  I keep striving because I have a promise that a harvest will occur.

Yes, I believe I am called to be a teacher.  I have run from God's callings in the past, and always I end up right where He wants me.... eventually.  Often my running is because I don't see the logic in the calling.  I run to avoid that which I fear or find uncomfortable.  I have found that I most often run from that which I am called to do.   So for every excuse that my heart tries to use to keep me from teaching, I must remind my heart that it is this struggle for which I was made.  

Verses 8 and 9 say:  For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.  It is this that I tell myself in the morning as I step in front of the bathroom mirror, during the struggle in the middle of class, in the afternoon when I am home alone weeping over failures from the day, and at 3 in the morning when I wake up afraid, full of doubt.  It is this upon which my hopes rest,  hoping for the harvest today, being aware that I may never see that harvest, but knowing that if I speak truth the harvest will come. 

Verse 11 says,   So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.  So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it.  

So what am I to do?  I will go forth.  I will heed the call.  I will trust my God.  His word will not return void.

It's not about crime... It's about sin

I just read a post from a dear friend on Facebook and I was moved almost to tears.  The post concerned the newest movement focused on ending gun violence.  I know, why would that move me to tears, it's a noble effort, and gun violence... wouldn't it be wonderful if it could be wiped out?  Here's the thing, gun violence is not what we need to work on, it's only  a symptom of the true sickness that causes pain throughout the world... sin.

Every country in the world has outlawed slavery, yet every day in thousands of cities and communities around the world girls, women and young boys are bound against their will to do unspeakable things for those powerful enough to break the laws of civilized society at the most base levels.

Every country in the world has laws against theft, rape, physical violence, and murder, yet every day people become victims of these crimes.

It is illegal to kill someone yet we see throughout the world, people use numerous means to bring life to a violent end.  If a gun is not available a knife will do, if no knife then maybe a hammer, no tools, then the wheels of a car..... or maybe a nasty dose of poison, drugs, a push into traffic, or a plain old fashion beat-down... 

We have made laws against violence since Old Testament times, and most cultures have a common legal code.  So why do we still have death and violence when we have such strict laws?  the answer is simple; it's sin.  We are immersed in sin.  Sin is in our hearts.  There is only one way to combat sin, and that is through a daily growing relationship with Jesus Christ. 

There in lies the problem, Jesus..... because we are sinful, we are averse to admitting our need of this relationship, and we avoid it because it would mean changing who and what controls our life. 

So now I will write a statement that will be very unpopular in the current social flow.  Passing another gun law will do nothing to change what happens on a daily basis.  People will still kill each other.  Starting a new feel-good movement to outlaw guns or knives (sticks, stones, sharp sticks) will do nothing but make the people involved feel like they have accomplished something, but in reality nothing will change.  The only thing that will change society is people meeting Jesus in a personal and life changing way. 

You will know them by their Fruit

One of my favorite movies is "Saving Private Ryan."  I have watched it 3 times, I have watched other movies more, but this film always has a powerful effect on me.  The most powerful scene for me is the scene near the end of the film where an elderly Ryan, for whom we saw so many sacrifice so much, is shaken by emotion as he looks at the grave of one of the men responsible for saving him.  through his tears, he pleads with his wife, asking her to reassure him that he was a good man, that the life he has led was worthy of the sacrifice of these men he has come to visit.  "Tell me that I lived a good life.  Tell me that  am a good man."  In this scene he is faced with a full understanding that if his life was an empty one, the men before him died in vain.  He needed proof that someone saw value in his life.  I remember seeing the movie for the first time and when that scene was over, I realized that I had that same question, was my life a life of value, a life of evidence?

Last weekend was an amazing weekend for me as a father.  So many memories happened, so many smiles spread, so many tears shed.  At the end of those two short days I was worn out (in a good way) by the blessings that God had showered over me.

As I negotiated the days after this past weekend, the ones fill with the day-to-day trivialities that often make us feel like a faceless cog amongst the machine of life, I found myself coming back to the promise of Christ in Matthew chapter 7; "So then, you will know them by their fruits."  I know I might be taking this verse slightly out of context, many will say that Jesus was teaching his disciples how they will be able to identify true teachers from those that are false, those with the gospel of grace and those with a twisted version of it.  I began to see it as a statement made in connection to Proverbs 22; "Train up a child in the way they should go..." that it was a measure of a father as well.  As the week went on, the words that I prayed in church on Sunday morning, thanking God for the blessing of those teenagers in the youth choir who lead us in such a pure and transparent worship time, kept returning to me.  It was almost as if God was reminding me that I had some part in it.

What a full weekend.  Jac had an amazing performance at a local gym meet, and seeing him interact with his teammates and fellow competitors was more uplifting than seeing him earn medals from his performance.  Alex blew away the judges at her solo and ensemble performances though her music and her presence.  Chris expertly supported his future bride during a very busy visit from her mom and grandma as they pushed through plans for their May wedding.  Domi made me cry as her voice led a room of hundreds in worship during a county wide youth choir event.  Not only was I touched by my own children, but kids with whom I have worked were present in the memories made.  The girls from our Life group danced during both the worship time at church and at the concert.  Teens that were in my bike group over the past 2 years were involved in the glorifying of God, their faces showing an amazing desire to serve our Lord.

Those moments last weekend have left me with assurance that there is evidence in this life of my value.  My children and the children that I listened to and saw last weekend were God's proof that I had produced fruit.  I hear myself think these thoughts and I feel as though I am being egocentric, but I know his thing called life is not about me, it's about Him and them.  Sometimes, though, a man needs the reassurance that comes from being able to look back at his work and know that his efforts were fruitful.  This past weekend was one of those moments for me.  Now it's time to shut up and go make more of those moments.

Give and Take

We (Terri, the 2 younger guys, Mom & Dad, and I) just spent the past 4 days North of Atlanta in the Middle of the Chattahoochee National Forest.  The cabin we stayed at for the second time is a little home about 1/2 way down hwy. 60 between Blue ridge and Suches.  This picture is one of the creek that is not more than 25 feet from the front porch.  It's sounds will sing you to sleep and its water are crystal clear so that you can see the fool's gold littering the streambed.

This trip for me was a lesson on what I am and what I am not.  I learned that I am very comfortable in the mountains, living a little more simply and apart from large numbers of people.  I also learned that I am NOT meant to live in Atlanta.  There is something about that town that, for me at least, oozes stress and anxiety.  We had to go through the ATL on the way in and during that part of the trip I found out my car has a cooling issue.  We were there for a gym meet that my son was competing in on Saturday, and so were 50,000 cheerleaders, their coaches, parents, and there make-up support staff.  We found out that they were there when we tried to go the last 2 miles of the drive to the meet on Saturday.  That 2 miles took an hour, not exaggerating, an hour.  Terri and Jac actually walked the last mile and a half while we fought through the traffic.  They made it there about 20 minutes before mom and I did.  It took a lot of effort to bring me back down off the emotional ledge that evening.  The drive back through the mountains did it, that and the laughter that we shared in the car on the drive back (thanks Mr. Bag).  

The next morning it was in the teens and the sky was crystal clear.  Coffee is just better in the woods.  The dogs were absolutely having a ball.  All day Friday Alexandra and Jac were in the woods out back exploring.  Rocks look better in the woods.  There were pockets of ice all along the stream.  The kids found walking sticks and poked at all sorts of stuff.  Sticks are better in the woods.  

On the way home today we drove out through the forest heading SE.  If the road was a twisting snake coming into the cabin from the NW, then the road to Suches and Dahlonegah was like a tangle of snakes.  We took time to stop and smell the views on the way out, I kept thinking I wish I was on my bike.... except it was 25 degrees.  

The best part of the trip was seeing my son compete.  He had a really rough competition, but through it all he kept on giving what he had to give.  In the end he came away with a 6th place in one event, but he pushed through and in the end he had a positive outlook toward the future.  

Attitudes are better in the woods.

A short Thank You

My ears aren’t so good any more; they haven’t been for some time.  I think I started loosing my hearing right after the first bad incident I had with electricity back when I was in college doing refrigeration work during the summer time.  Any way, I really notice it when I wear headphones, one sounds like it’s turned way up and the other is seems as though it’s only up half way.  I found that I have to wear both in one ear in order for the balance to not be messed up.  It’s kind of weird looking, but it works for me.  The thing that has really been the hardest about the loss of my hearing is that I have a hard time having a conversation in a crowd or hearing a person speaking at a distance in a crowded room.  Funny, I’m more comfortable in front of a crowd than in the midst of one, at least up at the front I don’t have to worry about what the other guy is saying.

Funny though it sounds, I think God blessed me through the loss of my hearing.  One of the first things I had to do was to learn how to compensate in crowded situations.  There were times when I would completely miss someone saying something to me, even my wife, that couldn’t end up good.  I found that the only way I could hear people was to really focus on them.  I had to be looking straight at them, something I really didn’t do well.   I have never been really good at paying attention to people, always had too many things going in my head to much care what others were saying… another thing that was bound to end poorly.  I had to learn how to actually listen to people; start to learn, I’m still learning.  Over the years I have gotten better at hearing conversations and voices in crowds, not by concentrating harder on the sounds people make, but by reading what their lips told me.  That has been a huge blessing for me, it’s taught me to clear away, if only for a few short minutes, all the distractions in my head so that I can share an unrepeatable moment with someone else. 

Dear Father God… Thanks for the blessings on the side of my head.

A Time for Giving Thanks

One of the songs that usually brings me to tears in my new life, my empathetic life, is a song by Todd Agnew entitled, "Still Here Waiting."  The chorus recalls the fact that when the singer/writer finally turned around and stopped running toward the things he desired and started walking back toward God and the things He wanted for the sinner, that God was there, waiting with arms open, every time.  It seems I spend a lot of time like the sinner in this song, walking purposely away from this God who wants to warmly cloth me in His blessings.  I spend days and weeks walking angry at life around me ignoring God who is always there waiting quietly.  Each time I catch a glimpse of Him through my anger fueled view of the world I am halted, forced to view myself as the worst of what I see in this world.  I have had a few of those moments recently, each time catching a glimpse of the joy I could be enjoying instead of the blackness that fills me most days.

I read somewhere that purposely expressing thanks to someone each day is an easy way to change your outlook, though it takes persistence, making it a habit is the key.  I am going to use these days leading up to Thanks Giving Day to poke a few holes in my attitude, letting a little light in. "How hard can it be?"

God forgive me...  You have given me eyes with which I can see.  I can see the glories of your hands.  I daily look upon the master strokes of this world you have created.  I am able to look at blessing after blessing that you have purposed to place in my life.  All these things I do, and yet I choose to close my eyes to all of them and instead look at what appear to me as wrongs and mistakes.  I look too often at the things sinful man has made of this world and I let my heart turn dark.  Lord, help me to look for those things that you purpose for me.  These eyes you have given me are not as clear as in years past, and maybe they have grown dim because of the darkness I have chose to fixate on.  One thing I have noticed in the past few months is that I am forced to look more closely at things when I really want to see them, and I wonder if that is by design.  Are you helping me to more closely attend to the people in my life? Thanks I give to you, as well as I can, for these eyes I have.  Thanks for the glimpses of beauty that are still present around me though I have chosen to darken my view of things.  Thank you, Lord, for giving me new opportunities to see You more clearly.  Help me to be more aware of the blessings you have designed for my eyes to see.