The Nativity.

I was in Target a few nights ago, picking up some last minute lab supplies for my students.

Having found my items, I wandered through the holiday supplies, just to see what was there.

As I paused to read a stocking stuffer label more closely, two women near my age conversed casually, and the topic caught my attention, so I pretended to read a while longer.

"You know those little holiday displays some people keep in their homes? Like, under the tree, or next to it? You know, the wooden ones. I think they are really cute. I was thinking I might want to get one this year..." Seeing her friend still wasn't following her topic yet, the woman went on, "They're, like, in a little barn, with an angel or a star over it."

I wanted to help, but then I would have to admit I had been listening.

"Well," The first woman continued, "I found one I like, it's really expensive, but I like it better because you can take the baby out of its cradle."

The women rounded to the next aisle, and I didn't feel like being creepy enough to find something to "read" on the next aisle, too. I needed to stop dawdling, anyway. I checked out.

I drove home, a little entertained by the description I had overheard.

Nativity. How strange that something dearer and more Christmas to me than Santa and the tree, something I played with during childhood was so novel, so unfamiliar to these women of a similar age. At first, I pondered the contradiction. They knew the scene, but not the story. It seemed absurd. I wanted to know what she thought the display represented.

Then, as I drove home, another thought struck me.

That was how it went the first time.

There was a cute baby, cradled by a manger, possibly in something like a little barn. What an odd display. And like the women that I shamelessly eavesdropped upon, most of the world didn't register the significance of the absurd little event.

The shepherds that were guided to the manger did not know to call it "The Nativity" either. They too sought out a savior that they didn't understand.

How did they describe the view they came upon?

It is tempting for those of us who know the story by heart to scoff at the obvious ignorance of the unindoctrinated about the nativity... We want to get caught up in our Christmas snobbery.

but wasn't that the point of the nativity?

Like these women in the store, there was an unnatural draw to this baby in a humbled situation.

Wasn't Jesus born for those who did not yet know him? The unindoctrinated, too?

Jesus pursued those who knew little, leaving the well studied to their own snobbery.

We like to focus really hard on a baby in a manger at Christmas time. Too hard, at times. I think it is because it is safe. What an innocent, nonthreatening picture: a sleeping baby. We want to focus on shiny stars, and pretty carols, hushed tones, and lullabies, cuddling, and cuteness. What an oversimplification of Christian life.

And perhaps, the woman at the store unknowingly tapped on some wisdom: We need a nativity display that allows us to take the baby out of the manger. Jesus doesn't belong in the manger.

There were many at the time who would have been perfectly happy to let that baby lie in the manger permanently. Unfortunately for them, the baby moved, escaped, grew up, overturned tax tables, talked to prostitutes, defended women, fed multitudes, provided wine for the party, demanded people walk on water, crawled willingly to his death, and rose effortlessly to come back for us. To put it shortly, he didn't stay cute and containable for long. The baby that left the manger set the bar for living faithfully much higher than crooning praises and gazing adoringly upon his sweet, sleeping face.

And maybe, sometimes, that's why we like to leave the baby in the barn.

When it comes right down to it, Christ didn't come to fulfill the ideologies built up by the deeply religious, those who knew all the stories. He didn't come to fulfill the ideologies of those who revere the glittery, shiny, fragile version of the Nativity. Christ was born in a humble place, to fulfill the longing of the unstudied, the aching, the unclean-those who could only describe him as "That baby in the barn." Those who dearly wanted to be able to take the baby out of the manger and hold him close.

That baby could have been born in a palace, or temple, in the Most Holy of Holies within the temple, had God willed the story to go that way. If he had, multitudes would have been happier with the story of the birth of the savior. God likes to crush our preformed ideas of "how it should go" because our ideas cannot compare, or even remotely encompass the amazing story that happens when God shows us how the story really goes.

Christmas was just the beginning of another chapter of God's fantastic story...and in the beginning of any story, no one really knows what is going on besides the author. We need to remember that it is alright for people not to understand. Just like the first Christmas, there were lots of people who didn't understand what the the fuss was about. And it's important that we don't shut people out or shoot them down, just because they don't have the all the Sunday school answers. Thankfully, God doesn't do that to us! Interest starts with curiosity, and curiosity has to be rewarded.

I'm glad I had to make that one more stop that night.

There were 3 things I needed to take with me out Target that night:

1. The reminder that it's okay for us to allow Christmas to be humble. More than just okay, it's beautiful.

2. Christmas would be worthless if the baby never left the manger, just like Easter wouldn't matter with the savior never left the cross, and it's important to think of Christmas as the beginning, rather than the focal point.

3. File folders. Good thing I needed those, because I never had the first two items on my shopping list.

Fortunate

"So, are you out the door at the clock today, or are you hanging around to get work done?"

My coworker asks at lunch the Friday before the school break finally arrives.

 

"Out the door!" I respond, "I have stuff to do!"

"Errands?"

"No, I'm headed to the coast."

"Niiice, the beach!"

"Meh, the beach may happen, but I'm not much for the beach. I told my Grandad I'd visit, and they just happen to live near the beach."

A pause happens. 

I expect to hear something about how cute or quaint it is that I would use vacation time to visit grandparents.

 The pause extends long enough to become thoughtful.

"You're fortunate, you know."

The normally jocular tone has turned completely pensive, 

"Not too many adults still get to visit their grandparents."

 And now it's my turn to take a pensive pause.

It doesn't feel right to go into great detail for my coworker about how fortunate is too brief of a statement.

 Sometimes I get busy, and distracted from this fortune. Even during the times I am careless though, I am still greatly blessed.

But it's nice to be reminded of what I am.

So I nod.

"Yes, very fortunate."

Balance.

When I was in high school, my youth pastor drew a diagram. It was a bulls eye. Relationships are arranged like the target symbol.

The center of the target, the bulls eye, is where you are. It's a tight spot, not a lot of room for many others. The next ring would be your close friends and family. It's still a smaller space, but it can fit a few more people. These are the few who you trust with your most precious cargo and your most morbid confessions. The next ring are your fun friends, the ones who are great to be around, you spend time with them, but you wouldn't necessarily ask them to help you with something too personal, or share too much with them, but it's a larger number of people. These rings go all the way out to acquaintances. His point was, not everyone you know can be on the same level of friendship. There is just not enough room or time to make that work, and it's okay to have the few who you trust more than others. In fact, it is wise. You would not want some of those acquaintances on the outside ring sitting by your side during nerve wracking doctor's appointments or other such sensitive moments. 

Balance.

This simile obviously made sense to me, as it still crosses my mind over 10 years after the illustration.

It was perhaps the first time that I considered balance in life without connecting that balance to equal shares. It was probably the crack in the icy shell that had shielded me from the revelation of balance of time within life.


A few years later, this concept grew again for me. I was spending all of my time studying, attending labs and classes, taking field trips, and studying for tests. I was driving myself insane. I was isolating myself, and sinking into depression because of it. Finally, on a whim of a breaking point, I looked at my textbooks one Sunday morning and said, "I'm done." For the rest of my undergrad career, I did not do school stress on Sundays. Balance. I realized, as long as I allowed it to happen, all of my days would be consumed by stress and fret. Deciding on one day that was off limits meant that I had to make better use of the time that was not off limits, work harder on Saturdays, and in between classes on weekdays. It meant no longer having to face "study guilt" on Sundays when I failed to get around to studying, because I no longer had any intention of studying. It meant peace. Reviewing priorities. Liking myself. Enjoying life. It meant balance.

Through the years I have worked in different areas. As an adult out of school, work is addicting. It is a place with structure and ritual, much like school once was. It can eat a person alive. It tried to eat me alive. In each new environment, I again had to relearn to set boundaries that created balance. It's okay to take overtime, but there has to be a limit. There is no shame in saying no when that early morning phone call comes. Balance. It means deciding to make better lunch decisions a few times a week so as to not be physically torn down. It means learning which conversations to take part in and which ones to fall silent in, to prevent from being emotionally torn down. It means remembering that there are relationships in my life that are more important than the ones I try to establish with my colleagues, and that just because I am socially worn out from working with people all day does not mean that my need for meaningful social time with the real relationships in my life has been met. It means actively insuring that I don't get so distracted and filled up by work fluff, that I forget to lay the foundations of life. Making sure I don't attend the company Christmas party and then forget to actually celebrate Christmas with those I love. It means instigating balance, sometimes by force.

And now, stepping into a career, I find a new level of balance must be learned. In a job, I can clock out and go home, leave the issues next to the clock and pick them up on my way back in. In a career, I have a harder time finding the border between home and work. In a job, if you get fired, you move on to the next job and learn a new skill set. In a career, you have laid down so much official training, that to moving to another career would require pausing for more education before being able to apply to be a rookie in another field. When I worked jobs, there was never any point in time that I found cause to stay behind unpaid and work a little longer. In a career, it comes down to my reputation, which has often mean staying 3-5 hours late on a regular basis to make sure everything runs smoothly every day.  Combine that with having been in school last year, and I can easily admit: there was no balance last year, only survival.

So here I am, learning a new level of balance. It makes sense to me. In school, with every grade, in gymnastics, with every level, in karate, with every belt, in band, with every music piece mastered, there was always another challenge to overtake, another improvement to make. It is the same thing with learning to apply balance to life, there is always a new level to learn. Whether it is balance within family, school, friendships, activities, finances, jobs, careers, every new situation requires new balancing skills.

This year, I am actively focusing on some areas to improve my balance. I want to read books for fun again. Leave work before the sun sets more often. Go for walks and bike rides. Spend time with people who will still care about me in a couple of years. Write more often. Take naps with my cat. Take better care of my garden. Travel more. Eat better. Play a lot more games, and crack a lot more jokes around kitchen tables. I want to intentionally invest in the parts of my life that matter most to me.

This year, I want to balance better.

The time change is today. You have an extra hour. How's your balance?

Lessons Learned So Far: Teaching-Year 2, Entry 1

1. You're never fully dressed without a smile.........Unless they are seriously in trouble.  If you're always good humored and smiling, then the moment the straight face appears, the fear sets in. Very handy.

2. Don't judge books by covers: Some of your most fantastic textbooks will have gum and poorly rendered drawings of things that the book wasn't originally intended to teach. Some kids present as excellent students, and yet will do no homework, pay very little attention, flunk tests, and put gum in your books. Some students will look like they're in an open-eyed coma, and come out super genius whenever their names get pulled, test scores come back, and homework gets turned in.

3. Never trust the schedule. Never. Not for one minute. Never. Never. Never.

4. No matter how thoroughly you have thought through a plan or system, until you test it on people, you will still never get all the kinks thought out ahead of time.

5. Teaching students sitting in desks is a very different process than teaching students seated at lab tables.

6. It's visibly filthier to have carpet flooring than linoleum.

7. The Promethean board is awesome.

8. Apparently, you can have too many student aides. Never would have dreamed it.

9. 8th graders can break marbles, even at table level. Seriously, it happened.

10. Someone will always attempt to steal the lab equipment. I don't know why, because we only use cheap lab materials. Hopefully, it'll be one of the broken items.

11. When purchasing a skateboard, buy one with metal axles, not plastic. 8th grades can break those, too.

12. 8th graders are capable of more than they let on. They are capable of more than they understand. They are capable of achieving high goals, if they are given the careful framework to get them there, and you refuse to ever doubt your expectations.

13. Whether they have to take the CST or the SBAC- at the end of the year, they still have to know science and how to think. That's a big enough task to worry about.

14. OneDirection is not as cool anymore. This makes using tricks from last year's slides work less. Darn pop culture.

15. Matter of fact works way better than frustration when dealing with discipline moments.

16. Crack down on unwanted behaviors fast.

17. Don't over help. If they need a pencil, remind them that they know where the borrow pencils are. Don't get it for them. Or else they'll just wait for you to do it next time, too.

18. You're part of their transition to adulthood, make sure you're an effective part. Junior high is the beginning of child to adult mutation. They have to learn about appropriate behavior in the work environment. It starts with junior high teachers, if we insist on it.

19. Put a line in the hallway and expect students to be in it before they enter the classroom. Their brains work soooooo much better that way.

20. Require the first five minutes of class to be silent work, and then go to the mat for the silence. It's amazing how much the behavior and focus improves if they have to practice containing themselves for 5 minutes every day (Also, they get their homework copied down much faster).

21. Simple rubrics are the most wonderful things in the world. Make some. Make them broad enough that they apply to multiple assignments, but narrow enough that when someone wants to argue the grade, there is a rule sheet to reference. Teach them how to rubric themselves. Show them to the parents. Quality, performance, attitude and metacognition improve. Arguments, excuses, and grading time decrease.

22. Teaching is more than informational. Teaching requires to see individuals. Teaching requires knowing when to reach out and offer help, and when to allow problems to resolve themselves. Teaching is knowing when to do a student a favor, and when to do them a favor by not doing them a favor. It requires knowing where to draw the lines. Knowing which student needs nothing more than a fist bump and nod in the hallway, and which one needs to hear, "Are you okay?" Teaching is figuring out what each individual defines as respecting them as people. Teaching is hard.

23. The moment you call the tech guy in is the moment the projector will get jostled by a careless kid and magically start working. If you're lucky. Otherwise, the tech guy will actually make there, jostle it himself, and then look at you quizzically, as if you didn't try every useful and useless trick in the book first.

24. Sticky notes are like 20 dollar bills. It's handy to have a stack of them, and they disappear fast.

25. If you like your prep, remember, next year you could easily get moved from 7th period prep to 4th period.

26. Fourth period prep makes for an optimum restroom break.

27. Dang...

28. Love your librarian. You don't realize how valuable she is until she disappears for a few weeks.

29. The food shack across the street sells large fountain drinks with the "good ice" for a dollar. Pepsi products!

30. The second year is leaps and bounds better than the first.

31. BTSA's main reason for existing is to suck the life out of the minimal amount of free time you have.

32. Science fair. It's a love hate relationship. You have to drive the students into their projects by using pitchforks and torches, and then the students chase you down during every single one of your spare moments to talk about the projects non-stop, asking questions you've already given them notes on(and they usually forget to remind you which project they're working on, which can make listening very interesting), but they weren't listening to the directions at that time because they hadn't picked a project yet. But then... they are talking to a teacher about science, during which time they ask questions, and there's a spark in their eyes that says "Sometimes science is really fun!"...and then you think: I love science fair...even though it tries to eat me alive.

33. Don't let that one kid who loves to waste time use the pencil sharpener. Especially if he is also borrowing your pencil. Enough said.

34. The second year can still be really difficult and overwhelming at times.

35. Instruction for English Learners changes severely when their Native language is not Spanish.

36. Sometimes, when school is out, you have to learn to step back and say: No...today I am not a teacher. I am not spending the whole day grading things, or working something out on the computer for Monday. Today I am going for a walk, taking a nap, doing my Bible study, hanging with friends...any thing but teacher stuff.

37. Sometimes you still have to be a teacher, and sometimes you talk above mentioned friends in to grading things with you.

38. When you plan a lab, carefully set it up, plan out all the steps, decide how to divide the students, decide how much of the lab you will guide and how much they will, decide what they will write on their papers, what they will turn in, buy all of the materials necessary, plus extras. That way, on lab day, while you are sitting under a table during a surprise earthquake drill during half a period, you can sit and think about preparation. And you'll wonder why you forget that drills always seem to coincide with lab days...

Darkness

Friendly warning: This post deals with darker emotions. Proceed at your own risk.

It’s like my whole chest has been bound in iron, and no matter how many deep breaths I take, something deep inside me is still asphyxiating. It’s like I’m being held under water, and no matter how hard I kick, how much my lungs burn and muscles ache, I can’t reach the surface; I don’t die, but I’m getting too tired to keep thrashing. It’s like everyone else’s soul is a burlap sack, sometimes empty, and sometimes filled with butterflies, and mine is filled with wet sand. It takes all my energy to get me and my bag of sand moving, let alone participate in life. Even when I get my soul off the ground, I can only pretend to be able to carry it for a short time before collapsing again. It’s as if everything but my brain has been given anesthetic, and all my brain can seem to process are my damages and failures, my insufficiencies. It’s knowing I have important things to do, but being unable to break myself away from staring into nothingness long enough to prevent myself from ruining my own life. It’s the despair of knowing I am ruining my own life. It’s having the desperate need to shriek uncontrollably, and lacking the strength to do so. It’s finding out that even when I muster up the courage and strength to scream, it doesn’t make the feeling go away. It’s feeling like I am rotting from the inside out. And, drawing from an illustration made in Unshaken, it’s feeling as if I’m trapped in a dark elevator shaft alone under the rubble of a collapsed hotel, and knowing that 

no one can come to rescue me.

 It’s all of those things, and then the understanding that these feelings aren’t changing…perhaps they will never end.

So, I try to fake it. I can’t imagine a way to express those feelings, I can’t bear the thought of dealing with people after trying to share those feelings, I don’t want to burden someone I love with my darkness. I force smiles, and avoid eye contact. I deflect questions with distracting humor, or redirecting questions, or flippant responses. I make myself insanely busy. I have moments where I hide in a quiet place. I find secret, harmful ways to deal with the darkness alone.

Depression.

I hate talking about it. I hate admitting to having struggled with it. I hate the stigma the very word carries. I hate how flippantly it is used. I hate how people try to use it interchangeably with trivial words, like “sad,” “disappointed” and “blue.”

Depression is not sadness. It’s not a mood. It’s engulfing, raging, oppressive darkness. It’s sneaky.

People who struggle with depression can often feel like they are the only broken ones. People who bear this omnipresent darkness usually keep it a secret.

I am relieved to say that I am not currently dealing with it myself, but I remember how it felt. I remember feeling like I was the only one who knew this darkness. I also remember well intentioned people mistaking it for the blues, encouraging me to “just cheer up, tomorrow will be a better day.” I remember knowing a despairing feeling as I thought about the fact that tomorrow would not likely be a better day after all: it would likely be the same kind of day that every day has been for the past several months. I remember only partially enjoying the “up moments” in that period of time, because I had learned from pattern that they would only crash down again, and the darkness would hurt more after having almost felt normal for a few hours. I remember feeling like a ghost while being with my friends or family, watching them have a good time, and only being able to watch, not feel it.

Mostly, however, I remember feeling alone. And irreparable. And crazy. Why couldn’t I just buck up? Why couldn’t I conjured enough faith, pray hard enough, repent loudly enough for the darkness to go away?

That’s particularly something Christians have to struggle against. There are many within the faith who would like to point the finger at the faith of the sufferer, shake their heads at the need for psychology, or anti-depressants. Christians who need these things get convinced they should feel ashamed of their lesser faith.

But Jesus knew the feeling. “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” I know I have not been crucified, or felt the burden of all of humanity’s sin upon me, but I also know that I have heard my soul cry out a similar phrase. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest.” (Psalm 22:1-2) Jesus felt a deeper darkness than I ever have. Part of me believes that these phrases were recorded for us: the ones who brush against an inner darkness for a long extent of time, sometimes repeatedly throughout life, the ones who feel isolated by this darkness.

It is ridiculous that anyone can think that people who struggle with depression are of a weaker faith. It takes an enormous faith to dwell in a dark and lonely place for so long and still maintain a belief in a god who is still worth following--to believe in a God who loves you, when you cannot fathom loving yourself. The kind of faith that can stand to “be still and know” through that kind of inner death is the same kind of faith that walks on water. Read through the Bible. Look at the prophets and heroes of faith. A high percentage of them battled with the inner darkness as well. It’s right there, right smack dab in the middle of their amazing life stories. I don’t think it is a coincidence that so many people God used in great ways also struggled with depression.

I have never been more secure in the fact that my God is a great and powerful God than when I had nothing but paralyzing emptiness. That knowledge remains with me even after the darkness faded. 

That’s right: it fades. One way or another, we survive. Sometimes-No-Usually, we need help to survive, whether it is family support, medical support, psychological support, or all of it, and there is no shame in any of it, no matter what some self appointed authorities on faith might say. No matter what that accusing voice in the back of my own mind says.

And after the darkness fades, I am aware that it could come back someday, and I need to be prepared to deal with it again, but I also know that I survived it. There is a certain level of strength that comes from that knowledge. It’s a strength that I never knew before.

I have already confided in you that I hate bringing this topic up in public. So, why, you may ask, did I write such a long confession?  Two reasons. 

One: Perhaps if people who have never experienced the darkness read the brief summary of how the darkness feels, they will be less likely to make themselves a part of the burden for those in the midst of darkness.

Two: People who are in the midst of darkness or may someday be in the midst of it need to know that darkness is not forever. Perhaps if people who have made it through darkness talked about it while they are on the upside of the battle, then people who struggle with it will feel less alone…less crazy, more able to talk about it with someone they can trust. People who are asphyxiating no matter how deeply they breathe need to know. They need to know that it’s not shameful. It does not have to be fatal. 

If you have felt the darkness, are feeling it now, or have family members who deal with it (because it is genetic), you need to know: You are not a burden. You are carrying a burden, but that burden, that darkness, is not who you are. Don’t bear it alone. 

It’s okay to looked a trusted person in the eye and respond, “Broken.” When they ask, “How are you feeling today?” It’s okay to ask someone to hold your hand in the midst of the darkness. 

You would be surprised how many people have brushed against that darkness, too.

Fallen Short

"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God"

(Romans 3:23)

Almost everyone recognizes this verse. We teach it to our toddlers. Those of us who have grown up in the church, AWANAs, Sunday School, VBS... we know it by heart.

The teacher in me needs to step out of this indoctrination for a moment and ask a question. Does anyone see anything wrong with this quotation? Yes, Jimmy? That's right: it's not a complete sentence! There is no capital letter, which means there is something that comes before it, and there is no punctuation, which means that there is something that comes after it.

I challenge you, quick, before you grab your Bibles or skip on over to Biblegateway.com, what is the whole idea that this excerpt has been chopped out of the middle of? Don't know off of the top of your head? I didn't either. However, when I was assigned to look up 3:23 and read it, just 23, seeing it in the middle of a paragraph bothered me... so I read the whole thing.

Ladies and gentleman, a paragraph from Romans 3:

¹⁹ Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. ²⁰ Therefore by the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin.

²¹ But now the righteousness of God apart from the law is revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, ²² even the righteousness of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, to all and on all who believe. For there is no difference; ²³ for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, ²⁴ being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, ²⁵ whom God set forth as a propitiation by His blood, through faith, to demonstrate His righteousness, because in His forbearance God had passed over the sins that were previously committed, ²⁶   to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.²⁷ Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? Of works? No, but by the law of faith. ²⁸ Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith apart from the deeds of the law.

Now, I understand that the whole paragraph is awfully big for a toddler to memorize, but isn't "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" awfully heavy? Especially without the good part of the story? We don't let our kids go to movies with scary scenes, but they can memorize "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." and then follow it up with, "For the wages of sin is death;" (Romans 6:23a) (Yet another verse with suspicious punctuation warning all that we shortened because it was too big, and in turn made it too heavy by cutting out the wordy redemption part. In this one, we didn't just clip a verse out of a paragraph, we clipped a phrase out of a verse!) 

I remember not liking those verses for as long as I have memorized them. I still sigh and roll my eyes as I hear them being taught to the new generation of guilt ridden followers. They only made me feel dirty, shameful. What a horrible use of the Bible. In their entirety, they were supposed to make me feel blessed and treasured.

As adults, we mentally clip scriptures regularly as often as our subconscious feels the need to beat us down. We bask in our failures and forget the parts that glorify God's overcoming them. We need to be focusing on the whole story to be able to battle when our subconscious starts clipping the good parts out. After all, since when did any story lover stop in the middle of the chaos and trial portion of the book, and decide to move on to something else? Never. We cling to the story until the redemption, the rescue, the victory comes through.

We need the whole story.

Romans 6: 21-23 

 What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death!  But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.  For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 3:22-23

This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.  

Because we are all too aware of our sins and falling short. We know without needing to be told that we carry death within us. What we really need to memorize, carry with us, be reminded of regularly is the rest of the story.

"but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

"all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. "

As for toddlers memorizing things, if they are not mature enough to handle the size of: "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." or all of Romans 3:22-23, then maybe we ought to reconsider whether they are mature enough to handle the weight of, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" and "For the wages of sin is death"

It scares us, because rule followers are easier to raise and control, but I truly believe that in a room of adults, we'd rather be locked in with the grace believers than the rule followers. Maybe grace is what needs to be drilled in from toddlerhood, rather than fear and insufficiency.

Because what is the point of learning about death and failure, if we do not learn about life, grace, and the glory of God?

If we do not learn both parts, then by clipping verses and redemption ideas apart, this is an area in which we have truly fallen short for both ourselves and our toddlers.

Follow the shadows

I exist when the shadows lean to the West.

And depart when they yearn for the East.

I remain when the sun leaves our hemisphere.

And wander off when it comes too close.

I'm the storm that overcomes senseless chaos.

And the stillness that listens to rain.

I embark on a path among wild saplings.

But leave the forest when trees are found.

I start alone but travel among many.

I end alone, then begin again.

I follow the shadows and find the saplings.

I heed the sun, and search for the trees.

Is That Supposed to Be a Picket Fence?

(This is not my picture, but when I thought about going to take a picture of a lovely house and picket fence, I realized the neighbors might get creeped out...thanks Google Images)

    Growing up, everyone has a basic idea of what life will be like when they are "grown up." We hear even little children talk about, "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry so-and-so..." and "My house will look like..." It's a natural process for children, and honestly, it's just plain cute. It's interesting how this process starts in everyone so young, this drive to achieve the American middle class dream. I started calling these the "Picket fence" dreams, because a house, a spouse, a dog, some kids, a yard, and a picket fence to keep it all in seems to be the most common picture of middle class success and happiness. It may not be everyone's personal dream picture, but we all know and recognize those picket fence dreams of how we thought our lives were supposed to go, or the pattern we think others expect our lives to follow, way back when  we were solidifying our versions of "right" and "wrong" "good" and "bad" in our childhood psyches. They all lend to the pattern and timeline people feel their lives should follow, if they are doing it right.
     As a whole, picket fence dreams are not necessarily wrong. They can be sweet and positive things. The problem comes when picket fences don't  mesh with someone's personal dreams. Sometimes those two ideals conflict uncompromisingly. Then there is the other, very real issue: Picket fence dreams cannot always be happily accomplished by sheer effort and force of will. Sometimes life does not land that way. Sometimes we are left feeling insufficient.

     The truth of the matter is, I have no picket fence around my yard. I didn't follow a path that led to a yard with a picket fence. I might never live that picket fence life. The hardest truth I had to learn about this is that I like my fence free life. I like the adventure that a less than typical path has allowed me. For the longest time, I felt that I needed to explain, justify, or just feel insufficient and shuffle off to a corner over the fact that I did not marry right out of school, I have no children, I have no house, I did not settle into a career straight out of school, I have no dog in my yard, I have no prospective leads that may lead to that life, and (here's the zinger) I do not have those things because I did not choose those things. I did not choose those things because my priorities were and are different. That last part was the hardest part for me to understand fully.

       I am in the life I am in now not because I am insufficient at life in general, but because it is the life I am best suited to live right now.

      It's like this: In the beginning, we are all given this box of materials with no directions inside.

We grow up, looking around, observing others, listening to other people's descriptions of what they did with their own box of materials. What we see is that everybody used their materials to build picket fences and beautiful lives. Some of us decide those lives and picket fences are so great, that we decide to build similar ones of our own, and this thrills us. Another set of us decide that because that is what everyone did with their box of materials, this must be what that box of materials is for, and so we dutifully decide to build picket fences just like them. As we try to do so, we develop resentment towards our awkward, lopsided, ugly fences and also the people who built beautiful fences.

     For the latter half of us, the main error is assuming that this is what everyone did with their box of materials. The reason we do this is because cute homes and picket fences are the most visible, recognizable constructions from similar boxes of materials. We fail to realize that the people who built zoos, airplanes, boats, bridges, restaurants, hang gliders, museums, and bike paths also started with similar boxes of materials. They just looked into their box, looked at the houses and picket fences around them, and said, "That's cool, but I can't sail to Iceland on a picket fence...and I think I'd rather go sailing."  or, "This would make a fantastic elephant cage! Let's go find an elephant!!!"

     I personally failed to see those things, because first, I didn't realize they started with boxes too, and second, people who decide to build airplanes with their boxes typically do not park their airplanes in the neighborhood for little kids who are trying to decide what to do with this seemingly random box of materials to notice. Third, while the boxes of materials may be similar,  I made the mistake of assuming that everybody's box is identical. They are not. Not at all. It can be very frustrating for a person to try to work a propeller into the creation of a picket fence, but sometimes, they try anyway.
 




   In the end, we all build something. We all get splinters, smash our thumbs, and run into problems, no matter what we end up building. The difference is, the people who really looked at their boxes to see what the materials actually inspire and then look themselves to see what their souls are built for, end up building quality products that they love, and the splinters, smashed thumbs, and broken pieces are just minor details in their stories of success, because they loved building it. The people who take their boxes and try to force them into what they think everyone else thinks they must create, end up with half-hearted excuses for picket fences or airplanes, splinters that fester enough to cause gangrene, an unexplainable sense of shame, and an unshakeable aura of bitterness.

It's not wrong to build a cute home and a picket fence, if that's what your box and your soul agree on.

It's also not wrong, quirky, or absurd to end up building an airplane, zoo, tree house, boat, or whatever, instead, if that's what makes your particular soul dance. What matters is this: Whatever you end up building, will you be happy or bitter about the splinters you suffered while building it?

Quaint, I know, but it has taken a long time for me to reach and fully accept this weird little epiphany of mine.

(Thanks, Google)

Now, I'm off to find a hang-gliding okapi to add to my flying treehouse zoo-restaurant thing, but I'll leave you with this sticky note:

What's in your box? What's in your soul? What are you building? Are your splinters worth it?

Is your picket fence an airplane?