Sunday, October 7, 2012

Had I known...

Had I known the end result, I would never have suggested we play What Time is it Mr. Fox?
I remembered the shiny wood floor and the shrieks of happy kids in the gym in elementary school.  What could be wrong with happily shrieking kids, playing a game together, on a day designed exactly for that?
There were about 4 left, uncaught.  The "hungry foxes" stood in the middle, waiting for the run and the capture.  They never did get the concept of staying inside the boundaries.  "It's 12:00!" they shouted, and pandemonium broke loose until they all decided to form some kind of order again at approximately the right place.
I was there, directing the game.  I was watching them run, thinking "I gotta figure out how to get them to just run to a certain area and then stop."  I missed the running, the tripping, the falling on the ground.  But I felt the tugging on my shirt.  "His hand, his hand!"  And I snapped back into reality and I was the one running.
I saw him laying there on the ground, screaming, his wrist humped at a totally unnatural angle.  "My hand!  My hand!"  he screamed.  I had a brief flashback to my own broken wrist 16 years ago and in a split second, I knew the sickening feeling my mom must have felt as she saw my unnaturally curved wrist.  I picked him up in my arms, only realizing later that I didn't even feel his weight.  I ran with him to the parent with him that day, my only explanation: "He hurt his hand."  Somehow, it didn't seem right to say that I thought he broke his wrist.  Then he was in other arms and I was surrounded by kids, shocked into silence by the horror of the moment.
"Grab hands.  We're going to pray for Rodrigo," I tried to force calm into me.  Were we going to pray for Rodrigo or his family or us?  Maybe all of it.  Their voices repeated my words.  "Lord Jesus, please help Rodrigo.  Please do a miracle in his life.  Please bring peace to him and his family.  Touch him and heal him." 
And then we walked away, the spirit of the game gone.  JosuĂ© walked beside me.  "It's not my fault, miss," he assured me.  "He was running and he tripped and fell."  Oh, how I wished for the ability to be like a child, to recognize that it wasn't my fault, to not feel responsible.  Already, the deep guilt of responsibility weighed heavy on my shoulders.  "No, honey, I know it's not your fault.  It's an accident and accidents happen."  How can those words sound so sure when my heart is saying the exact opposite?
And then I tried to figure out what to do.  Everywhere I looked, I imagined accusation in eyes, whispering voices.  "There's the teacher who was playing with the kids when the one feel and broke his wrist."  "She should never have been playing that game with them."  "What was she thinking anyway?  She's so irresponsible."  "You're guilty."
And in my heart, I heard another voice.  "There is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."  "You could not have possibly known what would happen."  "His dad was right there watching.  A bunch of parents were right there watching and no one was saying anything or giving any indication that the game was not appropriate."  "You are not responsible for accidents." 
And yet, the guilt-voices seemed so much more logical, so much more RIGHT than the other one.  I WAS right there.  It WAS my idea.  And now a kid was hurt on his way to the hospital and there would be medical expenses and it was ALL MY FAULT.
A mom from my class came up and gave me a bag of fried pork rinds to share with all the teachers.  I gave it to someone else to give to the teachers as I realized that we had doctors on the grounds and there was something I could do.  Running, I tried to connect all the involved parties, only to find that the child and his family were already on the way to the hospital. So I just went and stood, feeling like I deserved neither the pork rinds, nor the company of the other teachers.  I didn't even deserve the now-smashed piece of bread or the apple I'd packed in my backpack for my snack.  I deserved anger, deserved to feel every ounce of the weight of the guilt piling on my shoulders, deserved the shouting voices of condemnation in my heart.
And yet, they called me over, that circle of teachers sitting on the ground.  I swallowed deep inside the tears that wanted to slide out.  I could let no one see how much of a horrible teacher I was.  But I had to tell the director.  And her calm was amazing, compared to the torment in my soul.  My calm as I talked to her amazed me also.  Those tears stayed deep in their hiding place.
I deserved condemnation (at least in my mind), but it never came.  Instead, I received pork rinds, paneton (fruit cake) and bottled juice.  I received the support of the director.  I received understanding and sympathy.  I received the encouragement of my mom as I relayed the incident to her later.  I received, in short, grace.
Eventually, after a few hours and several retellings of the incident, after talking on the phone and hearing that the boy was fine and "Accidents like that happen", I realized that the condemnation was being overpowered by the love and grace of a God whose truth I could finally begin to believe.
And I heard His voice saying two things in my heart:
 - If anyone wants to enter into the kingdom of heaven, he must become like a little child.  JosuĂ© recognized that, logically, it was not his fault.  The kids, after a few minutes, were playing again as if nothing had happened.  As long as I get stuck tripping and falling over condemnation and accusation, I'll never be able to receive grace, love and mercy.  I'll never be able to trust God or just trust that what He says is truth.
 - And had I known what would happen, I would have been God.  If I make myself responsible for the entire world, I am putting myself in the place of God.  And He doesn't exactly need (or want) a replacement.
Not saying that I've learned these things yet.  Just saying God's spoken them and I've heard them.  They're THERE. 
Had I known...I wouldn't have suggested What Time is it Mr. Fox.  But then again, accidents don't require games or teachers to happen and bones break even under the hawk-eyed stare of parents.
Had I known...I would have been God.  So I guess I can maybe think about letting Him worry about His own job and just do mine.  I think that's what He wants me to do anyway.
Oh grace...will I ever understand you?

Monday, June 25, 2012

Inspired by GT

I read my Bible and I hear songs playing through my head.  Really.

Growing up in the 80's and 90's we had several children's tapes of Bible verses set to music.  The tapes belonged to a series called GT and the Halo Express.  To this day, I could probably sing some of the verses better than I could say them.  Seriously.
So when I decided I wanted to teach my kids Bible verses, I started putting them to music.  And, lo and behold, the same thing happened!  And then I ran into a problem.  We were memorizing verses for which I didn't know any songs.  So I started making up my own songs.  Or God started making them up for me.  Whatever the case may be, I sit down at the beginning of each new month, look at the verse, and most times a song pops into my head without too much effort.  And the fun thing is, I'm learning the verses too, with my kids! 
I'm kinda disappointed this year because I don't get to teach Bible class to my kids.  I don't have enough hours in my day (literally).  However, the teacher who does teach them has been enthusiastic about singing the Bible verse songs with them.  The other morning, during Bible class, as they were working on coloring a worksheet, they just started singing Luke 10:27 and didn't stop!  It was too good an opportunity to pass it up, so I ran to the office and grabbed the school camera.  When I came back, Miss Martha, the Bible teacher, had encouraged them to sing all 4 of the verses we've learned this year!  So I stood in the doorway and got them on video.  Perfect?  Nope!  But it was special to me.  Enjoy!

Click here to hear my kids singing. :)

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Of Fleas and Flies

We were in English class, working on some vocabulary words.  I was concentrated on what we were doing and looked up just in time to see Andreas hit Joshua over the head with his pencil case.  Of course, being the teacher and looking out for the well-being of my students, I was like "Andreas, WHAT are you DOING?"  Innocent as can be, he looks at me and says "There was a fly on his head!"  At which point I completely cracked up laughing.  And you know that when the teacher cracks up, that means the ENTIRE CLASS follows suit!  And you can probably imagine how hard it is to try to get some seriousness back into your class when 21 kids are looking at you giggling. :)  Oh my...

And then, just as I was getting ready to head home, I was handing back some math books to Miss Rocio's class, homeworks that were not done or incomplete that need to be completed.  I was explaining to Yanpier what he needed to do in his book and noticed he had an odd expression on his face.  As I finished explaining to him, he looked at me (again completely innocently) and said, "I just swallowed a flea!".  At which point I cracked up again.  I think he thought I didn't believe him because I was laughing at him and he kept saying "No, I really did!  I'm not making it up!" (which made me laugh even harder)!  I finally had to explain to him that I did believe him, but it was just funny to me what he had said.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Toad's Garden

Source: Frog and Toad Together
(My apologies to Arnold Lobel. This is a paraphrase, not an exact quote)
Yes, this does have a point. Read to the end.

The Garden
One day, Toad walked to Frog's house. Frog was in his garden.
"What a beautiful garden you have, Frog!" said Toad.
"Thank you," said Frog. "It was a lot of hard work".
"I wish I had a garden," said Toad.
"Here are some flower seeds. Plant them, and soon you will have a beautiful garden," said Frog.
"How soon?" asked Toad.
"Very soon," said Frog.
Toad ran home. He planted the seeds in his garden. "Now seeds, start growing!" said Toad.
He walked up and down a few times. He looked at his garden. The seeds were not growing. Toad put his head close to the ground. Very loudly he said, "Now seeds, start growing!!" But the seeds did not grow.
Toad put his head very close to the ground. He shouted, "NOW SEEDS, START GROWING!!" But the seeds did not grow.
Frog came running. "What is all this noise?" he asked Toad.
"My seeds are not growing!" said Toad.
"You are shouting too much," said Frog. "Your seeds are scared to grow."
"My seeds are scared to grow?" asked Toad.
"Of course!" said Frog. "Let them go for a few days. Let the sun shine on them and the rain fall on them. They will grow."
That night, Toad looked out of his window. The seeds were not growing. "Maybe they are scared of the dark," said Toad. "I will read them a story." Toad took candles out to his garden. He read a long story to the seeds. The next day, he sang songs to the seeds. The next day, he read poems to the seeds. The next day, he played music for the seeds. Finally, exhausted by all his efforts, he fell asleep. He awoke to Frog, standing over him, saying "Wake up, Toad! Look at your garden!" There, where he had planted his seeds, were small sprouts.
"Now you will have a beautiful garden, too!" said Frog.
"Yes, but you were right, Frog," said Toad. "It was hard work!"

In the middle of the story this morning, as I was singing along with Toad, God suddenly spoke to me (He sometimes chooses interesting times to speak). Being a teacher (or a parent, I suppose) is often like Toad in his garden. You want those little seeds, those little hearts, to grow and RIGHT NOW, if possible! You talk till you're blue in the face. You yell sometimes. You do everything you can possibly think of to get those little seeds to grow! And then, exhausted by all your efforts, you fall asleep. And suddenly, one day, you wake up to the realization that, somehow, God has been working in their hearts and there are little green sprouts coming through the soil. You see some hope! Oh. Right. It was God.
It was a good word. Hopefully, it encourages you as much as it did me!

Monday, January 23, 2012

Breathe in...breathe out...

I've been told here in Peru that I shouldn't tell blond jokes. They consider me to be blond here. :) But, at my own risk and in order to make a point, I'm starting this post out with a blond joke.

So once there was a blond who was always wearing headphones. She wore them to sleep. She wore them to eat. She wore them to the gym. She wore them everywhere. One day, she went to the hairdresser's, still with the headphones in place, and asked for a haircut. As her hair was being cut, the hairdresser asked her to please take off her headphones, to which she responded, "I would, but I cant. If I do, I'll die." So the haircut was completed around the headphones. The same scene was repeated in 3 months and in another 3 months. Finally, the hairdresser got fed up and yanked the offending headphones off her client's head. As promised, the blond dropped over, dead as a doornail. The hairdresser got curious and wondered what in the world was playing over those crazy headphones. As she held them up to her ears, she heard this: Breathe in.....breathe out.....breathe in.....breathe out.....

I thought of this joke as I was reading Psalm 23 today. Really. I read a phrase that I've read over hundreds of times but never really processed. It goes like this:

He restores my soul (v.3)

And that means....? Good question! I asked the same thing. So I turned to my parallel versions and languages, which is where I go anytime I read a verse and go "Huh??" According to the NIV in Spanish and the Quechua Bible, it means that he gives me new strength. According to the Reina-Valera in Spanish, it means that he comforts my soul. According to the Message, it means that God gives me a place to breathe.

A place to breathe....hmmm.....

You know, I've often been thankful that breathing is an involuntary action. My life would have been extremely short had it not been for that fact. How many times do we sit down at the end of the day and say "Wow, I haven't gotten a chance to breathe all day!"? Thankfully, PHYSICAL breathing is involuntary.

It occurred to me this morning, though, that I think I could use a pair of those headphones to help me to concentrate on spiritual breathing. Unfortunately, it's not so reflexive.

Spiritual breathing......say what?! Let me explain.

First, let's think about the basics of breathing. Hang in there. I'm a teacher. I'll get past the science lesson in a second. Breathing consists of two opposite, interrelated and interdependent functions - inhalation and exhalation. Take away one and you die. Plain and simple. Okay, so what does this have to do with God, besides the fact that He created the concept? This is what He showed me this morning. Some things in life are "inhalation" things. They are the things that fill us up. They're different for everyone, but some things I thought of are devotional times, listening to worship music, quick prayers in the middle of the day, reading a good book, vacation, retreats, etc.... Other things in life are "exhalation" things. They are the things that we don't enjoy doing, the things that simply need to be done, or simply things we do where we are pouring out of ourselves into the lives of others (which, though rewarding, is many times still an exhale). Some examples I thought of are: waiting in line, taking care of a screaming baby, teaching 70 kids every day, serving all day at a restaurant, tense relationships with other people, fear, insecurity, lies, etc....

Now, here's the thing. The world thrives on exhalation. The world will take, take, take and never give. The enemy has come to steal, kill and destroy (John 10:10). And that is exactly what he will do. Unfortunately, our human default setting is "exhale". Maybe a typical day looks like this:

Get up, get ready for the day: exhale
Spend time with Jesus: inhale
Make breakfast: exhale
Get kids off to school: exhale
Road rage on the way to work: exhale
Nonstop work all morning: exhale
Lunch break: could be either, really...
Nonstop work all afternoon: exhale
Concentrating on the road on the way home: exhale
Make supper: exhale
Listen to kids fighting at the supper table: exhale
Wash dishes: exhale
Family time: inhale (hopefully)
Get kids off to bed: exhale
Pray with kids: inhale
Adult time: inhale
Sleep: could be either, really, depending on the quality of your sleep...

So you could really make a million adaptations to this list. But the point remains. The world will find an infinite number of opportunities to make us exhale. Unfortunately, we are the ones who need to find opportunities to inhale. It's not necessarily a natural skill.

The second part of that verse in John 10:10 says this "I have come that they may have life and have it to the full" (Jesus speaking). Matt 11:28-30 says this: "Come to me all you who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." Jesus has come to allow us to inhale. Jesus has come to restore our souls, to give us room to breathe, to give us new strength. The thing is, the only way we can have all that is to make time to allow Jesus and His inhalation to pierce through the world's exhalation.

Uh huh. And that looks like...? To be honest, I'm not sure what it looks like for you. It looks different for everyone. Here are some of my "inhales":
- Devotions
- Walking to and from school while listening to music
- Writing
- My list of 1000 gifts (taken from the book One Thousand Gifts - Ann Voskamp)
- Journaling
- Quick moments to connect with God throughout the day
- Scrapbooking
- Good conversations
- Andes mints while working on schoolwork
- Comfortable chair to relax in
- Looking at the mountains outside my windows

The list could go on and on. Your list is probably completely different. God's challenge to me this morning was to concentrate on that breathing in and breathing out. It's not instinctive. That's why I'd like a pair of headphones like that blond had. It's a learning curve. And yet it's possible. It also struck me this morning that this is how Jesus lived. He did it naturally. So it also helps me to be more like Jesus and walk in "paths of righteousness for your name's sake" (Ps. 23:3)

You restore my soul.
Breathe in.
You lead me in paths of righteousness
Breathe out.