weeklythoughtexchange

The classic play of Waiting for Godot depicts gullible simpletons lingering near a lone tree along a lonely road, waiting for the famed Godot to improve their fortunes and transform their meaningless lives. Despite the intriguing urges of passers-by, the men never leave their watch. Godot, of course, does not come and they never leave the tree. I think this play is figurative of many lives today – buying the lie to wait aimlessly for someone else to come along and give you what you’re not willing to pursue on your own, even if you want it.

On the other hand, many of us are like the men on the road to Emmaus. These two men were pondering the events of Christ as they proceeded on their journey. They were so consumed with their thoughts that they failed to recognize Jesus when He joined them. And so it is with many who go by the name of Christian. We have a bit more purpose than those waiting for Godot, but we are still so distracted by our finite minds and the bombardment of current events that we don’t know Jesus well enough to recognize His presence in our lives. He has much to share with us, but we cannot grasp its value if we don’t connect with Him first.

Bringing this home – am I waiting for Godot or on the road to Emmaus? Or both? I frequently become consumed with trying to achieve an impossible equilibrium. I think that if I accomplish my to-do list, plan ahead, am always surrounded by my loved ones, etc. I will be content. This is me waiting for Godot. It will never come. On the other hand, I do have a relationship with Jesus and I know that my walk with Him is all that brings meaning. I just have my own methods for trying to master that close walk. Just as the two going to Emmaus were so consumed with their own feeble attempts to understand, I do the same. But I no longer want to walk and wonder in my own strength. I welcome Jesus to walk by my side – teaching, comforting, guiding and nourishing me. May the road to Emmaus be the road that brings me home, the place where I am safe, peaceful and very loved.

I am returned from a week-long visit to our nation’s halls of history with about 20 of my students.  We spent most of our time in Washington D.C. and its surrounding sites, but we made a quick stopover in the City of Brotherly Love as well.  While the trip was a journey in many respects, the lure of history and learning has not lost its power over me. I could not help but soak in the past and apply it to my present. I spent much time listening, observing, pondering and reflecting.  I’d like to share a few of my reflections with you.

One theme that resonated with me was legacy. Our founding fathers left a legacy inscribed in stone and the annals of time.  They took time to invest in the future – not for their own selfish gain, but because they were strongly convicted that there was more to tomorrow than themselves. This is something that is missing in our current society. Few are willing to invest their time in those around them, much less the generations that are not yet even born. Ours is a self-absorbed society and the price we will pay for this egocentrism will be much higher than what our founding fathers encountered, and for a pitiful cause.

Learning was another theme that I encountered.  George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, John Q. Adams, just to name a few, were men who embraced education. They stand in the company of great men who made history because they recognized the value of education. They read and wrote and studied and argued and listened and elocuted with passion, and in doing so they expanded their minds and the minds of others. Their investment into learning founded a great country and changed the world for hundreds of years. Many of these great men were self-taught, an indicator of self-discipline and a hungry mind. Again, appreciation for education is fading in our present American society and this is a travesty. At a time when we need to master the game and be on the cutting edge of progress, we are falling behind and becoming followers. Why? Perhaps it is because we have our lost our motivation to succeed. Perhaps it is because we are too lazy to improve. An untrained mind is another man’s slave. We must beware.

Finally, liberty rang loud and clear as I gazed at the Washington Monument, wrapped my sights around the Rotunda, made eye contact with Abraham Lincoln, and read the inscription on the Liberty Bell.  Liberty is engraved in our hearts. It is for freedom that Christ has set us free from the power of sin, and it is for liberty that hundreds of thousands have died. Can we even comprehend the full value of liberty? I think not. If so, we would be more staunch defenders of it. “Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty,” is inscribed on the outside columns of the National Archives. We are not being vigilant when we lay down our arms to negotiate with terrorists. We are not being vigilant when we excuse the American genocide of our unborn citizens. We are not being vigilant when we do not groom our students for excellence in academics and character. We are not being vigilant when we erase God from our national consciousness.

As I journeyed home, I mused upon the themes that I had gleaned from this trip. I juxtaposed my 6th, 7th, and 8th graders with those who had founded America. I imagined them brushing shoulders with one another in the halls, between the stone pillars, and along the cobblestone streets. I envisioned the batons of legacy, learning and liberty being passed from the hands of history into the hands of the present. Is there a connection? A firm grasp to ensure that the batons do not slip into the gaps of time? I can’t say. Many of those hands are too busy texting. Others are sitting idly by, indifferent to the whispers of the greats. Some are too distracted by the opinions of their peers to even notice that the responsibility of tomorrow rests upon them.  Most are only seeking fun and little from yesterday could be described as that. 

But there are a few…a precious few…who are reaching through time, grasping the batons, and clasping the hands of those who read and wrote and studied and argued and listened and elocuted with passion. In doing so they will expand their minds and the minds of others. I will stand with them. What about you?

Love is causing me to ponder even more than I usually do.  As of late, I have been reflecting on the concept of relationship.  In my life I have such a diverse selection of relationships: parent-child, sibling-sibling, teacher-student, employer-employee, coworker-coworker, friend-friend, and soon, husband-wife.   Obviously, the last one on the list is the one in the forefront of my mind.  Love is so much more than saying “I do” on our wedding day. It is an eternal commitment to unconditional love. Yet what does it mean to have unconditional love? How can I justifiably say that I will be committed to loving this man unconditionally if I do not consistently show love to the other significant members of my family?

No man is an island unto himself. As citizens of the same planet, we are forced into interconnectedness. Every action will result in a ripple effect that washes over another human being.  It just so happens that the ones who experience the majority of those ripples are the ones we interact with on a very consistent basis -namely, family, friends and coworkers. Personally, I tend to give my very best to my students, then to my employers and coworkers. My family usually receives the leftovers, and sometimes that’s hardly worth the energy it takes to sweep up the crumbs.  Words are so cheap, for these are the people I claim to love unconditionally. However, when I have an opportunity to support my words with actions, I have nothing.

Unconditional love means dying to self each day.  Dying to self means putting the other person’s interests above my own.  This attitude should dominate every relationship of which I am a member.  When I am tired, I should still practice patience.  When I am on a tight schedule, I should still listen.  When I am angry, I should still restrain my bitter words. When I am hurt, I should still give the benefit of the doubt.  When I want leisure time, I should still help the one who needs to work. When I want to talk about myself, I should sincerely inquire about the other person’s day. When I want, I should give. As I practice a habit of love it will not be isolated to simply one relationship; all will benefit.

I cannot love unconditionally on my own strength. The key is found in the primary relationship in my life: the one between Jesus and me. If He has my full attention and all of my heart, if my day begins and ends with Him, if He dominates my thoughts and guides my actions, the love will come.  If that relationship is thriving, all of my relationships will thrive. If that relationship is out of sync, the rest will suffer.

I am thankful for this lesson in love.

Unexpected blessings are some of the most delightful things about being alive. One such blessing dramatically brightened my life at the beginning of this school year when I began driving Kay to school.  Prior to our acquaintance she had been receiving her academic tutelage from a neighbor; however, having reached 7th grade, her father deemed it best that she enter a more traditional school setting.  His preference was the school where I teach, but his work hours prevented him from taking her there. I offered to be her driver and so developed a most charming dimension to my life.

Kay is a petite bundle of exuberant life.  I usually pick her up between 6:30 and 6:45 every morning, but if the traffic is bad, I sometimes have to pick her up as early as 5:30.  Never have I arrived to anything but a bright smile and friendly wave as I pull into the parking lot.  She is always heavily laden with her bookbag, lunchbox, water bottle, and the binders that don’t fit into her bookbag, but there are still times when she’s managed to add to the mix an edible treat for me.

As I drive, she resets the clock that usually decides to lag behind overnight. We sing to her Taylor Swift CD or else we listen to AirOne and then she downloads my favorite songs onto my Iphone.  Functioning as my copilot, she opens up my drink or holds my breakfast so I can eat at the traffic lights.  Serving as my secretary, she takes my phone calls or sends text messages at my dictation.  We find things to keep the commute fresh each morning, such as guessing the exact time we’ll pull into our stall at school or deciding which route will be the fastest by avoiding the most traffic.  We usually listen to the 7:00 news and discuss the current events and the impact they have on us.  I marvel at how her thought process has matured over the past 8 months. Kay genuinely listens and quickly learns.

Initially, our conversation maintained the expected surface politeness. We talked about fashion, weather, school projects, and social interactions. But as days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, our conversation has evolved into much more. The topics we muse upon are nearly familial: how to cultivate deeper relationships within our own families; how to better encourage friends at school; the proper conduct a young lady should have when interacting with young men; living our conviction that Jesus is realer; the dangers of gossip and cheating; plans for the future; marriage; and so much more.  Never have I realized how deeply conversation matters to a developing mind.

Driving Miss Kay has extended my world. I now know the intricacies of braces, the excitement of baseball, the inside scoop on how my students are responding to my assignments, the complexities of the social circles that my students rotate through, the fascination of Instagram, the fads of moustaches and the name Bob, the simple entertainment that can come from a new water bottle or a recycled knock-knock joke, and the popularity of hot Cheetos.  But most of all, I have learned  that nothing quite compares to opening your heart to another opportunity to love someone.

Kay is a daily reminder to me that I impact other people. My every action performed or word emitted in her presence is being duly noted. I can either model a sincere commitment to Christ or a fake one. My choice will forever shape her opinion of what it means to live for Jesus. I hope and pray that whenever Miss Kay reflects back upon her 7th grade year she will fondly remember driving with Miss T and know that there will always be someone willing to sing Taylor Swift with her. Most of all, I hope that she will know that I will always be happy to be her driver again.

On a road that stretches into the distance as far as the eye can see:

Me: This road seems endless. Can’t you move a bit faster?

Time: But when I’m gone I won’t be back.

Me: Yeah, but I want to see what’s around the next bend!

Time: What about the pleasantness of right here?

Me: Surely up ahead is better.

Time: Ok then, if you’ve made up your mind and you insist…

Me: Wait! Stop! Don’t go so fast! My parents are aging and my favorite pets are too! The kids are soon to be teenagers. My friends are moving away! I miss the routine I had before and now I have many more responsibilities…

Time: I tried to warn you. I have no hands for you to hold on to, nor feet to hold me in place. I pass steadily, like a heartbeat, pausing for no one. It is not I who moves so quickly. Rather, it is your impatience that blinds you to the delight of my present pace; your inability to value my steadiness that urges you to count the moments until I’m gone.

Me: Are you saying that looking forward to the future doesn’t have to mean despising the waiting? Instead, it can actually be the first stage of enjoying the moment one has been waiting for?

Time: Exactly! Learn this truth before I am no more, when instead of looking forward with delight you will only be able to look back with regret.

Me: Dear Time, walk with me and I will match my steps to yours.

It’s fascinating to see how certain topics can be interwoven through common themes, such as love, taxes and the beach.  At first glance, one would never put the three together. I certainly would not have, except for the fact that I lived through last week.

On Valentine’s Day I became officially (that’s another long story) engaged to the love of my life. With that significant event has come a flurry of thoughts revolving around guest lists, invitations, colors, a wedding dress, ticket prices and so much more. But those thoughts have not gripped my attention as much as the overwhelming power of love on my life. As I fall more in love each day with the man who surpasses anything I could have dreamed of, I am reminded of how much my Creator loves me. Not only did He design this amazing man to walk with me into forever, He sacrificed His life for me so that I could be personally reconciled with God. Without Christ’s sacrifice I would not have a forever to look forward to. The all-consuming power of LOVE that seems to have a will of its own.

One week later I did my taxes. The dread that comes with that five letter word. That all-too familiar sinking feeling in the pit of one’s stomach as you see how much you really earned in a year and how much you actually received…after Uncle Sam and the state grabbed what they wanted.  The echoes of empty promises and deceptive propaganda from campaign speeches sounding in one’s ears as the figures for a return simply don’t increase. And that helpless feeling when you realize you simply have to accept that taxes will always be and there is no choice but to pay them.  The depressing reality of TAXES that will always exist in one’s life.

Thanks to Zimba’s surplus of energy I have been going to the beach on a weekly basis. Swimming is the only activity that succeeds in exhausting him for at least three consecutive hours. As I gaze into the endless horizon, hear the steady roar of the ocean’s exultations, and see the waves glide up and down on the sand, I am in awe of how small I am. Love is greater than me; taxes are not controlled by me; the ocean could sweep me away.  In the grand scheme of things I am insignificant; in the grander scheme of things I matter to my Savior and this life was designed for me by Him for His glory. As I live well, ride the waves of human emotion, and dance to the rhythm of life, I can be swept away by the power and glory of the nature of God.

A lesson learned from love, taxes and the beach.

If there is any lesson I learned this week, it would be that my most valuable commodity is joy. How do I know? Because it is what the Enemy most targets in my life. The more joyful I am, the larger the target on my back. There is nothing that brings greater delight to Jesus or greater fury to the devil than a joyful heart, and much of its existence rests in our control.

This is probably one of the happiest times in my life – a full week with the knowledge that I am going to be married! And yet during this week I was downtrodden with fear and anxiety over pettiness. I puzzled and prayed over this and soon recognized a pattern. It is in the seasons of greatest joy when I struggle the most to be joyful; often the ones I love the most in the world are what Satan uses to cause me the greatest anxiety in order to rob me of peace and contentment.

It does make sense if viewed as a battle strategy. If Christ’s warriors are most effective when their hearts are filled with peace and overflow with rejoicing, wouldn’t our Enemy seek to render us ineffective by replacing our peace with anxiety and our rejoicing with despair?  Who enjoys conversing with a pessimist or fellowshipping with a worrier? Who would want to enter into a personal relationship with an impersonal God, or believe in a helpless Savior?

It is true. Our response in the face of difficulty reflects the strength of our faith in Jesus. This week I truly struggled, yet I did experience the constant presence of my loving Savior and when I allowed myself to rest in His arms He rescued my joy and renewed my peace. In His strength I began to count my blessings and reflect on His character. Once again I was overwhelmed by His goodness and faithfulness. If one was to measure every fear or doubt against the attributes of God, one would quickly recognize how inconsequential those fears and doubts truly are.

This week was a week of review. Yes, trials come. Some are simply annoying, like a pebble in one’s shoe. Others are severely painful, like loss of good health or the ending of a dear relationship.  Joy doesn’t mean we don’t experience trials; joy means we are recognizing Jesus in the midst of them.

“Yet those who wait on the LORD will gain new strength. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk on not grow faint, they will mount up with wings as eagles.” ~Isaiah 40:31

This has long been one of my favorite verses, especially when it is paired with Isaiah 42:2-3.  Waiting is not one of my specialities when it is not on my own terms.  I don’t mind being still for hours if I am lost in my own thoughts or heavy with my own concerns.  I can mull over them for hours and forget that time exists. But when there is something I want to accomplish, I want to act immediately.  Waiting in and of itself can be one of the most exhausting trials, or the most rewarding.

Perhaps one of the most excruciating lessons on waiting is when we are waiting on love. Love is certainly not something that can be forced and yet longing for it can consume one’s soul.  That was my story; love seemed to illude me as it found everyone else. I doubted, questioned, agonized, hoped, was crushed, became cynical, surrendered, and finally found contentment in what God was doing in my life.  This progression in the state of my heart lasted for a number of years.  I started my adult years anticipating love to quickly appear. When it did not, I hurt deeply. At one point I thought I had met the man who would love me unconditionally, only to have him break my heart and crush my dreams. The residue of that relationship turned into cynicism, then resignation, and finally surrender. But I didn’t want to simply surrender as a lifeless heart, I wanted to rejoice in life and live abundantly. 

And that is the key, my Waiting Friend.  Living abundantly where you are comes through waiting on Jesus.  As thoughts of Him consume our hearts and minds, versus thoughts of what we think we are waiting for, surrender turns into contentment and contentment transforms into strength.  We need Christ’s strength to live well, to rejoice in times of sorrow, to embrace those around you even if they are living your dreams.  Waiting on Jesus reveals His true nature to us; we see that He has a heart that empathizes with our human experience.  We discover that communion with Him satisfies. 

I am not a master of waiting.  Impatience does seek to conquer me on a consistent basis.  I am, however, much more cognizant of the beauty that comes from being content while waiting.  In fact, it is almost like having one’s cake and eating it too.  The LORD has great things in store for us, but He has also gifted us with the moment.  The best things are worth waiting for…I know that from experience for the Love I waited for has truly found me.

On several occasions I have written about the life and spiritual lessons that I have learned from my faithful dog, Mochi.  While I continue to enjoy and learn from her, there is another dog in the house who I would like to introduce to you.  World, meet Zimba.

On one particular September Saturday, a box of puppies was left at the vet clinic doorstep.  As I peered into the box, 3 pairs of pleading eyes gazed up at me. Their skin was stretched so tightly over their tiny bodies that I could count the ridges on their spine. They were lying in feces and vomit; their fragile bodies covered in sores from fleas and ticks feasting on them.  Two of the puppies were beyond help and we euthanized them later that day.  However, there was one little guy who was determined to live.

Due to Zimba’s small size and fragile state it was difficult to estimate his breed and future size, but we predicted he was a small terrier mix.  He seemed grateful to be alive, eager to please, and quick to learn.  Within a few days he learned how to sit and quickly understood that he needed to be quiet when he was in his kennel.  He didn’t drool and rarely barked. He quickly bonded to Mochi, though she was not thrilled with the idea. I wonder if she is now…

Four months and 50 pounds later Zimba is a long, lanky, headstrong lug.  He chews his way through life, running over whatever he can’t carry in his mouth.  He falls over when he lifts his leg to pee. Stepping onto the bed or onto the lap of someone sitting on the couch is something he accomplishes with ease and doesn’t think twice about barrelling into the leg of the unfortunate person in his path.  He walks through screen doors; sticks his entire head underwater to retrieve a rock; barks at reflections in the window; considers Mochi’s head the most comfortable seat in the house; and tackles the cats. But he never means to be intentionally naughty.

I have worked as a vet technician for 8.5 years. I interned with two large animal vets, handling horses and cattle. I raised a male golden retriever and a female pit bull. I have never encountered an entity quite like Zimba. My initial reaction would be to give up and get rid of him, but I believe that deep inside that clutzy, obstinate body is the heart of a very good dog.  I have learned that sometimes God gives His greatest gifts in packages that are the most difficult to unwrap.  Perhaps Zimba is Christmas and my birthday combined…for the next 10 years.

I was at a loss for what to write about this week – not because of the scarcity of thoughtss, but because of the sheer number of them. On Friday I asked my students to write their ideas for my blog on the board and the result was a board completely covered in clever blog topics. Many of them centered on describing how awesome they are or the different things we are studying in class. But several of them also expressed an interest in knowing how God is working in my life and that thought was the inspiration I needed.

Over the past 2 weeks I have seen God work in ways I could not even imagine or even begin to describe. While some choose not to believe in God because they can’t see Him, I do believe in Him but am always desiring Him to be more real in my life. It is this way for my students, as well. They desire to be close to God, but it is difficult for them to fully surrender to someone who is more illusory than tangible. I understand their struggle; it is one that I experience on a frequent basis and such a longing to see God propels me into an even deeper search for Him.

Last weekend I led another 40 Hours With Jesus retreat for my students and the heart of it was to help them see how real Jesus truly is.  My experiences at the camp, as well as my experiences during the week after it, were actually encounters with the reality of Christ. There is no doubt in my mind that He is stirring the hearts of my young students and carefully, but powerfully, unfolding His plan in my life and theirs. This is a time when He has chosen to affirm my identity in Him and to confirm that I am within His Will. His is an undeniable presence in my world that cannot be shaken.

In summary, my vision has been transformed. I see His fingerprints on every aspect of my life. Even in the difficult times I am peaceful for I know that they are allowed for my refinement and God’s greater glory. Each step I take is a step deeper into God’s plan for who I am and why I exist. Living has meaning because Jesus is for real.