Reminder of what matters

This is my second post and it is nearly November. Initially, when I came to Washington, I thought I would write a lot. I still hope to do more, but it didn't work out like I thought it might. I suppose that could be said of quite a few things. Have you ever found yourself asking the question of God, "Why is it like this?" I know that there are people that have done so. I've seen them and talked to them. A woman whose husband died of cancer; parents whose child has turned away from what he or she has been taught; a dejected couple whose nursery remains empty; all of them ask the same question; "Why is it like this?" There is a companion question that rides shotgun with this "why" question. It is, "How come others have it better/smoother/easier than I do?" These two questions, I think, are common and trouble a lot of people.

I think Elijah must have felt that way as he sat under the broom tree. I think David must've felt like that as he fled from Saul. I believe Daniel might have entertained this thought on his way to the lions' den. Surely Joseph pondered these questions as he sat, year after year, in prison. These are Bible stories that we know and learn as children in Sunday School and, yet, they are real people. These folks found themselves in difficult situations and it appeared, perhaps to them, that God was going to let it go. Why? Why did they have it so tough? Why did others seem to get by without as much struggle?

Why does God act as he does? Why do some have it more difficult than others? Why are some more gifted than others? Why do some get opportunites or chances that others don't get? I've thought about these questions over the last few days. I don't know that I have any "real" answers (I hear what you're thinking. Why write about it then!!). I do, though, want to share a story that, as I thought about these nagging questions, kept coming back to me. You see, I think when we entertain these questions, we are are allowing ourselves to ask the question that Kevin Costner asked of James Earl Jones in the movie "Field of Dreams." We are asking God, "What's in it for me?" How come I don't have the chances that he does? Why does she seem to get all the breaks? Why can't I be more like so and so? It all comes down to us challenging God, "What's in it for me?" Let me share my story.

I'll call him Mitchell. I am currently the building sub at Union Middle School. Right now I am in a Reading/English class on a maternity leave assignment. I will do this until after Christmas. Before that, though, I just filled in wherever needed. One day, in September, I was asked to go the building next door to our school and work in the "Special Ed" building. That's where I met Mitchell. Mitchell is ten years old and is autistic. He has other issues and problems that I do not know of. I know this, though, Mitchell cannot speak, not what we consider speaking anyway. He is unable to communicate with words. He does know a few cuss words which he picked up from some of the males in his life. He can mimic them, but that's it. I was told to spend eight hours with Mitchell. I think, though I was never told, that I was an experiment. They wanted to see how Mitchell would do with a male teacher. I know that I kept track of the number of cuss words he said in the day and it was less than normal. I know that we got some work done. I watched Mitchell that day. He played with blocks and beads. He would communicate with me by touching or pulling on my arm. I thought about Mitchell. I thought how difficult it had to be to have thoughts in your mind that you could not express. I thought how challenging it would be to not be able to say or communicate or even connect with the world around you. I didn't do it at school, but that night I prayed for Mitchell.

Why am I sharing this story? It doesn't answer the questions that I posed earlier, but it does give me perspective. I don't always understand why things are as they are or why others maybe have it a bit better. It does remind me, though, that there are plenty who have it tougher. Next September I will likely be in another place, sharing the gospel of Christ. Mitchell will likely be in that little room on the second floor. I was supposed to be his teacher that day, but he taught me something, too. I am truly grateful for what I have and the opportunities that I've been given. I won't take them for granted and I will trust that God will provide them as he sees fit. I will live in the day that I've been given and know that what God allows will be okay. Others might be more gifted or speak in large churches but that's all right. I have enough that I can serve him.

Maybe you've wondered why you don't have as much as someone else. Maybe it has been tough and you've questioned God. If so, then I hope you meet someone like Mitchell. Let him or her remind you of what really matters and how we should be content to use what we have been given for his glory.

On Tuesday of this week, when I was coming downstairs from the cafeteria, Mitchell and his class were coming up the stairs. The crew from the other building had taken the kids for a walk. I saw him and said "hi." He made a noise and tapped my milk carton. I'd like to think he remembers. I know I do. Maybe he only reconginzed the carton. Maybe it was just a tap, but maybe it was a bit more. I hope so...

Post 1 Choices

I am excited to begin this blog. I am currently on an "open-ended" Sabbatical in Washington, Missouri. I have been here since the middle of August and continue to seek what the Lord may have for me. Today I wanted to begin with a thought or two about choices.

This morning, before church, I caught the end of the movie "The Family Man." If you haven't seen it, it is a bit like an inverse "It's A Wonderful Life." The main character, Nicholas Cage, is a wealthy Wall Street type who has chosen career and status over love. On Christmas Eve he gets the chance to see what his life would have been like if he had made a different choice.

When I came home from church, while grading essays and waiting for the Chiefs' game to begin, I caught the end of the movie "Juno." It, too, is a movie about choices. Juno and her boyfriend choose to allow the baby to live. The woman's husband chooses to leave and she chooses the baby. It is all about choice.

As I thought about these movies, I thought about the choices we make. Joshua, at the end of the book of Joshua, makes it clear to the people. He tells them, "But if serving the Lord seems undesirabale to you, then choose for yourselves this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your forefathers served beyond the River, or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living. But as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord" (Joshua 24:14).

We all have choices to make. I have made many choices, both good and bad. I chose to leave Kansas City and move to Missouri. I chose to leave behind comfort and security. I chose to leave teaching and enter ministry years ago. I have chosen, over the years, to begin and end relationships. The life I now have is a result of the choices I have made. I suppose it is honest to say that I wish I could go back and "re-do" some of those decisions. There are some things I think I would choose to do differently. That possibility, though, exists only in the movies. We can only press ahead. The goal, I think, is to make the choices that God wants us to make. There's the Sunday School answer, huh? But it is true. It is just hard. I would like to think that all of my choices reflect his will. Sadly, though, many times I will seek to cloak my choices in religious garb and act like they were heaven-sent. After all, how can anyone argue with me when I tell them, "this is God's will for my life?" One who is truly seeking the Lord, I think, comes to him humbly and with an open heart and mind. I see God's will for my life more clearly in the template of sharing his plan for me with others and getting their input. That helps sort out what is from Him and what is from me.

I will continue to trust him and will make some choices very soon. I hope the choices I make are his leading and not my own.