Saturday, July 7, 2012

"Chumbawumba...soundtrack for my LIFE!!"

I hate to water my yard.  It makes the grass grow, which means I have to mow more frequently.  It wastes a valuable natural resource and costs money.  But it seems that in Texas it is a necessary evil.  I have a known foundation issue that I need to repair, but I noticed some new cracks in the wall and I have to admit that not watering seems to be making the problem worse.  So this morning I gave in.

As I was dumping water into the ground, I saw the other sprinklers up and down the street and a little voice inside accused me, "You've become just like them."

If you know me at all, you no doubt can anticipate the revulsion that statement brought to my soul.  The artist in me screams, "'ME' is not like 'THEM' at all.  I will never be 'WE' with them."  But the disgusting voice of the Pharisee also calmly intones the same message.  Am I an individual, unique and special?  Do I need to go to great lengths to visibly demonstrate that it is so?

Why am I so self-righteous, when I'm the "chief of sinners"?  If one of my favorite quotes is true ("Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.") then why don't I care about those who are suffering and those who are lost?

I fear that I know the answer, but I don't like to articulate it: the divorce wrecked my world.  Here I am not referring to the emotional loss or the pain I once felt.  That ground has been amply walked, and the well worn paths are becoming a parking lot, flat and calm with little room for new growths of weeds that bring sharp, stinging pain.  No, I'm referring to the change in my relationship with God.  I met with a pastor from our church last week, and he mentioned that after divorce, many people need to relearn that God is good, that he is trustworthy.  I had never put words to that thought before, but I instantly recognized it as true.  I did the studies during the separation: Malachi tells us that God hates divorce.  It stands to reason then, that God's will would be for a marriage to endure.  Psalm 37 tells us to delight in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.  Therefore, if God hates divorce, and if I'm yielding to him and praying in line with his will, he should answer that prayer, correct?  Experience did not prove that for me.  I prayed earnestly that my marriage would be restored, but God did not answer that prayer.


So where do I go from here?  I have been asking myself that for some time now.  My friend Josh and I were lamenting the other day and both agreed that the biggest fault of Christian music is its stubborn refusal to engage with real life.  Where are the songs of grief and anger and loss?  One reason I love Rich Mullins is because all of his music is intensely honest.  At a concert he once said, "I don't know why God is like that.  Sometimes it makes me mad.  But it don't do to fight with God because he always wins.  He bloodies your nose and then gives you a ride home on his bicycle."

I've been angry with God.  I've been stubborn.  I have lived out that old sermon illustration, where the saint says to Jesus, "If this is how you treat your friends it is no wonder you have so few."  I've tried to pick up my ball and go home, tired of playing the game that is faith in Christ...but after I take several steps I realize that it is a tetherball, and I'm still anchored to the pole.  He has me in his hands and he will not let go.  I guess I will slowly try to give up my demand to have it my way (I want to write a poem called--with apologies to Christina Aguilera--"Geenie in the Bible") and remember that God is faithful and true, he is trustworthy, he is good.


Friday, July 6, 2012

For Eric, Wherever I May Find Him

When my brother left for Amsterdam, I gave him a CD entitled, "Going Dutch."  I've been keeping up with him via his blog for all these years, and as he is moving back to the United States there have been times of anticipation and times of sadness for what will be left behind.  What, then, would be a fitting playlist for someone who is "going home" and "leaving home" at the same time?  I've really been into word-related playlists recently, so the themes of "home" and "America" will feature prominently, but I also want to somehow capture the sense of leaving something behind...something you've grown to love.

So Eric, I hope you get this before you get back Stateside.  I hope it helps in the closure/grieving/new beginnings process.

Sara Groves--"Going Home"

Sara Groves--"Painting Pictures of Egypt"
(Though this song speaks more to maturing in faith and the temptation of sin, it also speaks of the paradox of wanting to go/wanting to stay.)


Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes--"Home"
(Just a great video, and an awesome song.  Like the next video, it is a good reminder that home is less where you are, and more who is there with you.)


Billy Joel--"You're My Home"

Foo Fighters--"Next Year"
(This song will be forever linked in my mind to the opening credits of the NBC sitcom, "Ed", in which a big-city boy returns home to his small-town Ohio roots.  Very apropos if you asked me.)


Simon and Garfunkel--"Homeward Bound"

The Muppets--"Saying Goodbye"
(Because, "Peoples is peoples"...and saying goodbye is never easy.)


The Muppets--"I'm Going to Go Back There Someday"
(I absolutely love this song.  For some reason, it has always spoken to me of heaven, a place that I seem to know in my heart, but have never been...and yet somehow long to return to.  But the former places in our lives, if they are God-ordained, are always places to which we can return.)


The Avett Brothers--"The Weight of Lies"
(Of all the many things for which I envy and admire my brother, it is his sound, Spirit-led decision-making that I long for the most.  Although I feel I've had to flee several places in my life, and therefore this song speaks harshly to me, I hope it will be a confirmation of the decision made, since he is "(running) to something and not away from because lies don't need an aeroplane to chase you anywhere.")


Neil Diamond--"America"
(Ha! Neil Diamond...)


Simon and Garfunkel--"America"
(This was a great opening for the angst-filled Cameron Crowe film, 'Almost Famous', when the daughter hands 'Bookends' to her mom and says, "Listen to this and you'll understand why I'm leaving."  I think it is the perfect conclusion to the playlist because it speaks of traveling and trying to find America, while at the same time feeling like you're looking for yourself or something you lost.  "'Kathy I'm lost' I said, though I knew she was sleeping. 'I'm empty and aching and I don't know why' may be one of my favorite lines in lyrical history.)


I wanted to do this long ago and give you time to listen to it before you left (sorry!), but I hope you enjoy it, brother, and I'm excited to have you back (relatively) close.  I love you!

Sunday, June 24, 2012

There's No Place Like Home


It's been a busy summer so far, and from the looks of things it won't be slowing down any time soon.  With just under a week to go in the month of June, he's a little recap of how we spent our summer.  


Culmination of the Vanilla Ice Hairstyle


I started the month attending a concert in Austin with my ol' buddy Josh.  We saw The Head and the Heart at Stubb's BBQ.  It was a fun weekend and a good show.  If I could have changed two things about the concert, it would have been inside (not out in the 95 degree heat) and there would have been chairs. 

The Head and the Heart singing "Rivers and Roads"

As soon as I returned from Austin my elderly neighbors had arranged for me to replace the section of fence between our houses.  Another neighbor, Jon (pictured below) led the project, which went quite smoothly.  
Aydan and Brennan, Fence Repairmen 

Since I was already making improvements to the house, I worked for several days to refinish the antique piano that has been in the garage for years, and I set about redoing several rooms in the house.

 Video Games in Brennan's Room

In Brennan's room I made a set-up more conducive to playing video games and watching movies together as a family (Every Sunday night I have the boys we enjoy "Popcorn and Cereal Night".  Tonight we watched a Don Knots classic, "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken.").  I built a loft (okay...more like assembled), helped a buddy clear his garage of unwanted furniture (thanks for the couch Mike!), added a shelf for the projector and added a screen to the opposite wall.  It's pretty sweet.  

 Former Superhero Mural

The boys once shared a room and I spent a considerable amount of time decorating it with a mural of superheroes.  Aydan has been asking to change the room that is now his own and make it more of a sports theme.  Rather than lament the work and beauty that would be lost I gladly complied to the wishes of my rapidly growing son.  

Aydan's New Paint Job

He picked out a nice color of blue and I just completed painting the walls this weekend.  There are still some details to be added so it won't look so boring, but I couldn't get them done last week.  

 Milestone Church, Father's Day

For Father's Day the boys bought me a butterfly to add to our growing collection (it is the Rajah Brooke's Wing in the top right-hand corner below).  They are too sweet, and they are only too eager to show off the now proudly displayed collection when visitors come.  Brennan, especially, likes to demonstrate his knowledge of the names of all the species we have.  

 Restored Piano and Butterfly Collection

I still need to return the front panels to the piano, but I left them off for the piano tuner I had scheduled to come.  Unfortunately, there are problems with the piano that prevent it from being tuned, but at least it's a nice showpiece.  

 Reading Nook

Finally, I decided to redo my bedroom.  I returned to a decorating scheme from our days in the apartment in Lewisville.  I brought the bookshelves (displaced by the piano) into my bedroom and made the room more of a library/reading area.  I love it.  Again, I still have some finishing touches, but I like all the shelves and the cozy feel.  

 Place of Rest, Place of Knowledge

And there you have it!  As June comes to a close, I am transitioning from house projects that needed to be done to art projects that I have really wanted to get done.  I suppose when August rolls around I will once again return to school work that needs to be finished before the year starts.  My how the summer speeds by.  

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

If You Can't Take the Heat...

It's 85 degrees today.

In my house.

Thank goodness it was somewhat overcast today and the outside temperature didn't go soaring near the hundreds.  I am sweating away today because of a minor drainage issue with my air conditioner.  This repair could have been made hours ago, had it not been for the "help" of my sons.  The first time I came back from Home Depot I realized that Brennan had left the PVC pipe in parking lot.  After making a trip to buy another one (unfortunately we couldn't find the one he left) I returned home only to discover that Aydan handed me an incorrect type of the elbow joint that I needed.  So I'm off to Home Depot once again.

Homeowners, mark ye well the wise words of my friend Craig, spoken o those long years ago: repair projects will take twice as long and cost twice as much as you first expect.  It is even more true when you allow children to lend a hand.

But I don't want to dwell too much on the negative.  We have been working hard on the house recently.  I've had many projects that I'm trying to get out of the way so I can start painting.  I hope to have them done by the end of the week, at which point I will post pictures for everyone to enjoy.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Choose Your Own Adventure


“You know I ran across an old box of letters while I was bagging up some clothes for Goodwill”
So begins the song “Thankful” by Caedmon’s Call.  While the song speaks about realizing that past sins often persist into the present, my realization this morning was somewhat different: never in my past could I have predicted my present. 
            Recently I’ve been rearranging the rooms in my house with one of the biggest projects being a move of my bookshelves.  In the process, I’ve looked through books and evaluated which should be on the shelf, which should be in a box, and which should be taken to Half Price Books.  To be thorough, I’ve even brought books from the studio and the attic into play.  While in the attic I discovered a box full of youth ministry books.  Now I don’t think I’ve ever consciously stated it, but I think I’ve kept them for all these years with the dim hope that one day I might somehow return to full-time ministry.  Similarly, although I don’t articulate it, I feel that—aside from whether or not I would want to return—I am no longer qualified to be a pastor, and therefore that option is closed for me.  But these conflicting ideas met forcefully this morning as I contemplated either donating the books to a pastor who could use them or simply selling them for whatever I could get. 
            I didn’t expect to become sad when weighing these options, but I did.  I felt a sadness that I couldn’t go back and an uncertainty when it comes to what is ahead.  If I thought fifteen years ago that I would always be a pastor, and I think now that I will simply work as a teacher until I retire…how wrong might that thought be?  My recent divorce factors in mightily as well: what will the future hold, relationally?
            There is a scene near the end of “That Thing You Do” in which Lenny says to Guy “Skitch” Patterson, “Hey Skitch—how did we get here?”  That quote comes into my mind a lot these days.  How did I get here?  I’ve often thought of life as a book with God as the author, outside the constraints of the story, perfectly orchestrating the events and leading me to a harmonious ending through a fairly stable, linear timeline.  Pampered and selfish as that may sound, I must confess that I always thought that I would be in ministry, be married, raise kids, grow old and die.  Nice and simple.  But now my life feels like a “Choose Your Own Adventure” story, like the ones I loved to read when I was a child.  The best part of the story for me was that if you made a choice that led to, say, falling off the top of the Statue of Liberty, well you just flip back to where you made the errant decision, choose a different course, and proceed to a happier ending.  But as Andrew Osenga says, “This is  not a ball game, it’s not a school play, it’s not a book that lets you bend the page.  This is the one life, these are the passing days.  I don’t want to look back and see I’ve wasted.”  How did I get here?  Answer: the choices I’ve made.  Where do I go from here?  Answer: anywhere but back.  I don’t get a “do-over.”  I can’t unchoose what was chosen.  I don’t get to escape the pain and uncertainty by reading an alternate course.  In some ways that’s okay.  The Avett Brothers sing, “But I can’t go back, and I don’t want to, ‘cause all my mistakes brought me to you.”  I’m pretty pleased with my life now: I love teaching and having the summers off, I love the people in my life, I’m happy to (occasionally) pursue the dream of being a painter.  But the Avett Brother’s also sing, “The weight of lies will bring you down and follow you to every town ‘cause nothing happens here that doesn’t happen there.  So when you run make sure you run to something and not away from ‘cause lies don’t need an aeroplane to chase you anywhere.”  And it is with regret that I must recall that I left the ministry…and began my marriage...with ignoble circumstances.  I’ve run from some of my bad decisions.  I’ve hoped that going to a better place might make me a better man, but the recovery movement is correct: “Wherever you go, there you are.” 
            The greatest sadness is not a result of any vocation or relationship I have lost.  “There are dreams that cannot be, and there are storms we cannot weather.”  The only days I really want to return to are those in which I felt close to Jesus.  As a teenager in the Berean youth group I was passionately on fire to do anything Jesus would have me do.  I was devoted to serving him as a youth pastor.  Even in the early days of teaching my heart still felt that, even though I wasn’t vocationally a minister, my whole goal was to serve Jesus and impact lives for him.  After this past year I just don’t know.  I feel dead.  He feels far (from my movement, not His).  And if I could change anything, all I would ask is to go back to the days when I loved Him well and knew He loved me.  

Friday, June 1, 2012

I Almost Forgot...

In my previous post, I mentioned social media.  I had intended to include this strange new ether-territory in that writing, "yet knowing how ways leads to way" I did not make it back.  


Obviously, since you are reading this, I chose to start blogging.  Much like my refusal to increasingly new video game systems shortly after my newly acquired Atari was trumped by the release of the Nintendo, I have consciously chosen not to partake in the advance of social media.  When MySpace came (and went), I did not get involved.  Facebook and Twitter have emerged as the big players these days, and I sit and watch and wonder.  


Is social media good?  It seems great for keeping up with what is going on in the lives of the people you love.  You may not be able to maintain a daily relationship with a friend from high school, but it's still nice to see what he is up to via Facebook.  At first I thought Twitter was inane and that there could be no practical use for 140 characters of information from everyday people.  The book A Twitter Year: 365 Days in 140 Characters  glorifies the first-hand news capability of Twitter and talks about the wit, entertainment, and the connectedness that tweeting (and reading tweets) can bring.  So I must acknowledge that social media is good.  


But I see it used for such nefarious purposes, that it makes me wonder if the good outweighs the bad.  


Working in a high school I have heard countless stories from students about "Facebook fights" and wars that good back and worth in the virtual realm.  Often these spill over into real fights in the halls.  Cyber-bulling has become a concern for educators and parents alike.  Every positive post on a wall is somewhere matched with a hateful slur.  


And while the events of the Arab Spring were largely told through Twitter, oftentimes the "troop mobilization" power of Twitter doesn't support an uprising against oppression but instead promotes teenage misbehavior (click the link to see the media/community reaction to the "pranks" mentioned in my previous post).  


I'm not sure what to conclude about social media.  I guess it could be likened to sex or alcohol consumption.  What can be a positive is often misused and brings pain to many lives; and what is fitting and beneficial for adults is too much and turns out to be destructive in the hands of children.  


.   .   .


On a separate note, I just watched the news clip I linked to for this post, and I start to have more compassion for the families and friends involved with those who participated in the food fight.  I see their position that the students have "worked for twelve years" and should be allowed this special moment in their lives.  I understand that it's a big deal and graduation is an important milestone.  I get that it must be hard to miss out.  
But I can't get past the fact that for every "good kid who's never been in trouble" that was caught in this incident there were LITERALLY HUNDREDS of legitimate, good kids who were not involved in the slightest.  Where in the real world does that logic exist?  "She was a faithful wife...until she cheated.  There shouldn't be a severe consequence."  "He was a wonderful employee...until he stole from the company.  Just put him on a growth plan."  "He was a great President...until Watergate. But let's not worry about impeaching him."  No, often the one time you mess up is the one thing you'll be remembered for.  Believe me, I've learned that lesson in my own adult life.  If only I'd learned it better when I was a kid.   
Perhaps the saddest thing in all of this is still the essence of what I wrote about before: it wouldn't be an issue if the kid wasn't involved, and it shouldn't be an issue if the parent had an honest assessment of their child (i.e., don't be duped into thinking that your kid is some saint) and was more concerned about them learning from their mistakes than sheltering them from the fall-out of poor decisions.  It just ends up being a sad situation for everyone involved.  

Parents, Let Us Not Be the Problem

"If Aydan did something like this, what would you do?"
"I would encourage the administration to not let him graduate at all.  I'm not talking about, 'Don't let him walk at graduation.'  Let him go back and try high school for one more year and see if he can get it right that time."

I had this conversation this morning.  As far as I can tell it reflects my honest opinion.  It is based on Fay and Cline's, "Parenting with Love and Logic."  For example, when Aydan did not meet one (albeit minor) requirement for promotion from third grade, his teacher wanted to pass him to fourth grade, and I refused unless there was some type of summer school.  I was even ready to have him repeat the grade.  Not because he's a bad kid or because he's a dumb kid, but because I want him to be the best kid he can possibly be.  The line in "Love and Logic" for a kid who isn't reaching his academic potential is, "Don't worry....they offer the third grade every year at this school.  I'm sure you'll do better next year."  The goal is for the natural consequence to do the teaching.

Have you heard of Dharun Ravi?  He's the Rutger's student who spied on his roommate, Tyler Clementi, and posted it to social media.  Clementi later killed himself.  While I will return to the theme of social media later, I am most concerned about the response of Ravi's mother.  I heard a recording on NPR of comments made at the sentencing.  Ravi's mother pleaded for her son to receive no additional jail time or probation, stating that, "he has already suffered enough."  He.  Suffered.  The one whose actions could have been a major factor in another human being taking his own life.  Suffered?  A media whirlwind?  Hmmmm.....

Students at three of the four Keller high schools staged "pranks" last week.  Central High School's "prank" was a food fight.  Nine students (I am quoting a statistic shouted at me by an angry mother earlier today...but more on that later) were told they would not be allowed to attend the graduation ceremony as a consequence for their actions.  To provide further background, one of those students will not be graduating as a direct result of my involvement in the situation.  I came to the food fight late, because I had a class, but when I arrived I saw one of the ring-leaders throw a water bottle.  I wrote a statement about his involvement on Wednesday morning (four full days after the incident) and had a conference with him, his parents and the principle on that same morning.  Now, with less than 17 hours until graduation, the family is attempting to file an injunction that would allow him to walk at graduation.  Apparently there are also "Let Them Walk" groups being formed not only on Facebook, but in the community.

Which brings us to the present moment.  I was told this morning that I might have to go to court today, should a judge be able to hear the injunction in time, to give my statement again.  On the way home from school, I saw a student posting a "Let Them Walk" sign which I promptly tore down.  I did this partly because I disagree with the sentiment, and partly on the belief that one cannot post a sign without a city permit and so had I chosen to contact the city instead they would have come and done it for me. [Sidebar: after inquiring into the matter, the city does not code on Friday, Saturday and Sunday, which is why garage sale signs are allowed.  Since I was in error, I hereby apologize to the offended parties and offer my regrets.]  When I pulled back into the school to inform them what was going on the (get this) mother who was driving her son around to post the signs confronted me as to why I took it down.  She proceeded to yell at me about how unjust it was that these nine students were being "singled out" and how unfair it was that they would not be able to attend this milestone in their life.  At one point she mentioned that any OTHER consequence would be fine (including, in her words, "a citation with a fine of $500") but the consequence imposed was unfair (citing the fact that none of the other schools kept any seniors from participating in graduation).  I tried to express, as kindly and calmly as I could, that perhaps her defense of these students who had obviously done something wrong might be sending the wrong message to her son.  She violently disagreed, but mostly on the grounds that the consequence itself was wrong, not that a consequence was being given.  In her mind, she was trying to get the attention of the administration and have them change their minds before 4 pm.

As she drove off she called me names.  Students on Twitter have mentioned me by name, saying that I am lying about their friend.  I am currently feeling the weight of being intensely disliked by a large group of people.  It's not fun.  But the purpose of this post is not to lash back at those individuals, but rather to give me space to go through what I am thinking and feeling.  So let me begin.

I have been called a liar.  My telling of the incident goes like this: I was standing in the center of the walkway leading to the stairs.  I saw the student throw a water bottle from the midst of a group of students.  I confronted the student, asking him, "Did you throw that?"  There were several rows of students standing between us so that I couldn't get to him.  He shook his head and walked away quickly.  In our conference, the student claimed his friend was holding his bag for him and that's why he was at the scene, but he claims he never threw anything.  

The mother that accosted me held this student up as a victim; a martyr.  She was angry that the family was only given three days notice.  A student on Twitter called me names and claimed I was a liar.  I would love to be able to question these people.  If he was innocent, why not simply state who did throw the water bottle?  If I am wrong and he is right, he could quickly exonerate himself (but that, of course, would violate that sacred teenage code to not "rat out" ones peers).  If he was not throwing anything, why did he have need for a friend to hold his backpack?  If you believe he is innocent and a martyr, have you read his tweets on Twitter?  He sounds like the organizer of the event and boasts of its "success."  Why is it so unjust to deliver a consequence with such short notice?  The event itself only took place a week ago.  Students did not give the administration time to plan for the event or its aftermath.  Here I will insert that I have already apologized to the student's parents for my delay in filing the report.  Friday was a crazy and stressful day following the event.  Following that stressful day was the chance to relax during Memorial Day Weekend (a chance I gladly took advantage of).  Having not thought about the incident or the students involved during that weekend I did not remember to mention it until I was prompted to do so by and administrator's email sent on Tuesday.  The saddest part of all of this, as mentioned by the friend, is that the student is now held up as an example of a great kid being unfairly treated.  I do not want to attack the child's character, but for every student that has criticized me for implicating him, I have had a student who disagrees with what he did.  For every parent who has been angry with me I have had three teachers, administrators or parents commend me.

And now, the heart of the matter.  The student's parents are obviously supportive of their son.  That is as it should be.  But it is wrong for a parent, myself included, to take up for their child when they are obviously at fault.   Members of the community are up in arms that the consequence is unfair but they are missing the point that the consequence is deserved.  If I break the speed limit and the officer issues a citation that will cost me more than I think it should it is ludicrous for me to yell at him for being mean--it is my fault for speeding.  I wish that parents would stop looking at the sentimentality of the occasion and start looking at the reality of the situation: kids did something wrong; kids were held accountable for it.  It does not matter if a person does not like the result.  The only way to avoid it was to not be at fault.  I really feel that even if I disagreed with the consequence I would pray that it be severe enough to make my sons question doing wrong again in the future.

You can point to any number of reasons why schools have a hard time training children to be intelligent, responsible, upright members of society, but in my experience it almost always comes back to how a parent treats his child.  Parents get angry at teachers for giving a failing grade on a student's lost project instead of being angry at the child for being irresponsible or unprepared.  Parents want their kids disciplined, but in the way they see fit.  The fact that this consequence is upsetting parents may be an indication that it was the right one to deliver.

My great fear after the events of these days is retaliation.  I can just see one of these angry parents attempting to have me fired, or making it their mission to make my life miserable.  It is a regrettable situation I find myself in.