Why Criminals Are At a Disadvantage in the Winter

A kindergartener came running up to me at recess on Tuesday. "Ms. Djerf, Ms. Djerf, guess what! I go to Manhandle Class!"

This was a new one. "You do, Cory? What's that?"

The question he was hoping for, of course. "It's where we learn how to handle...I mean, man-handle bad people, like robbers and killers!"

"Oh. Wow." That was all I could muster.

"And in the winter," he continued, "we can do something special. We grab their hoods and choke them!" This was accompanied by vivid gestures which assured me that man-handle class involved hands-on practice.

I'm hoping we can keep the manhandling down out at recess (I think we're OK; although we have mutant gerbils and invisible zombies, we don't have any robbers or killers that I know of), but this I know: if I ever need just one kindergartener to walk with me through dark alleys, this guy will be my pick.

My Invisible Zombie Can Beat Up Your Invisible Zombie

I love recess duty.

Today, I observed a small group as they ran screaming from snowbank to snowbank, being pursued by an invisible zombie.  A particularly imaginative kindergartener dictated the storyline of the game, demonstrating what zombies sound and act like, and then throwing the rest into a panic with sudden shouts: "There he is!!"

The rest of the group obediently took off in delighted terror each time. "AAAhhhhhhh!!!!!"

One smaller boy played along for a little while, and then boldly decided that HE could sense the approach of the zombie, too. Before this, they had punctuated their endless escape by throwing themselves, panting, onto snowbanks (safety tip for future reference: invisible zombies can't catch OR bite you when you're on a pile of snow). But now, these time-outs grew shorter and shorter as the two competed to be the first one to yell, "There he is!" and hurtle headlong in the opposite direction.

The next time they paused near me, I overheard this same student take his bid for power one step further, as he attempted to explain to his comrades that "some zombies are actually good, and this one IS good, because he's in a cage..."

That's all the further he got, however. (When your enemy is invisible, and you're not the only person controlling its appearance, stopping to hypothesize about it is fruitless.)  Because the next second, someone else screamed, "There he is!"

And they were off.

When We Grow Up

"It is easy to decide what to be when you grow up: agree or disagree."

Once we could successfully discern the difference between agreeing and disagreeing, we had a lively discussion in first and second grade today around this topic.  Students placed their names on one side or the other, and then gave reasons for their choice.

Most of the class agreed that there are SO MANY interesting jobs that you could have, that it's very difficult to decide. However, three were remarkably decisive:

"I used to think it was hard, but now I think it's easy. Because when I was two years old, I didn't know what I wanted to be, but then when I was three years old, I heard about planes and jets and that you could fly them in the Air Force, and then I knew that I'm going to be in the Air Force. So then it was easy."  -- This from an ancient eight year old.

"Well, I think it's easy because I have a brother who does all these things that I can't do yet because I'm not old enough, but I just watch him, and I like everything he does, and then I can see what I want to do when I'm older, like guns and soccer. And they happen on different nights, so I'm pretty sure that I'll be able to do all of them."  -- I wonder if that exemplary eighth grader knows how much influence he exerts over his second grade brother.  I'm tempted to tell him.

"I think that you just have to find something that you really like to do and you're good at it, and then you just think of jobs that are perfect for that. Like, I'm good at singing, so I'm going to be a rock star."  -- I have a feeling that this child gets her daily dose of the Disney Channel. 

This made me think of my all-time favorite story from my roommate's third-grade class. Another time, another post...

Bloggish Introspection

My blog is having an identity crisis.

 

[Argh. Something about late nights brings out the thoughtful in me. I can sit down in the middle of the afternoon to write, and barely struggle through a handful of ideas before I fall asleep, but here it is, nearing midnight after a LONG week, and now I want to dump my mental drawers and sort them out...]  

 

When I started this blog, I deliberately chose not to pigeonhole it. I knew how well I categorize my visible, public life and perform for each category as expected, and I felt that I needed one place where all the crazy pieces of who I am were united, at least to the same degree that they are united within my fractured mind. 

 

A nice idea in theory; a silly one in practice.  I'm not sure what made me think I would turn into a different (less self-edited) person on a blog. I don't dump all of my laundry here; only the parts I'm willing to hang on a public clothesline. The pieces that look the best.

 

I have some ideas of what I don't want it to be.  I don't want this to just be a school blog of cute kid stories. I try to steer clear of the rambling journal-entry posts I'm prone toward. (This post is riding that slippery slope, but hey, it's late. My judgment ebbs when I'm low on sleep.) I don't want it to be too heavy, or too light. I want it to be fun and thought-provoking.  I want it to turn my readers toward God, but I also harbor a nature which wants, desperately so, to look good. 

I'm not a huge fan of dirty laundry blogs -and don't anticipate this one joining the ranks- but I'm wondering about my honesty and my purpose in writing.  One of the themes God has placed before me for 2011 is that it is to be a year of turning from seeking my own glory to declaring His glory. 

 

I don't know what this will mean for my writing here, but I'm asking God for two things: first, for the changes within my heart to love His glory more than my own; and second, for opportunities to give Him glory in whatever ways He wants.  Next January, I hope to be able to write a testimonial of my faithful, loving, full-of-surprises Father and His actions all around me in 2011!

Catching On

"Miss Djerf, I know Mr. Popper is the main character in this story!!!" And then Jeffrey went on to explain why he knew this to be true.

 

That one comment (blurted in the middle of our read-aloud) was a bit of sunshine I'm poking away in my pocket, where I can stick my hand in from time to time and soak up the warmth.  Turns out Jeffrey, who appeared to be communing with distant galaxies during this week's reading lessons, knows what a character is AND how to find the "main-est" one!

 

It's not much, but it's a pretty happy something as far as I'm concerned.

Misplaced Creativity

My heart pounded, my mind raced, my fingers hovered above my keyboard. And my memory was...empty.  The cursor blinked impatiently in the "Password" box, taunting me. All I could remember was that I'd been pleased with the creativity of my password on the day I created it.

 

Which is the problem. My creativity, that is. It loves to show up when new passwords must be entered. I think it's the revenge it exacts after having sat mute while I filled in the requisite membership information on whatever new website I joined.  I'm enough of a rule-follower that I stick with true answers to things like name and address. Practicality demands simple usernames, too. But I get to the password box, and the world is my oyster -- or so my creativity thinks. 

 

Ah, it suggests. I have a perfect, obscure combination of movie lines or painting titles or animal words written backwards, all relating to this website in a bizarre way, that will be hack-proof and even a bit snarky. It will bring a secret smile to your face every time you type it in.

 

My mind agrees: of course!  Who doesn't want a password which pins an invisible badge of coolness on you at each use?

 

The only problem with an invisible badge is that once you drop it, it's difficult to recover...

 

Thus, my mental fumbling around once again tonight. That happy memory of feeling clever -- well, it turned out to have no relation to the memory of the actual password.  Guess I'll have to move on, abandoning the old one in favor of one I can actually remember.

 

Take that, creativity.

Holy, Happy Words

"And then he said a bunch of holy, happy words!"

This was Grayson's summary of what Zechariah did "when he could finally talk again" (following the birth of John). We review the Christmas story every December in my class -so I know the story inside and out- but this little catchphrase snagged my mind. He was right; Zechariah's words bubble over with joy, yet they are immensely sacred.

This is the beginning of his prophecy:
"Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,
For He has visited us and accomplished redemption for His people,
And has raised up a horn of salvation for us
In the house of David His servant--" (vv. 68-69)

And here are his prophetic words over his newborn son:
"And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Most High;
For you will go on before the Lord to prepare His ways;
To give to His people the knowledge of salvation
By the forgiveness of their sins,
Because of the tender mercy of our God,
With which the Sunrise from on high will visit us,
To shine upon those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,
To guide our feet into the way of peace." (vv.76-79)

A few thought-bursts of my own on these holy, happy words:

• I love how God works on the macro and the micro levels at the same time. He's bringing about salvation for the world, yet He knew the deepest heart-cries of Zechariah and Elizabeth for a child. I've seen it in my life on a smaller scale, the way that God brings things together which answer many different prayers in one situation.

• It seems to me that Zechariah's desire for a Messiah may perhaps have exceeded his desire for a son (this prophecy doesn't have a "me" in it -- Zechariah was rejoicing in the Big Picture and the fact that God was going to use his son in the middle of it!). While carrying an unsatisfied hope in his heart for all those years, he wasn't poisoned or overtaken by it.

• Often, holy, happy words such as these are preceded by disappointment, struggle, pain, and lots and lots and lots of waiting. God works waiting into a lot of things. Apparently, He doesn't see it in the same negative light I usually do.

• My favorite phrase is "with which the Sunrise from on high will visit us." I am awed by the sunrise as I drive toward it every morning. Every day, the world transforms as it turns toward the sun. Gradually, the light makes everything visible. Some days, it's dramatic. Other days, clouds make the exact moment imperceptible, but the light comes nonetheless.

Mmmm...

I so desire that the Sunrise from on high will illuminate a dark struggle I'm witnessing in a nearby marriage.

I'm asking Him to shine on a student's mother who's facing cancer.

I want the warming light of His tender mercy to comfort my dear friend who's facing her first Christmas without her husband or mother.

I am crying out to Him to shine the light of His mercy over past hurts, that they may see His hand both then and now. I'm begging Him to surround them with the light of His presence now, that they may rest fully in it. And I'm asking Him to fortify and energize them with hope in Him for tomorrow.

I'm praying that they may have the strength to continue trusting God while waiting for His sunrise, that they may someday (soon, I hope!) burst forth with some holy, happy words of their own.

"I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me and heard my cry.
He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay,
And He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm.
He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God;
Many will see and fear
And will trust in the LORD." (Psalm 40:1-3)

What Do You Get When You Cross the WWF with Overgrown Rodents? Recess, Naturally

Stepped back as a stream of heavily insulated children thumped past me, all in pursuit of one fourth grade boy.  Snagged one I know to be a storyteller, inquiring, "What on earth are you guys playing?"

 

He cheerfully brushed snow from his face. "It's a fun game. We all chase Bart, and then we pile drive him!"

 

I was obligated to create a new rule. "Hey, no pile driving at recess."

 

"I know," he responded, "but if we don't, then HE touches US, and he turns us into mutant gerbils, just like he is!"

 

Which made the pile driving entirely acceptable, of course.  Can't have a bunch of mutant gerbils running around at recess.

Skinny Jeans Are Not Bread...

...in case you were wondering.

Neither are "likes" on your Facebook status, new shoes, or good hair days, for that matter.

Recently spent an evening with a precious group of girlfriends, reflecting on Scripture and life and then praying together. Much of the conversation centered on being satisfied in God, and I drank in from the wisdom and honesty of others present.

One friend's story stuck with me in particular. She told of being on the way home from work one day when she was struck by an overwhelming urge to buy a pair of skinny jeans. Right then. In the space of a few minutes, she'd transformed from a self-described non-shopper to a woman on a mission. She mentally mapped out shopping possibilities and re-routed herself, plotting and planning her acquisition.

As she pulled into the Opitz Outlet parking lot, a song by Jill Phillips came on the radio. The beginning lyrics arrested her attention:

"O gently lay your head/ upon My chest/ and I will comfort you like a mother while you rest."

In an instant, she recognized her true hunger. It had been a tough day -and week- and she was craving comfort, relief from the load of anxieties and stresses she'd shouldered all day long. What she wanted was exactly what the song described: to rest her head on a faithful Father, soak in His perfect understanding, and know that because of Him, she would not be crushed by all of the situations she could neither remove nor solve.

Regardless of your take on skinny jeans, I think we can agree that no pair of jeans is cut out for THAT task.

As a tag-along to that story, another girl read from Isaiah 55:

Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
And your wages for what does not satisfy?
Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
And delight yourself in abundance.

Isaiah 55:2

In a loose paraphrase: Why do you spend your energy chasing down temporary, visible things to satisfy the invisible needs of your heart?

Oh, do I relate. When I'm honest, I recognize these misplaced expectations as a source of familiar frustration. I've done my share of chasing, whether by shopping or performing or re-reading my blog comments (hint, hint). Getting a pat on the back from my boss or hearing an affirming word from a friend or finding orange leather ballet flats for five dollars (true story!) -- well, none of these is bad, exactly.

That is, unless I'm hoping that receiving them will somehow silence my inner cries for satisfaction and affirmation. When that's the case, deep disappointment inevitably follows even the sweetest gifts.

I sometimes respond to those deeper desires in the same way I deal with hunger after a long day at work: I stand in the kitchen and eat whatever's out on the counter while I pretend to find something to cook...until my appetite has been dulled and I can go on my way. Give me half a bag of chips or a pack of cookies, and I'll momentarily forget my need for a balanced meal.

But just as my body needs that nourishing meal, my soul needs time where I'm listening to God speak to my truest, neediest self. I can crunch away at fleeting reassurances (work a little longer, fish for another compliment, look in the mirror once again), but I'm still hungry (and a bit sick) down the line.

My soul wants bread, and skinny jeans –or anything else I might pursue- just won't cut it.

"Jesus said to them, 'I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst." John 6:35

"Satisfy us in the morning with Your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." Psalm 90:14

Postscript: This post by Genevieve Thul is worth your time -- about prioritizing and consuming God's Word as the only thing that will satisfy. Read it!