The Good Girl

I wonder if God got a chuckle out of the fact that my married name is Mrs. Good. Ever since grade school, I feel like I’ve lived in this strange tension of secretly wanting to be rebellious and risqué and popular, but finding myself being “the good girl.” Now it’s just official.

Now that I work in a high school, I cannot escape seeing the same social cliques and high school politics that I experienced not too long ago. I see the girls who are a lot like I was: smart, opinionated, morally conservative, not really athletic, and not in a particular social group. I see the girls who I would have envied: petite, athletic, coy, wild, popular. I see the boys I would have liked: smart, funny, slightly rebellious and unpredictable, athletic, charming. I see the girls I would have been friends with, the classes I would have taken, the teachers I would have loved and hated, the couples and their drama that seemed oh so important in the high school world.

It’s interesting looking at high school from this new vantage point of teaching. I find that, on one hand, I realize how unimportant some of the things that I once cared so much about—finding a date to prom, getting an A+ in every class, being liked by the ‘right’ people, having a boyfriend—really were in the grand scheme of things. Why did I waste so much time worrying about that stuff?

But, other hand, there is a part of me that still experiences some of those same desires, manifested differently of course. There is still a part of me that longs for popularity and praise. Deep down, I really want my students to think I’m cool and love being in my classes. I want them to think I’m fun, and pretty, and smart. I want to be picked first for the metaphorical kickball team. But, I’m not willing to do those certain things—break the rules, have low standards, let students do whatever they want, talk about inappropriate things—that I know would make me more popular. I want to be a good teacher AND a popular teacher, but being good is usually not popular. Just like high school.

So, I live in this tension. And I wish there wasn’t tension, because it’s uncomfortable and it exposes my idols. (Mark Driscoll says that we’re all worshippers by nature, and the things that we worship are exposed by what we spend our time, energy, thoughts, and money on). Mine are maintaining my reputation and seeking the praise of people. If these weren’t idols in my life, I wouldn’t feel so devastated when students hate my classes or dislike me. I wouldn’t come home and cry after getting a critical email from a parent. I wouldn’t obsess about that one negative comment and forget all the positive ones.

As I’m confronted with these idols over and over and over again, I’m realizing that God cares much more about my sanctification than my comfort. God is showing me that when I draw attention to myself and seek to bolster my reputation and receive praise, I am distracting people from the One who truly merits it. My life needs to point to Christ, not to the mirror. Only then am I free to love my students selflessly. Only when I’m pointing them to Christ am I being a teacher with eternal significance; and that is the good reputation I should seek.

Back then

"Back then, things cost a lot less."

This was the response of a sophomore student of mine after I finished telling a story in class today.

Back then? I thought I'd be at least 40 before hearing that. I mean, it's true that things were a bit less expensive when I was 16. A dime could buy gum balls at the grocery store. Stamps were only 25 cents. And I do recall when gas was less than $1.50 per gallon.

I suppose life was simpler in the mid-90s.

But, that does not mean it has earned the "back then" status.

On Complaining

I teach 12th grade English and we are now entering the homestretch. Senior-itis has fully kicked in, and even the students who were once outwardly engaged in class have started to verbalize their discontent. Just two days ago, I was explaining an assignment and the cacophony of complaining began. From the front row, I heard, "This sucks! I hate peer editing!" Another student in the back agreed, "This is our last semester. Can't we just have a break?" Still another turned to a friend and asked, "How many days until we're out of here?" Even those who were polite enough not to say anything rolled their eyes, sighed audibly, or began to tune me out.

My reaction to these complaints, depending on the day, ranges from mild irritation to outright anger. I understand that they are high school students who are pretty self-focused and short-sighted, but can't they at least acknowledge that the assignments (although not pleasurable) are beneficial? Is it possible that, instead of being a maniacal sadist who takes great delight in inflicting literary pain upon them, I actually care deeply for them and have the whole curriculum planned for their greater good? How dense can they be?!?

But, then I started thinking about my own heart.

I am often, like my students, self-focused and short-sighted toward God.

I cry, "This sucks! I hate moving and starting over!" Just this summer, I screamed this prayer to God on a drive home after officially resigning from my familiar, secure teaching job.

I cry, "Why can't you let things be comfortable and easy just this once?" Sometimes I'm tired of being in a spiritual battle, warring against the lies and temptations of the world and wrestling between obeying the Spirit or my persistent, sinful flesh.

I cry, "How long until I get my way, Lord?" Deep down, I think I believe that God could use a few pointers. If He'd just take my advice and let me take the reins for a bit, the world would be a better place...especially my world.

Even when my prayers are not so overtly selfish, I grumble in my heart and roll my spiritual eyes, sighing, you want me to learn that again, Lord?

I can be just as dense as my students. God, the Creator of the universe and Perfect Teacher, explicitly tells us that He has a master plan, designed for our ultimate good. ("For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11). He tells us that he uses every 'assignment,' even the unpleasant ones, for our benefit. (Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. ~James 1:2-4).

Thankfully, God is a patient teacher, slow to anger and abounding in love. Someday I will understand the purpose of each lesson. But, in the meantime, I'm learning to trust that He is both sovereign and good, so I can rejoice (rather than complain) in all circumstances.

New Year's Resolutions

I am one of those people who loves making New Year's resolutions. The New Year feels like the perfect time for a fresh start with new goals, new hopes, new possibilities. Then I heard on the radio this morning that most people only follow through with theirs for about two weeks before going back to business as usual. Bummer.

So, is it even worth making my list of resolutions? I think so. How can you succeed if you never try, right? You have to audition to get the part. You have to submit a resume to get the job. Enough with the defeatist attitudes out there! One that note, here goes...

1. Read through the Bible this year.
Thanks to my sister, I found this great reading plan called "Read Through the Bible Program for Slackers and Shirkers." Not only is the title awesome, but the plan has just enough flexibility mixed with the structure for my busy life.

2. No more new clothes this year
Really. I have a shopping problem. I justify it by saying that I get everything off of the sales racks. But, I have plenty of clothes. My senior girls (I'm a teacher) informed me that I haven't worn the same outfit to school twice this year (a little weird that they're keeping track, I thought). To which I replied that I mix and match a lot...I didn't mention that I have tons of clothes and I've been keeping track too.

3. Pay off debt.
Succeeding in #2 will help with this one. I need to stop living so much in the present and try a little harder to think toward future dreams. I really want to have kids some day, but Joel and I need to pay off school and car loans first. Especially if we're going to try to live on a teacher's salary.

4. Start a blog.
Check.

And, of course, the proverbial...
5. Lose weight.
Okay, this is an every year resolution. This is the one that makes the 2-week statistic so believable. I did buy an elliptical machine last year. Or was it two years ago? Oh boy.

I'll keep you posted. (If I follow through with #4, that is.)

Settlers of Sanctification

Joel and I bought the game "Settlers of Catan" for my sister, Anna, this Christmas. And it was certainly a gift that kept on giving. I heard the wonders of "Settlers" praised when I was in college, but never played. The idea of arguing about wheat and sheep (or is it grain and wool?) never really appealed to me before...oh, how quickly that changed. My family must have played fifteen games in the week we were together; we even ordered the expansion pack for 5-6 players so we could all play at once.

The primary thing that I discovered is that "Settlers" is not really about strategy or economics or getting to ten points; it's about exposing sin...

Sin 1: Perfectionism and unrealistic expectations

I think there should be a healthy amount of banter in any good "Settlers" game. I mean, part of the strategy is maintaining good PR with the other players for optimal trading partnerships while casting doubt on the other players in order to inhibit their trading potential. But, there is also a fine line between healthy banter and risking real relational havoc. Well, during the very first family game, in the heat of mutual razzing and teasing, my sister casually turned and said, "hey, no need to get personal." I burst into tears. A nerve was hit. Suddenly I was confronted with an area of sin in my heart: I wanted to (for once) have a perfect, hiccup-less vacation where I didn't mess up or let anyone down and I had already blown it on day 1. Instead of trusting Christ's righteousness (in place of my own imperfection) and forgiveness (for when, not if, performance fell short of expectations), I wanted to be my own savior and redeem relationships myself. But, "Settlers" quickly showed me that perfection is not possible and my only hope for healthy relationships is the Cross.

Sin 2: Selfishness

In my family, we play games to win. We are all competitive (to the tune of some games, like "Sorry," being banned from family game night in my childhood). I don't think being competitive is a sin. However, I sometimes found my blood starting to boil if someone took my hard-earned longest road card or a 4 was rolled again (even though it is statistically improbable) and my dad drew another three resources. I wanted to totally give up and disengage once winning was impossible. I cared more about my own success than building relationships and just spending quality time together. Upon reflection, I think this applies to more than just "Catan." How often do I grumble when others enjoy success or are recognized for their giftedness instead of truly rejoicing with them as members in the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:26)?

Sin 3: Is stupidity a sin?

I don't know if this counts as a sin, but I definitely should have declined when asked to play a few times. I knew I was too tired. I knew I needed space. I heard that little voice warning me that playing another game of "Settlers," fun as it may be, was not wise. But I played anyway...and probably experienced one of the aforementioned sins. How often do I do this with the Holy Spirit in real areas of sin? I hear His voice prompting me toward wisdom, but I walk brashly into temptation thinking I'll be the exception to the rule. Stupid.

Thank God that He uses silly things like "Settlers of Catan" to remind me that I'm a work in progress and that He is slowly sanctifying me day by day.