Yearning

Yearning

How can you miss someone you never really knew,
And in whose absence, never really knew you?
Whose blood runs through your veins,
Though you are all that remains
Of life that once prospered and grew?

How can you want something that never was to be,
In eyes through which you were never meant to see?
All the riddles and the rhymes,
All the questions lost in time,
The answers to which just might set you free?

How can you love something that is not there,
The dust you worship oblivious to care?
No more thought of loss or win,
Only now what might have been
Before life's spark was dispersed into the air.

This is the yearning of the soul
On its journey to be whole.
Someday you'll have faith to see
What might have been will come to be,
All things are possible when at last we see the Goal.

Connected

When it comes to technology, and the sending and receiving of information, I am more connected now than I have ever been. I have a desktop computer, a laptop, an iPad and a smartphone. Our home is rigged up with wireless Internet. I can access most any piece of information or knowledge within seconds. I can contact anyone I so desire, and can myself be contacted by those same people, within mere moments. I can buy and sell things online with the click of a button, play games with people thousands of miles away with the swish of a finger, give direction to people who work with me via text message without ever setting foot in the office. Without hyperbole, I can easily say I am the most connected person that has ever existed within my family. 

And yet, within the framework of all this connectivity, I can't help but wonder if there might just be a fundamental disconnect, perhaps best expressed in this question: Does the instant access to almost all things diminish us in some way? Is there any value in the practice of waiting?

One of my favorite passages from the Bible comes from 1 Kings. It describes the prophet Elijah, and his meeting with God. The thing is, God didn't just show up. Elijah had to wait for a number of things to happen before he and God could get down to business with each other. 

1 Kings 19:11-13 The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.”Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” 

I have come to embrace my life of connectivity, and have no desire to give it up. In many ways, access to technology and instant knowledge has allowed me to better function, as both a leader and a human being. Despite this, however, I cannot deny that sometimes there are powerful lessons to be learned simply by waiting for things to come to you, instead of trying to find all the answers at once. There is value in sifting through the winds, earthquakes and fires of life, waiting for the gentle whispers that God sometimes provides. Sometimes, our connection to God comes when we hit the "off button" on everything else. 

Coming Down from the Mountaintop

Luke 9:37-43 The next day, when they came down from the mountain, a large crowd met him. A man in the crowd called out, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son, for he is my only child. A spirit seizes him and he suddenly screams; it throws him into convulsions so that he foams at the mouth. It scarcely ever leaves him and is destroying him. I begged your disciples to drive it out, but they could not.” “You unbelieving and perverse generation,” Jesus replied, “how long shall I stay with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.” Even while the boy was coming, the demon threw him to the ground in a convulsion. But Jesus rebuked the impure spirit, healed the boy and gave him back to his father. And they were all amazed at the greatness of God.

As I read these words from Luke, my mind is immediately drawn to reflect on what happened just prior to these particular verses. Jesus and his disciples went up the mountain, where Jesus was transfigured before those who followed him. He hung out for a bit with Elijah and Moses, both of whom had their own mountaintop experiences with God (Elijah in 1 Kings 19, and Moses in Exodus 24 through 32). Then, after the conferencing, it was time to head back down. So, the verses above are the aftermath of Christ's mountaintop experience. They tell of the moments in which he came back to the "real world" in order to undertake the work God had placed upon him.

I have come to view my career in education as a series of mountaintop experiences, always with the knowledge that, at some point, I was going to have to move back into the real world.

Unit plans, lesson plans, curriculum writing, strategy sessions, workshop attendance . . . all of these things that recharge us and/or focus us as educators, are in many ways not unlike the mountaintop experience Jesus had with Elijah, Moses and his Father. Just as Jesus did, however, we as educators must come back down that mountain, back into the real world.  Sooner or later, our lesson plans have to be put into action, we have to stop playing around with our curriculum, and we have to drive home from that conference we are attending and head back into the classroom, where the real reason we do what we do resides. Our real world is populated by the children we teach, and what an unbelieving and perverse generation they can sometimes be...

There is an inherent nobility in a teacher, the emulator of Christ, who comes to work every day seeking to make life better for all those with whom he or she comes in contact. There is an inherent nobility in all of those educators who "fight the good fight" of seeking to be Jesus for those who do not know him. We in public education cannot tell our students about Jesus overtly (nor should we be able to), but we can model his behavior on a daily basis, and we can seek positive interactions with all of our students, every day, in order to move them toward their own mountaintop experiences.

It doesn't do us any good to stay on the mountaintop forever. There is clearly work to be done.

The Book of Love

I listen to a song, off and on, sung by Peter Gabriel. It's called "The Book of Love."  At this moment, I believe it is one of the truest songs ever written. Its inherent truth does not lie in that the song is about any one factual occurrence -- in actuality, Gabriel's song references no true specific event. Rather, the song is about the process of true love in action, and how living that process, though it is sometimes tedious, is more important than any one event along the way.

The Book of Love is long and boring. No one can lift the damn thing. It's full of charts, and facts and figures, and instructions for dancing. 

Great things happen along the way as we live out the process of true love. Sometimes we dance, whether it be metaphorically or in actuality. But true love is so much more than that. True love is about getting up with the kids and letting your spouse sleep in. It's about changing the litter box, even when you have no desire to do so. It's about driving miles and miles to visit the in-laws, or reading Dr. Seuss books when you would rather be watching Doctor Who re-runs. In short, the process of true love is actually a series of trade-offs, some of which benefit you, and some of which benefit your loved ones, but all of which advance the process of true love to the benefit of all.

There are more verses to the song, and perhaps I will write about those later on. In the meantime, enjoy one of the truest songs ever written.

My Lenten Journey 6

Mark 11:1-11 (The Message) 1-3When they were nearing Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany on Mount Olives, he sent off two of the disciples with instructions: "Go to the village across from you. As soon as you enter, you'll find a colt tethered, one that has never yet been ridden. Untie it and bring it. If anyone asks, 'What are you doing?' say, 'The Master needs him, and will return him right away.'" 4-7They went and found a colt tied to a door at the street corner and untied it. Some of those standing there said, "What are you doing untying that colt?" The disciples replied exactly as Jesus had instructed them, and the people let them alone. They brought the colt to Jesus, spread their coats on it, and he mounted. 8-10The people gave him a wonderful welcome, some throwing their coats on the street, others spreading out rushes they had cut in the fields. Running ahead and following after, they were calling out, Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in God's name! Blessed the coming kingdom of our father David! Hosanna in highest heaven! 11He entered Jerusalem, then entered the Temple. He looked around, taking it all in. But by now it was late, so he went back to Bethany with the Twelve.

Genesis 1:27 (The Message) God spoke: "Let us make human beings in our image, make them reflecting our nature."

I've heard each of these scriptures before, but never in context with one another. This week's sermon topic according to the "Journey to Hope" Lenten series uses the three scriptures together to illustrate a point that I had not really dwelt upon before. That point is my individual self-esteem.

I am an outwardly confident person who is plagued with quite a bit of internal self-doubt. I have continuous discussions with myself about whether my abilities and talents are good enough to "get the job done", or about if I even have any abilities and talents in the first place. Most of the time, these internal conversations provide personal motivation for me to be successful. Sometimes, though, the things I think about myself really get me down. During those times, I need a healthy dose of self-esteem. More to the point, I need to have esteem in self through God.

Jesus had this esteem in self that comes from knowing a person is doing God's will. The passage from Mark illustrates this exact point. Jesus did not care about the adulations of the crowd. He knew that in a few days, they'd be turned against him, anyway. Jesus came to Jerusalem on a mission to do God's will, and that's it. Adulations and condemnations were secondary to his overall goal. I've often given/been given advice that essentially says: "Don't worry about the bad stuff people say about you. Keep doing what you know is right." I've never looked at in the context of "Don't worry about the good stuff people say about you ." If I approached life in this way, not getting bent out of shape about bad comments and not getting overly high about good comments, then all that would be left was my own actions and my reasons for doing them. If I could guarantee that all of my actions were done for the benefit of God alone, then at that point my concept of self-esteem would disappear, to be replaced by the esteem in myself I would have because I was doing God's will. On the surface it sounds like a subtle tweak of a phrase -- self-esteem replaced by esteem in self by doing God's will. In reality, it requires a complete altering of a person's lifestyle.

Dear God, please help me subvert my wants and desires in favor of all that you would have me do to fulfill your will here on Earth. AMEN.

My Lenten Journey 5

“The conscience of children is formed by the influences that surround them; their notions of good and evil are the result of the moral atmosphere they breathe.” - Jean Paul Richteran



True statement. Obviously, children who grow up amongst those who have the true spirit of God dwelling inside them have a better chance at growing up "right", whatever the connotation of that word might be. I've mentioned that Lent is a time to come closer to God and try to figure out what he wants for me in my life. I've also mentioned that, in some ways, I ALREADY know what he wants for me. One of the things I'm sure he calls me to do is be a role model for kids. In reality, he calls ALL of us to do that. As a middle school and high school principal, it's very important to me to be a Christ-like example for the kids I serve. I'm also called to be a role model and Christ-like example for my own children. Every action I take and every word I speak should be done and said with this in mind. That's not the way it always is, of course, and so part of what I need to focus on during this Lenten time is praying and preparing myself to be better at being "Mr. Dimmitt" and being "Dad." I need to be the true example of Jesus Christ for every kid I meet -- my own and everyone else's as well.




Heavenly Father, thank you for the opportunity to be a father here on Earth. Thank you for the opportunity to lead a building with kids who yearn to find you, even if they don't know it. Help me be an example of the life and teachings of Jesus Christ in this world, so that these kids may learn who you are through me. AMEN.

My Lenten Journey 4

"Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God — what is good and acceptable and perfect."
- Romans 12:2 (NRSV)

This verse that Paul writes in his letter to the Romans is the essence of Lent. Make a sacrifice of the things of this world that are not necessary and use the space that is created in their absence to find the will of God in your life.

I have sacrificed lunch (even though I fell off the wagon yesterday, my birthday). I am using the time gained by not eating to write this blog. So, now, it's time to get discerning, I guess. Here's the point that keeps raring up in my mind right now. I think I know already what God wants me to do, in that the scriptures are a blueprint for that -- remember that the Bible is a handbook of interaction between spiritual and worldly affairs. Maybe the better question to ask at this point is "how can I do those things that God wants me to do better than ever before?"