First Day of School

         

            Well at least his foot isn’t jiggling a mile a minute.

 

            I looked down at Javier’s pink Addidas socks and black shoes.  His legs were crossed, his head was resting on folded arms, and his eyes were closed.

            “How’d your first day of school go guys?” Three boys waited for the final bell in the eighth grade Learning Center.

 

            “All anyone talked about was rules and rules and rules,” David crecendoed.

            I smiled sympathetically, but kept my eye on Javier wondering what it would take to get his head up.

    

            Did his ADHD meds ever kick in?  He’s a lot bigger this year.  Is this a crash? Is he taking anything this year?

            “Guys, I told you first hour that today is all about classroom procedures and making sure you have your supplies.  The hard stuff starts soon enough and you’ll wish for a day like today.”

            David unzipped his large three-ring binder and put his pencil into the small zippered pouch inside.  The pouch already bulged with a dozen pencils.

 

            They’ll be gone by Labor Day. Where do they all go?

            “Kevin,” I turned to the third boy, “You haven’t said anything.  How’d your day go?”

            Kevin’s eyes widened and a flush began creeping up his neck.  David twisted around in his seat to stare at Kevin.  Javier continued to sleep.

            “Uhhhhh,”  Kevin’s eyes darted. “Fine.”

            “Any problems or questions?”

            The blush continued creeping up and darkened.  Kevin’s eyes flicked from me to David and back to me.  His mouth pulled into a tiny, timid grin.

            “No,” he whispered breathlessly.

            I studied Kevin wondering how long it would take to peel back some of his shyness.

            “OK.”  Pause.  “Good.”

            I waited a minute then turned back to sleeping pink socks.

            “Javier.  Tell me about your day.”

            I watched his back and shoulders slowly rise as he pulled in a deep breath then heaved it out in a laborious sigh.  He raised his head and stared at me languidly through hooded eyes.  He finished a second grand sigh, then tilted his head and studied me.

            “Mrs. Jones.  You know how in this school there are some really boring teachers?”

             “Yeeeaaah,” I said.  “I know.”

            A grin tugged on the corners of his mouth.  He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head toward me.

           

            I dropped my mouth open and sputtered, “Are you saying I’m boring?”

  

            Javier’s eyes sparkled as he raised his eyebrows higher and tilted his head a second time towards me.

            Welcome back!

That's Not My Job

            What a lazy mower!

            The lawn was lush and dark green.  The edges were trimmed.  The sidewalk was blown clean.  But right in the middle of the lawn were 100 little bits of white paper.

            I walk through my neighborhood in the morning before it gets hot.  It’s a good time to check out how things are faring.  Hate to say it, but I’m getting more and more critical as I get grumpy and old.

            I know exactly what happened because I have done it many times.  You’re pushing the mower along and there’s a piece of paper in your path.  If you let go of the handle to stop and pick the paper up, the mower quits and you have to pull the rope to start it again. 

            “The mower will just mulch it up,” you rationalize. 

            So you plow over it and the piece of paper becomes 100 little pieces.  But they don’t blow away.  And it rains that night.  And your dumb decision is on display for your critical neighbor walking by the next morning.

            I can just hear whoever mowed.  “It wasn’t my job to pick the paper up.   It was my job to mow.”

            I got this picture many years ago, and it still makes me laugh.  

            I’m on summer break and have the wonderful luxury of complete control over most of my days.  What will I do today?  Whatever I want.

            But the little bits of paper on the lawn reminded me of a sermon I heard many years ago by Chuck Swindoll on the Good Samaritan.  In his conclusion Dr. Swindoll pointed out when we ask, “Who is my neighbor?” the answer is your neighbor is the person you see every day who has a need you are fully capable of meeting.

            So let’s twist that principal just a little and apply it to, “What is my job today?”  My job is anything I see in front of me that needs to be done that I’m fully capable of doing.

            Ecclesiastes 9:10 – Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.

Waiting

            Have you ever thought of how much of your life you spend waiting?

            Waiting for Christmas, to go to high school, to get a driver’s license, to go to college, to get married, to have children.

            Waiting for the baby to sleep through the night, to walk, to talk, to go to school, to get in the game, to graduate, to go to college to get married, to call you.

            Waiting for the call, the job, the test results.

            For all the current pep talks telling us to “live in the present,” I think it’s just human nature to be churning over something in our head that we're waiting for.  David wrote a lot about waiting in the Psalms. 

            . . . for you I wait all the day long (25:5)

            Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! (27:14)   

            Wait for the Lord and keep his way (37:34)

            Psalm 37 even tells us to not get angry and fret in our waiting.  (I love that word – fret.)

            Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices! Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath! Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil. For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land. (37:7-9)

            I tend to think of God in terms of power and action.  I want God to heal someone, fix something, DO something.  But maybe what God wants is our trust.  So he asks us to wait, and trust him in our waiting.  And believe that he is in control. 

            But waiting is hard.

            A million years ago I loved singing this song.  It’s by Mendelssohn and is based on Psalm 40:1 – I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. I love this recording because it’s being sung in the kind of setting Mendelssohn might have first had it performed. 

 

 

I Waited For The Lord

Social Studies Test

            Man, I’m just giving this question away.

            I stared down at my revision to the Social Studies test.  The original question  read:

Write a paragraph comparing Socialism and Capitalism.  Be sure to include at least two points of comparison.

            "They'll never get that," I thought.  I crossed out the problems and wrote:

Put a “C” if the statement refers to Capitalism or an “S” if the statement refers to Socialism.

            _____The government owns most of the businesses.

            _____Competition determines the price of products.

            _____The government determines the price of products.

            _____The government is very powerful.

            _____Private citizens own the businesses.

Use the statements above and write a paragraph comparing Capitalism and Socialism.

            Yeah.  I really am giving this question away.

            Three hours later Mrs. Holzworth, the Social Studies teacher, marched into my room and  slapped a test on my desk.

            “You gotta see this.”

            I stared down at Caitlyn’s Social Studies test.

            “Last page,” directed Mrs. Holzworth.

            I flipped to the back and quickly scanned the list of Capitalism/Socialism statements.  Caitlyn had labeled every one correctly.

            “This is great,” I said looking up smiling.  “She got them all right.”

            “Read what she wrote.”

            Under the statements Caitlyn’s round, fat cursive letters read:

            “Capitalism is a company owned by the government.  Everyone has to buy what they sell.  Socialism is a company like Facebook.  The government wants to buy this company because they are very powerful and they want to see what everyone is saying, but Facebook will not sell their Socialism company because they can tell people what the price is.  Capitalism is a good company, but my dad says their web site isn’t working.”

            Nailed it.