Friendship

I LOVE spring break.

It's true, I am so very thankful that I have a job that allows me the opportunity to escape the monotony of life's routines and hit the pause button on my life. It's allowed me for the past two years to pause with my friend, the one who lives in LA.

I wish you all knew the bond that we share (though there are a few of you who do!), it's something that has gone beyond the awkward Jr. High years (and Lord knows how awkward they were!) and will continue into the future where we are both old and gray. We've already planned out what we want to do when we're in our hair curlers sitting around the nursing home playing our millionth game of skipbo.

I love this time with her that I have, where I have escaped my present and take the time to remember with her, to share about the currently paused present, and contemplate our immediate futures.

One of the things that I am continually amazed over, is our ability to continue this friendship. How in the world was I so lucky to find a friend who has continued to be there throughout so many different transitions in our lives? No matter how long I ponder the matter, I inevitably come away with a sense of awe. How did we become such good friends? With just a few short differences in our circumstances, we would have missed each other completely. If she were born a few months earlier, if I had moved in middle school, if we hadn't been placed in a hotel room together... any of these things would have completely changed our lives.

And yet, these things, these circumstances, the contexts in which we found ourselves, were planned out. The purpose is continually being revealed, like fog lifting from the countryside. C.S. Lewis (how I heart him) describes this in The Four Loves. His chapter on the love of friendship ends with describing how friendship is not mere happenstance, but rather a deliberate and well orchestrated composition.

"But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of the Ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples "Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," can truly say to every group of Christian friends "You have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another."

This completely blew me away when I read it. Seriously? I'm left amazed that He thought of me enough to bring my friends into my life, to reveal His beauty all the more clearly, and then I am humbled by the thought that he brought me into theirs to do the same.

Lewis goes on to explain that, well... I'm just going to quote him because there's no way my paraphrase will do any justice!

"The Friendship is not a reward for our discrimination and good taste in finding one another out. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each the beauties of all the others. They are no greater than the beauties of a thousand other men; by Friendship God opens our eyes to them. They are, like all beauties, derived from Him, and then in a good Friendship, increased by Him through the Friendship itself, so that it is His instrument for creating as well as for revealing."

Which is why I am sitting here, thinking of not just my friend in LA, but those I have at home and from home. I think of how their friendship has impacted my life and who I have become today as a result. I think of how my friendship with them, and how I have fallen short so many times of being the kind of friend I should be.

Friendship is a gift. And I am so thankful for it.

The Little Things in Life

After a poor attempt at making Pad Thai (my roommate Lauren is going to have to school me in how to make it... her absence tonight is what I attribute to my failure!), I tried to redeem myself in an attempt to be productive. I gathered up the clothes that were starting to overflow from my laundry basket and made my way to the washer. I sorted, loaded, and started the process of cleaning my clothing.

As I continued the process of laundry, folding my clothes on top of the dryer, I found myself thinking back on the school day. My students and I are studying WWII in Europe, and we finished watching an educational film on the Holocaust. Even though I have read, studied, and seen films on the subject, I am still left with the deepest sense of disturbance in my heart. The kids and I watched a recount of how when the British soldiers arrived at Bergen-Belson, they discovered that the Germans had cut the water lines and the prisoners had been without water for almost a week. In a matter of hours, the Brits had patched the water lines and people were finally able to drink and wash.

There was a clip of a woman washing a piece of clothing. That image replayed in my mind as I continued to fold. She stood outside over a faucet and scrubbed the cloth with her hands. I stood in my utility room beside my washer and dryer and played origami with different styled shirts.

How easy it is to take for granted the little things in life. Little things like running water, the opportunity and option to wash my clothes and have them cleaned with detergent with minimal effort. How often do I think, Gee, I sure am lucky to get to do my laundry! Uh... I'm usually cursing under my breath over the fact that there aren't any more socks in my drawer and I'm forced to do something about it...

But it's not just laundry, it's other things too... like having a warm house, a kitchen to cook in, a bed and room that's my own. How is it that I hardly ever take the time to marvel over all that I have been given?

I want to be the kind of person who stops and takes notice of these things, the little things in life. I want to live a life of realization that I am surrounded by a richness that far too few have been given the opportunity to experience. I want to walk in wonder, and pause in response.

It is a challenge to not become jaded by the monotony of life's seemingly stolid pace, but rather to take in its marvelousness and put on an attitude of gratitude. When this happens, you see more... you hear more... and life ceases to seem dull and mundane.

The little things in life. They're what make it worth living.

The Choice is Yours...

Teachers are awful.

Ok, so that's a bit strong, let me try again. Teachers are awful at some things, like practicing what we preach.

Each morning at my school we hear the phrase, "Make it a great day or not, the choice is yours." and we deep down inside hope that the kids hear that, understand the message, and apply the principle: think about your actions and words, how they effect you and others, and choose to do what is good and right because it's the right thing to do.

Do you know how awful I am at doing this?

It's so easy for me to look at the day once the kids have finally packed up their bags and made their way down to the buses and think about all the crappy stuff that happened. How so-and-so didn't complete his or her work, or how they talked back, put forth such little effort, and trust me the list goes on and on. As easy as it is to simply think these things, it's even easier for me to complain to anyone around about all the things that went wrong in the day.

Now, I'm not saying that you should keep all of these frustrations pent up inside and not share them. It's important to be able to be honest with yourself and to avoid telling everyone you see that life is just fine. But it's equally important to gauge how much of what comes out of your mouth is negative versus positive.

Why is it that finding the positive is so stinkin' hard?

Teachers (ok, not just teachers, but since I am one and work with a bunch of them, this is the group I'm going to pick on) are faced with the dilemma of finding the positive, and choosing to do so, on a daily basis. What makes the situation even harder for teachers is that we are all too willing to feed off of each other's frustrations, add our own, and sometimes even try to compete with each other in how crappy a student or class we have in our rooms this day or year.

Why is it that by talking about the negative stuff provides such a good conversation piece, whereas talking about the positive doesn't ever last very long?

I find that a lot of times, the conversations I have with anyone who will listen about my day very similar to watching more than an hour of the news. Eventually all the stories sound the same, and none of them are all that great. In fact the most interesting ones are usually the most depressing ones. I get frustrated with the news casters and often find myself yelling at them, tell me some good news!

The choice is theirs after all... they're the ones who get to decide what to talk about.

The choice is theirs...

The choice is mine.

The choice is yours.

Make it a Great Day...

Every morning at school, there comes a point where I decide I actually need to enter my classroom and not stand out in the hall talking with my fellow teachers. That point is usually when the principal's voice crackles to life over the intercom and gives the students their morning announcements. There's the usual listing off of events, congratulations to so and so at such and such sporting event, and of course the pledge. However at the end of these everyday topics, the school counselor will share some words of wisdom.


No matter what the message, from being a good student to seeking advice about bullying, the message ends with a simple phrase, "Make it a great day or not, the choice is yours."


I often find myself saying the ending along with the voice over the intercom. The kids look at me like I'm crazy. But I don't care.


Because of this routine in hearing those words repeated, there are times throughout my day I'll find them running through my head... "Make it a great day..."


Which gets me to thinking, how do you make a day great? There are rainy days, week days, school days, and dog days, but you don't make any of those days that specific kind of a day. Those days are simply that kind of a day. But a great day, that is something to be made despite of the inherit type of day it may be.


It starts with a choice of perception. I believe that a great day starts not with the first interaction it encounters, but rather with the choice to look upon this day as one that will be different from the rest, that no matter what, it will be made a day of days. Then from the perception grounded in perseverance and positivity it develops into a great day.


However, I am inclined to believe that it cannot truly be a "great day" if it is only great for one person. There is no true greatness to be had in isolation. Besides, if it's only great for one person, that means it's not-so-great for most everyone else.

I'm left to conclude that in order for it to be a truly great day, I must determine it to be so at the onset, as the sun rises and the gray morning twilight gives way to it's warmth. And I have to choose to make it great not just for me, but for someone else as well, so that we might have something to share and talk about at the end of it, when the sun sinks slowly, reminiscing on how great of day was made.

Make it a great day...