Forever etched on my heart

Sophomore year of college...such an amazing year...so many things changed for me, so many defining moments that developed my character today. During sophomore year, Kelly and I hardly ever went to sleep before 3:00 a.m. and were somehow still able to function the next day...oh, the days of youthful living.

The morning of November 18, we had crawled into our beds and lay there talking for about an hour when we decided we were finally tired. I remember looking at the clock and telling her the time...it was 2:42..there was no significance in those numbers in that particular moment...it was just late, and we had to get up early (early to a college student anyway).

A few hours after we had drifted off to sleep, our phone started ringing. It was my mom. She told me she was just calling to make sure we were okay. I told her we were fine and asked what was going on. That's when I found out that the bonfire had collapsed and emergency crews were on the scene. I hung up, told Kelly what my mom had said, and crawled back into bed. Nothing was really registering at the moment, and the severity of the situation was lost between the lack of sleep and the lack of information we had at that moment. As minutes ticked on, I finally asked Kelly if she was still awake, she said yeah, so we got up and turned on the TV. In that moment, things began to come into focus: the gravity of what had happened, the loss of life that would occur, and the lasting impact that the entire event would have on each Aggie.

Images are burned into my mind from that day. Walking out to stack and seeing the gnarled, splintered wood. The picture on the front page of The Battalion that would never be printed again, which showed a student pointing out where other students were located. That student did not survive. His body was twisted in half, but his efforts saved others' lives. The Aggie rings were left at the flagpole, with the knowledge that they would be safe and no one would dare steal them. The makeshift memorials of flowers, signs, pots, and other items became symbols of mourning. The boys covered in dirt and grime as they lifted and disassembled the heavy logs that seemed to resemble a child's game of pick-up sticks instead of a mighty bonfire.

As weird as it may sound, I cherish the fact that I was on campus the year Bonfire fell. It was a defining moment in Aggie's life and an experience that is still difficult to explain. It was one of those moments, though, like September 11. A moment that you wish never had to happen, but because it did, you're proud to be a part of something powerful and amazing that resulted after the fact. The Aggie community has always been considered very tight-knit, but at that moment in A&M history, we were one - one mind, one body, one spirit.

From the Aggie rings left at the flagpole for the fallen students who would now never get theirs, to the students covered in dirt and grim from moving the heavy logs, to the tear-streaked faces of each person knelt in prayer circling the site...it was the most emotional 24 hours that I've ever directly been a part of.

When we heard the 12th student had passed away, something in each of us knew that we wouldn't lose another. The remaining injured students would live...they had to.

Fifteen years have passed, but I recall the day's details like they were yesterday. I will never forget. "Here"

Disengaged Doesn't Mean Disrespect

I can't tell you how many times I've heard the statement: "teachers are the worst students." That statement, however, is extremely flawed.

Though they may be difficult, frequently off task, and highly impatient, that doesn't define them as bad students. In my opinion, that actually makes them the perfect students. Seems wrong at first glance, I know, but you must go deeper than the obvious.

Personally, I love the students who push and challenge me beyond the mundane and the rote nature of a subject. The ones that get bored when you stand and talk about material that you have already discussed and reviewed.

Those are the students who get to the meat of the subject. They are able to go beyond definitions and memorization to the next level, where real learning happens. A place where critical thinking takes them to synthesis and personal discovery.

My argument then becomes: that's exactly what good teachers are...they are the ideal students. The students who push back. The ones that have passed the point of simply being talked at and force-fed information. The ones who desire more, no, require more. They push the bar higher, but frequently come off as disengaged.

In reality, though, they want to be productive and utilize what is there and then go beyond. They talk and do other activities during meetings and tutorials, not because they are being disrespectful or rude, but because they believe their time must be used when available and, to be blunt, they're frequently bored. For example, it is extremely frustrating to sit through meetings about differentiated learning through a presentation consisting of someone merely rattling off words at the front of the room. They understand what's at stake with education and are the workhorses that help to propel students forward to where they need to go.

So then I'll push my argument even further. I argue that for a teacher to be at the top of the field of education, they must be able to engage a room full of other teachers; that's the true test. This person has accomplished the seemingly impossible, stimulating the minds and interest of a group that always craves more knowledge and wants to go that next step.

Fairy tale Endings

While flipping through our 6 channels the other night, I stopped on a news program. A reporter was interviewing some obscure prince from some obscure European locale.

The conversation was about how most members of royalty today are pretty ordinary people and don't possess a lot of wealth or power. The reporter proceeded to ask, what was, in my opinion, the most irrelevant question possible: Considering all of that, do you think it is still healthy or good for little girls to pretend to be princesses?

Seriously, that was her question? Yeah, because when most little girls dress up and assume a princess persona they are identifying with actual royalty. Give me a break. Now, if she were addressing one of the top execs at Disney about the expectations they help create, then the question may actually have sounded plausible.

I did agree with the answer the prince gave though, as he seemed to have more sense than the person doing the interview. His basic response was that he saw no harm in little girls pretending that way, but if they were still thinking in those terms by the time they were 16 and hoping to marry a prince just because he bore the title, then there was a problem. Agreed.

The life of a child is not about having both feet planted firmly on the ground. It is about make-believe, fantasy, and fairy tale endings. It's about frogs that talk, glass slippers that are comfortable, and wishes that really do come true. Little girls don't pretend to be princesses because of wealth or power, it's because they like sparkly things and dressing up and they like the idea of a world where the animals talk and good always triumphs over evil.

Children wake up to reality soon enough. Why not join in the fun and pretend to during those moments before the harshness of the world clouds the idea that there's always a happy ending and justice is not necessarily handed out on this earth, in our time.

The coolest part of all of it, though, is that we really are royalty and my baby girl really is a princess because her Father is the King of kings and the Lord of lords, and through that blood, she has already been given a crown. And one day, when she's older, she'll understand how her crown was purchased by a loving God through the sacrifice of His son and a crown of thorns.

Don't Worry, Be Happy

Besides that, being one of the absolute worst songs to come out of the late 80s because of its infectious nature and bubble gum feelings, it's just a message that sets my teeth on edge. The song makes me think of all the times people have approached me when something was going on and told me, simply, "don't worry about it."

I mean seriously, because if it were that easy to shrug away all my worry and fear, why in the world wouldn't I just "forget about it". It's not like I revel in the idea of being trapped by fear and worry. Or I derive some sick pleasure from that dying feeling in the pit of my stomach...when all I needed to do was "stop worrying".

We all struggle with different things: self-image, a covetous nature, addictions, worry, the list goes on and on. Each person fights their own demons and works to overcome their own sin nature. And yes, in case you're wondering, worry is a sin. If you're someone who has experienced worry in all of its glory, that's easy to understand, because although we tell ourselves worry is natural and okay, it's always consuming as it becomes our sole focus.

So one thing that must be noted is how frequently people interchange the words worry and concern. Yes, they do have some similarities, but they have profoundly different meanings. A certain level of fear and concern is appropriate, while worry deviates into a very unhealthy place where it usually transforms into a sort of idol. Concern and fear often prevent us from doing something stupid or protecting ourselves and others. Worry, on the other hand, is just an unproductive waste of time, energy, and emotions.

Satan uses worry to cripple us completely. It is my daily dose of inception. The tiniest glimpse of an idea catapulted me into panic in mere seconds, bringing me to my knees...which, ironically enough, is right where I need to be.

Defending your mind and heart from worry is an uphill battle when worry is your thorn. When it's the thing that Satan knows is your weak spot, he pushes and twists it in an effort to push God out of the #1 place of your focus.

The worst part about worry, for me, though, isn't the personal pain and heartache it causes, but the reflection of that worry in my daughter. At just 4 years old, I've already seen the seeds of worry take root in her precious little heart and cause her pain. She's such a happy child, but in moments where she's unsure about what is going to happen or how things will work, she breaks down.

So, we start working on it now. Start engraving God's Word on her heart so she has the tools necessary to defeat Satan at his own game and continue to pray each day, that worry is something that she is able to defeat, in Christ's name. Because it is my hope and prayer that one day, very soon, that thorn that is deeply embedded in my side will not be passed down to her as she gets older, but fall by the wayside and wither.

I don't have all the answers, and this side of heaven, I never will, but I have learned, with God's help, how to identify those moments when my mind travels to bizarre places in milliseconds. How to step back from those moments when a passing thought turns into devastation within my mind, and just breathe. Breathe, calm myself, and pray that God would take the place of the debilitating worry that is trying to take control of my thoughts. And though it will probably always be a battle, I have found that I can have small triumphs over worry by recognizing it for what it is and then relying on God's grace to see me through.

Reading Between the Lines

I really wish books came with ratings like movies.

Don't misunderstand, I'm not a fan of banning books, but I am a fan of informing users.

The idea that books like To Kill A Mockingbird and Huckleberry Finn are banned in some schools, but those same schools shelve Dragon Ball Z manga leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I love books, and the two banned books I mentioned are on my all-time favorite list. I just think the text should fit the maturity of the reader.

Yes, by the time most kids reach high school, almost anything is a go... but I'm talking more about the 6-14 crowd. It terrifies me a little bit knowing that it will be nearly impossible for me to read every book Reily wants to read before she does, but I want to try. I don't want to overprotect her or shelter her so much that she is smothered and naive, but I do want to be a good steward of her childhood.

Most parents are not cognizant enough of their children's entertainment input. They see a preview for a movie that happens to be a cartoon and assume it's child-appropriate. Obviously, that is seriously flawed logic, but the same principles apply to books. Books are more complicated, though, because parents are less likely to ever be exposed to the substance between the covers.

We label movies, music, and video games; why not books?

The argument could be made that books are already labeled as "young adult", but seriously...what does that even mean? I'm not saying they should set up a hard and fast age range for every book, but an indication on the cover about sexuality, language, violence, etc would be extremely helpful.

Hope in Tomorrow

Hope. Perceived as such a simple word. Yet it's a word with an extremely powerful and eternal meaning. Every day, though, we throw "hope" around as a very mortal term of expectation, thus diluting how powerful it really is.

The definition of hope on this earth is "to wish something with expectation of its fulfillment". But the cool thing is that Biblical hope doesn't stop at a wish; it provides an assurance of knowledge that will ultimately be fulfilled. Daily, we "hope" we made a good grade on a test, we "hope" our children make good decisions, and we "hope" life flows in a certain order, but there is no assurance to that hope, no promise to the fulfillment of our expectations. Hope in God, though, is always fulfilled.

So what's the difference? The object of our hope.

Hope is about trust, but when we trust people, there is no guarantee...when we trust God, though, there is an absolute guarantee. The Word of God promises many things, and each of them will be fulfilled in His own time. This is why we are able to find peace in hope. We are able to rest in the knowledge that God works all things for good, that he is covering us with his mercy as we walk this earth, and that one day we will be able to look upon His face and find rest.

I just finished reading Mary Beth Chapman's book Choosing to See. It was, at the same time, the most heart-wrenching and the most acutely beautiful book I have ever read. The Chapmans are a picture of what hope in God truly means. To literally walk through the valley of the shadow of death and come out the other side stronger and closer to God than they were before is a beautiful demonstration of the power of hope in the Lord. That is not to say that life is not a difficult journey. Mary Beth Chapman makes it abundantly clear that she struggles on a daily, if not hourly basis. Pain is a part of her life now, and it will never leave her, but she clings to the hope....the absolute truth....that she will see her little girl again soon!

I have found my hope in the Lord, but I admit, it takes effort each day to keep that focus.