Last week was the first week of school. Since I am the parent of two transitionally challenged children, we take these new beginnings carefully. My oldest has started Middle School (which is a transition that has challenged me) and my youngest has started First Grade. With my youngest, the "transitional challenge" has historically been his process of discovering where the new boundaries are with the new teacher and challenging the flexibility of said boundaries.
As any good parent, we have been questioning the children each day on how things are going. My youngest likes to collect money, so the reward system in his class ... getting a dolphin penny for good deeds and changing 10 pennies into a dime and collecting 4 dimes for reward ... seems to be going well.
On Friday my wife was questioning our youngest about his day. He was noticeably down, so she knew something had not gone well. To the question, "What's wrong?" His answer was, "It was a No Max Day." Not knowing exactly what that meant, but getting ready for the possibility that he had to pull a stick (the opposite of the penny reward) ... the teacher saying, "No Max." ... my wife asked for more details. To "How was it a "No Max Day"? his response was "On the playground at recess, everyone I asked if I could play with them said, 'No, Max.'"
BIT: It is a hard life lesson. Sometimes the answer to our questions is "no". That God sometimes tells us "no" was the topic of Sunday's sermon. Paul, who usually seems to have it all together is told "no" twice in Acts 16:6-7. Paul wanted to go to Asia but "having been kept by the Holy Spirit from preaching the word in the province of Asia" (that's Bible Speak for "no"). Then Paul wanted to go to Bithynia "but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to" (again a Biblical "no"). Yet, even after two divine "no's" Paul kept on trying and finally the answer came in a vision "of a man of Macedonia standing and begging him, 'Come over to Macedonia and help us.'" (vs. 8)
I shared a little about last week being a "No John" week. A couple of really good things for the church, or at least I thought they were really good things, turned out to be divine "no's". It is easy to respond to "no's" (especially divine "no's") like a first grader ... "So what did you do, Max?" "I went over and sat by myself." Sometimes that's what we want to do. Give up or get into a mood.
BITTER: So, I've decided to model Paul. My plans were vetoed with a divine "no." Yet, we're going to keep on moving. Notice that Paul didn't stop, he "went down to Troas" (vs.8). We're going to keep connected to God in prayer, work out the plan before us, and wait for our vision of who is to "come on over to First Farragut and help us."
My youngest didn't give up completely. Monday he hit the playground, found two boys who wanted to play with him, and had a great time. He even managed to find a new girl friend. I bet it was a "Yes Max Day."
The reminder came yesterday from my wife, "Tomorrow is Friday." Now, usually that statement is not remarkable for someone grounded in reality and having access to a calendar (my wife IS grounded in reality and while being, at times, scheduling challenged, she has a calendar). What made the announcement remarkable has to do with background. Since my wife is a teacher she has off during the summer. Since there is no school during the summer, my children are also home. The upside of this is that it means that scheduling vacation is easier. The downside is that I lose my alone time on Fridays.
The "background" came about half way through the summer vacation season when I accidentally let something I was thinking slip out of my mouth. The slip was, "I can't wait to get my Friday's back." My wife didn't have to have an interpretation, she knew what I meant, and she was offended (and rightly so). But once it's out ...
BIT: During the school year, Fridays are my day to decompress from the week. It is my day off. I have a very set schedule. I take my oldest to school. I go to the grocery store and do my shopping in a particular way (OCD). I come home and put the groceries in their proper place (OCD). I usually work on some project at home. I eat lunch and go to the gym to workout. I pick up my oldest from school. I soak. I cook dinner. Note there is no "we" involved in my Friday. It is refreshing and, for my introverted self, it recharges me for a new week in an extroverted vocation. As dysfunctional as I've described it, my Fridays are like my Sabbath.
During the summer Fridays look very much like Saturdays. There is a "we" component. It's not that I don't like being around my family ... Though this was the way my wife took, "I can't wait to get my Fridays back."
I do love being around my family. I just need "I" time. Life without a Friday is like someone not following the natural flow of the grocery story, or not putting all the cold items together on the checkout conveyor, or not putting the cereal on the "cereal" shelf.
BITTER: Today is the first Friday that everyone has been in school. This was what my wife was talking about yesterday. So, I dropped off my oldest at school. I went to the grocery store and followed the proper flow through the grocery store. I put my groceries on the conveyor with all the cold items together. I got home and put everything on their proper shelf. My project has been this blog. I will go to the gym in a few. I will pick up my oldest at school. I will come home and have the most amazing saltwater soak in my jacuzzi bath tub. I will grill turkey burgers on the grill with Steak Fries that will make my wife grin. So ... bring on life ... bring on church work ... bring on the family ... you can even put the cereal on the wrong self ... 'Cause, I Got My Friday Back, Baby!
I LOVE vacation. It's not that I don't love my job, I do. But I like to get away and travel. Go to the ocean, camp, relax, eat good food ... Because my wife is a teacher, we have to schedule vacation during her time off (I love taking my wife on vacation with me). This usually means the concentration of our vacation is during the summer. For some reason, it seemed to me, and to others, that I was away most of the summer, even though I wasn't.
Because we have so many projects going on at the church (sealing and striping the parking lot, new roof for the building, etc.), the chair of trustees has had to call me several times to coordinate visits, workers, and schedules. First he called me at Annual Conference (which is NOT vacation, though I am wandering around in shorts and camping in my motor home with my family ... but I do work). The next time he called I was in Myrtle Beach on vacation number 1. Then two weeks later, while on vacation number 2 in Atlanta, jokingly he asked, "How many days of vacation do we give you?" To which I replied, "A bunch, and thank you very much for all of them."
BIT: Vacation does make me feel uncomfortable, perhaps guilty. So many things are left undone each time I leave, no matter how hard I've tried to cover all the bases. Maybe it goes back to the "Historic Examination" questions for ordination. There are 19 powerful questions that we must answer before we can be ordained. Question 17 is "Are you determined to employ all your time in the work of God? Question 19 is "Will you observe the following directions? a) Be diligent. Never unemployed. Never be triflingly employed. Never trifle away time; neither spend any more time at any one place than is strictly necessary."
I get stuck on some of these questions from time to time. Like question 2, "Are you going on to perfection?" Well, some weeks it doesn't feel that way. Some weeks it feels like I'm on the highway to hell (spiritually). But usually questions 3, 4, & 5 can get me back on track, "Do you expect to be made perfect in love in this life? Are you earnestly striving after it (perfection)? Are you resolved to devote yourself wholly to God and his work?"
BITTER: The same is true for question 17 (Are you determined to employ all your time in the work of God?) No, I'm determined to employ some of my time in hanging out in a beach chair, completely unemployed, trifling away time doing absolutely nothing. And, I may spend more time than is strictly necessary doing this.
Of course the argument can be made that I'm doing the work of God while resting and relaxing and recharging my spiritual batteries. Jesus did take time to get away. I don't know if I can make an argument for 4 weeks ... though I might try.
Well, I'm back and ready for a new season at First Farragut. I can answer 17 with a "yes" ... until next summer (maybe if I take all the weeks in a row, no one will notice I'm gone?).
Last week was the first week of school. Since I am the parent of two transitionally challenged children, we take these new beginnings carefully. My oldest has started Middle School (which is a transition that has challenged me) and my youngest has started First Grade. With my youngest, the "transitional challenge" has historically been his process of discovering where the new boundaries are with the new teacher and challenging the flexibility of said boundaries.
