The Internet, Mrs. Harris, And Sarah

 

The Internet, Mrs. Harris, And Sarah

This is about one of my favorite students and her favorite teacher! It's from October 9, 2018.
Sometimes in class, I ask random students what they will be doing at 3:25 PM when the last bell of the school day rings. The answer is always along the line of play practice or basketball workouts or going home. My reply is always, "You don't know. None of us knows." I then quote James saying we should preface our intended plans with if it's the Lord's will. That's how our day started at WCS. An electric outage yesterday caused an interruption of Internet service for the first three class periods today. Since everything I had planned in my Bible classes-everything- requires being connected online, I had to be flexible. My 8th graders could not prepare for their quiz over Luke 6:1-16 because we use biblegateway.com instead of paper Bibles and that option was taken away. So, I had them write a sequel to Johnny Lingo, the short movie about self esteem we watched last week. But, that still left some time left over so I did something I haven't done for years- I read to my students. I read to them three short stories from the wonderful book shown above by John William Smith, one of my favorite writers and speakers ever. I told the kids about Doris Harris, my best elementary teacher and maybe one of the best two or three teachers I ever had on any level. Mrs. Harris taught fourth grade at Willard School in York, Nebraska and she was amazing. What I recall most was that every day after lunch, she would read to us from The Little House On The Prairie series and that was the very best part of my day. She fostered a love for reading that my folks had kindled- Mrs. Harris set it on fire. I'm eternally grateful for her gift to me that year I was blessed to dwell in her classroom. 

By sixth period, we were fully functional again. As you may know, I put a bonus question worth one correct answer on each quiz or memory verse. After explaining the value of Doris Harris to my education, I told the juniors in my Gospels' class that the following was their bonus for the quiz which covered Luke 6:17-36:
In several sentences, tell me who your favorite teacher of all time is AND why.
There were a number of excellent responses but I particularly like Sarah's. Here is what she wrote:
My favorite teacher of all time is Mrs. Warner in first grade. She was a very old widow. She would always tell us to be creative and would always tell us stories. She always would smell like vanilla when I would hug her. She was by far my strictest teacher but I know she loved me the most. She taught me to love poetry and reading. She first introduced me to chapter books and poetry. I miss her a lot.
My guess based on my own experience is that Mrs. Warner was probably not as old as Sarah remembers. I love her memory of her scent and that Mrs. Warner let Sarah hug her. Teaching is so much more than just imparting facts; it's about imparting love. Jesus taught in Luke 6:40 that, 
The student is not above the teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like their teacher.
I hope in some small way that I've turned out like Mrs. Harris. And I've no doubt, no matter what career she chooses, that someday, Sarah will be like her beloved Mrs. Warner. That would be a fitting final chapter in the book of learning Mrs. Warner inspired, wrapped up neatly with the lasting fragrance of vanilla.

Applicable quote of the day:
I have come to believe that a great teacher is a great artist and that there are as few as there are any other great artists. Teaching might even be the greatest of the arts since the medium is the human mind and spirit. 
John Steinbeck

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Uwem And Ancestry.Com

 

Uwem And Ancestry.Com

This entry, from October 7, 2018 is about a kid I loved having in class!
Uwem is one of the favorite kids I've had in class. Now a junior, he's on his secobout a kid I loved having in class!nd tour of duty in my Gospels class after surviving 8th grade Bible three years ago. Last week, we had recruiters from West Point on campus at lunch. They had a table set up with no takers. I told Uwem I'd give him two points on our test that day if he went over and spoke with the lady and gentleman. I bragged on him to our guests, telling them that Uwem is gifted in athletics and the fine arts as well as being smart. He spent a good fifteen minutes with the recruiters, time he could have spent eating and socializing. Later in class, I asked him what he learned. His reply? "Coach, it's really hard to get in there!" It is but I told him it's not out of the realm of possibility!

That brings us to Wednesday. Each day on our quizzes and memory verses, I ask a completely random question with eight possible answers, all posted on the screen. On Wednesday, the question was, "Where does Michael rank in most common boys' names in Nigeria?" (The correct answer is second!) As I posted the question, I made the statement that Uwem and his family along with myself and others had enjoyed celebrating Nigerian Independence Day which was this past Monday. There was some giggling and I asked, "Are you saying Uwem and his family aren't Nigerian?" The response was along the line of we don't mean Uwem, Coach. (Uwem and his family are in fact Nigerian.) My rejoinder was, "You do know my grandfather was from Nigeria, don't you?" The silence instantly became deafening. I let them sweat for about five seconds and then told them I was kidding. I am pretty sure I heard some sighs of relief from the kids as we went on to take our memory verse which was Ephesians 3:20-21.

I found it fascinating that not one of the kids challenged what I said about being Nigerian. We have spoken in class that my heritage is Danish, Irish, and English.They knew I'm not Nigerian deep down and yet.... My guess, born out by their nods when we discussed it, is that they might have been perceived to be slighting my ancestry if in that 1 in 100,00 chance my statement was true. Plus, these kids have been raised to believe authority figures and I have always stressed honesty with them, making some point in truthfulness almost every in class. Once I told a class that a problem with being left handed is that it's very difficult to find a left handed tennis racket or baseball bat- no rebuttal at all. About the only time I've been even mildly questioned is when I've shared that I once was engaged to Shakira. No such luck for her!

When do we speak up and when do we let something slide? Some things are, of course, minor and innocent mistakes. What time class lets out on SCHEDULE D or what's on the lunch menu today would be examples. There is zero harm associated with those instances. Some things are opinions and most have no real bearing on anything. How about a rumor that is both false and harmful? Jesus said He was the way, the truth, the life. He also said the truth will set us free. In the spiritual realm, we take the Word as our source of truth; that's why the Bereans were considered praiseworthy for making sure Paul was telling the truth in his sermons. We have to be able to discern what is true before we can take any next step. But truth doesn't come by osmosis. It takes effort and time and maybe someone to guide us along the path, ie the eunuch and Phillip. Then, we choose time and place to take our stand. Peter reminded us that our dealings should be handled with gentleness and respect, not easy in this contentious society but vital. Buy the truth and sell it not, we're told in Proverbs. That's still a great mantra for life, even thousands of years later! And one more thing- Happy Independence Day to all my (for five seconds) fellow Nigerians!

Applicable quote of the day:
You don't stumble upon your heritage. It's there, just waiting to be explored and shared. 
Robbie Robertson

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Time In A Bottle

 

Time In A Bottle

Some of the kids I wrote about here are now in their forties! The following, from May 22, 2007, covers an exercise of remembrance for my students.

We've been making time capsules in my Bible classes as the end of the school year looms. I guess the term time capsule is kind of a stretch. I have all the students in a period sign one of our Honduras bank bottles with a Sharpie. On a sheet of paper, they jot down their favorite memory/memories of the year in class. Some write a sentence and some use an entire page. The papers are folded and stuffed inside the plastic bottle and deposited in the bedroom closet in my apartment. Lord willing, I'll pull them off the shelf in ten or fifteen years and reminisce through the eyes of young men and women. When I read them again, these kids will be on the adult side of twenty..... or thirty.

It's been a good year in Room 258. Part of the reason I'm upbeat about the past nine months is the group of seniors enrolled in my Life Of Christ classes, normally reserved for sophomores. There is a huge difference between a sixteen and eighteen year old. Life is about to get very interesting for the group picking up their diplomas in ninety-six hours. What will the upcoming twenty-five years hold for the Class of 2007? Like any of us, it can go two ways. Just ask Jerry Ambrozuk. In 1982, the eighteen year old Canadian and Dianne Babcock, his eighteen year old girl friend, rented a plane and flew across the border into the United States to start a new life. In attempting a water landing, the small plane sank in a Montana lake and Babcock drown. Ambrozuk disappeared and has been living in Texas under an assumed name since the crash. After being featured on America's Most Wanted, the Canadian expatriate was captured and this week was in court receiving a suspended sentence from a plea bargain and the dropping of negligent homicide charges. Ambrozuk testified he tried to save Babcock but was unable to pull her from the plane. Do you know how they finally tracked down Ambrozuk? An unpaid water bill! It just seems fitting. What a way to spend a quarter of a century. My prayer is that none of our seniors end up dying prematurely or evading the law for decades. I pray their steps lead them on righteous paths and their legacy is one of excellence in the Lord. I pray when I open those time capsules in the distant future, the good memories they have penned will match my recollections of their lives as teenagers and ultimately, as adults.


Applicable quote of the day:
"We seem to have a strong compulsion these days to bury time capsules in order to give those people living in the next century or so some idea of what we are like."
Alfred Hitchcock

To listen to the incomparable Jim Croce sing Time In A Bottle, please copy and paste link below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dO1rMeYnOmM

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Evidence

 

The Evidence

Who is watching us? WE NEVER KNOW! This is from September 26, 2013.
As you might remember, I get up very early to exercise. This time of year, I wade gingerly into our apartment pool about 5:30 AM or so and swim for 21+ minutes. When it gets too cold, and it's increasingly brisk lately, I'll go back to Chancellor's, my fitness club close to WCS, and swim there before school. My schedule will become more complicated November 1 when a local high school squad will use Chancellor's for their 6 AM practices so I'll have to swim in the afternoon after lifting weights. I wear pool shoes because I run in the water along with swimming and the pool has a concrete bottom which is rough on even the tough skin on our soles. Let me tell you, the early morning dark dip is a terrific way to gun your body's engine, especially when it's cold. Four years ago, I made it to the weekend before Thanksgiving before the frigid water became more than I could take. I think I've got at least 3-4 weeks in me this autumn!

My apartment complex has about 500 units but I'm ashamed to say I only know six residents by name, not including people I work with. I do know quite a few folks by face but I'm at school all day and travel during our vacation times and apartments have a transient nature. That's why I was taken aback yesterday at the outdoor community mail box center. An elderly man I did not recognize was standing there when I unlocked my mailbox and he said something that caught me off guard.
"I see you went swimming this morning."
I really didn't know what to say so I said something along the lines that I had not seen him. His reply?
"I saw your footprints in the hallway."
I don't know what time he got up but I was out of the pool by roughly 6 AM. As I followed him out of the mail area, I saw he went into a doorway that indeed is on my path to and from the pool. I never knew anyone noticed.

Our lives are under constant scrutiny without our being aware. I hate to make another Person Of Interest reference but it's almost like that with human surveillance instead of electronic monitoring. The gentleman knows me and I have no clue who he is. People notice what we wear which often in my case is clothes bearing the logo and title of my place of employment where we profess to be believers even in our name. I've had others mention the cross around my neck which I often forget I'm wearing. And as I've written lately, people will comment about my shoes, particularly the orange Adidas pair! But we don't have to be physically present to be noticed. What we do and the report of how we conduct ourselves is carried through the voices and opinions of those with whom we may not share any apparent connections. One of the last acts of kindnesses Jesus performed on the far side of His crucifixion was humbly washing the feet of those in His circle, even the betrayer. We don't make a big deal over the beauty of feet but they are indispensable to the ability of living what most consider a normal life. And every step we take leaves an imprint, even if it dries up quickly. The footprints of those who change our lives forever, though, will never evaporate. The funny thing is that we might be those footprints to others and in out naivete, never be conscious of our influence. Watch where you step.

Applicable quote of the day:
"If you really want to get your feet wet, you have to first have the courage to step in the water."
Eugene Nathaniel Butler 

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Precious Memories

 

Precious Memories

Dad died in April of 2008. The following was written shortly after his passing. It is from October 5, 2008.

I have found myself missing Dad quite a bit lately. It hit me that it is only ten days from the sixth month anniversary of his death. I find myself playing a song by Jerry Jeff Walker (Desperadoes Waiting For A Train) on you-tube because it talks about the passing of an old man. ("The day before he died, I went to see him. I was grown and he was almost gone.") This morning as I led our Chinese congregation in communion, I mentioned my sadness, mixed in with the happiness of the memories of Dad, comparing those feelings to Jesus' directive that the purpose of the Lord's Supper was to remember him. During the sermon, Linda handed me a note. Linda and her husband, Buddy, are wonderful Christians who also work in our Chinese ministry. Several years ago, their daughter was murdered, a pain for parents I doubt most can ever fathom. Here is the note Linda wrote to me, shared with her blessing:

"Steve, you mentioned memories of your father and the sadness. The following is just one of the many memories that I have and I become sad over the loss of her beautiful soul and presence. When Natalie was a teenager, I went to visit her at her job. She was very busy polishing the brass rails at the pizza shop. She was so proud of the fact that the rails shined so beautifully. Natalies's little hands and fingernails were dirty and rough looking. So, now when I see brass rails, I think of Natalie and how hard she worked and the pride that she took in perfection."

I thanked Linda for the right word at the right time. My pain is that of a son who lost an elderly father. Hers is the pain of a mother who lost her child decades too early. Imagine what our Father in heaven felt as His son went to the cross for us. I know He felt Linda and Buddy's grief and carried them through the worst time in their lives. He hasn't forgotten how it feels.

Applicable quote of the day:
"Take care of all your memories. For you cannot relive them.”
Bob Dylan

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

Concrete And Clay

 

Concrete And Clay

I made eleven mission trips to Honduras, from 1998 through 2008, and found how little I knew of the rest of the world. This entry, from July 27, 2006, is about one of my favorite journeys to Honduras.

(That's me in the blue scrub top, lower right corner!)
They never made it big but they had my favorite name ever for a rock group: The Unit Four Plus Two. A pop combo from England, they started as Unit Four but required a different moniker with the addition of more musicians. Like many groups from that era, they achieved success with only one record. Theirs was the smash hit Concrete And Clay, one song I'd love to sing along with on the Houston oldies' station, but they never play it. Since you are unlikely to hear it if you live in the nation's fourth largest city, I can at least provide a few lines from the chorus of this British invasion classic:
The sidewalks in the street,
The concrete and the clay beneath my feet begins to crumble:
But love will never die
And we'll see the mountains tumble, before we say goodbye.I guess you'll just have to imagine the tune yourself (or watch the youtube video!) but it had sort of a bossa nova beat. The lyrics might be a little corny but love was portrayed as a permanent commitment. Concrete represents stability, something solid to stand on. In an unstable world, stability is a precious commodity.

During the past several years, I have become thoroughly acquainted with concrete. On a mission trip to Haiti, I discovered that for much of the world, concrete does not magically stream out of the back of a cement truck and land wherever it is directed. I found that in poor countries, it is mixed on the ground and carried in buckets or wheelbarrows to its desired destination. I also have come to the belief that every adult male in Haiti and Honduras has expertise in making concrete the old fashioned way. Since we do alot of construction work to aid local Christians on our Honduras missions AND since the Lord blessed me with no other discernible construction skills, I spend most of my time preparing concrete for floors, walls, and bridges. Here is the Honduran recipe we followed this summer:
A. Take 2 wheelbarrows of sand, heaped up and sifted.
B. Add one eighty pound bag of Portland cement, dry.
C. Mix with shovels; remix.
D. Hollow out the center of the pile like mashed potatoes.
E. Add water and mix with shovels for several minutes.
F. Add water, sand, or powdered cement to achieve desired texture.
G. Shovel into wheelbarrows or five gallon buckets.
H. Repeat process continuously for hours.
I. When in doubt, mimic the Hondurans.
I love making concrete. At the end of the day, I am filthy, covered with a combination of the various ingredients which comprise my favorite building material. Over the past nine years, I have spent roughly one hundred days in Honduras. Last Tuesday was one of my two or three favorite of the hundred. A group of our Shine Mission team, mostly young and heavily female and with the valuable assistance of several local men, put down a concrete floor in a church building in one day. I have never witnessed such teamwork from such a diverse collection of Christians. Isolated in the wooded hills above San Marcos de Colon, this house of worship occupies the most beautiful location I know of any structure set aside for the praising of God... and now it has a solid floor to rest on. The work was difficult, the rain was soaking, the forty-five minute ride back on a flat bed truck was numbingly cold....and the memories will last a lifetime. And Lord willing, so will the concrete.

Applicable quote of the day:
"Concrete is, essentially, the color of bad weather."
William Hamilton

The music video of Concrete And Clay by The Unit Four Plus Two is very primitive by modern standards!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zstZkoGyZS4

Shoutout to our El Rodeo Concrete Crew, July 18, 2006:
Tim McDonald (our fearless leader for the day),Callie, Katie, Casey, Allie, Molly, April, Larry, Casey, Ben, and Macy.
"But as for you, be strong and do not give up for your work will be rewarded."
II Chronicles 15:7

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Coverup

 

My apartment complex office does a once a year walk through of each of the 500 or so living quarters. I put a lot of time cleaning up when they do- I don't want to be embarrassed at what they see! This is from June 14, 2007.


I have clean carpets. Every six months, my apartment complex arranges for the free cleaning, one of the perks of living here. They shampooed the rugs this past Monday and as always, the result was terrific. My only responsibility is to get everything off the floor so the men can do their job. In the middle of the living room was an old, red heavy couch the guy next door gave me a number of years ago when he decided to get rid of it. On Tuesday, I concluded it had to go. Ben Johnson, one of our coaches, is moving out of his apartment. He had on old recliner and knew of another chair I could have to take up the space in front of the television set. When Ben made his furniture delivery, we pulled the couch away from the wall it had rested against for five years. I was embarrassed. The area surrounding where the couch had been was spotless but the rectangular sofa space was disgraceful. It was covered with dust-balls, food particles, and I'm not sure what the rest of that stuff was. After Ben left, my first order of business was to restore order to the part of the carpet that would now be partially exposed. It wasn't difficult. A good vacuuming and washing of the baseboard left it equal to the rest of the rug. Actually, it's probably even a little better without any wear-and-tear for the past half-decade and not quite as faded.

I'll be honest. I don't vacuum under the couch or the bed unless I absolutely have to. Who's going to see it, anyway? (I had a debate with my students this year as to whether I should iron the back of a dress shirt if I'm going to be wearing a jacket and no one will be wiser. The girls replied in the affirmative while most of the boys said it was a waste of time.) In Matthew 23, while confronting the religious leaders, Jesus uses several illustrations of looking good on the outside while being rotten on the inside. In verse 25, he refers to cups/dishes which were scrubbed on the exterior but whose interiors were caked with greed and self-indulgence. Two verses later, he compares the spiritual elite to tombs, whitewashed and ornate to the observer but containing bodies and bones, unclean to the Israelites, inside the walls. The thrust of the Savior in the section was hypocrisy, a character trait which has not become extinct in the succeeding two millennia. I can make myself presentable to the world while sporting a very different interior. It isn't hard- well, that hard- to make Apt. 3329 semi-presentable with a reasonable amount of time to work with. I would be well-advised to move the furniture occasionally when I do. My spiritual life could use some rearranging and vacuuming as well. It's probably best if I don't wait five years to do so. The memory of what resided under that old, red couch is a pretty good incentive!

Applicable quote of the day:
"All of us have moments in our lives that test our courage. Taking children into a house with a white carpet is one of them."
Erma Bombeck

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1