Something I recently read talked about the heart as a rudder that sets the direction our life heads in. Even the slightest movements of a rudder can significantly alter the course of a ship. Just a small piece of metal has the ability to direct a multi-ton vessel. In the same way, the heart, the inside of each one of us, has the ability to affect the direction of our lives, where we go and how we affect those around us.
I want to have the kind of heart that is directed towards honoring God by helping others. That is what I think of as a "right" heart. That kind of heart examines it's own motives and alters course when selfishness or hurt begins to affect direction. Sometimes self-examination can be painful, but it leads to necessary course correction so that I can point my "ship" in the right direction, toward giving my life for the benefit of others.
As I have been ruminating over this I have been thinking about how not only our own heart can determine our direction, but also someone else's heart. I am thinking of a time when I experienced a devastating loss. Not the loss of a loved one, but the loss of dreams, direction and vision. Someone else's actions affected me greatly and sent my life in another direction. Was is completely the other's fault? Absolutely not! My actions added to the crisis point, the point when the rudder changed direction. However, it was the decision of the other that began a complete change of course. I realize, however, that the fate of my "ship" was still in my control. Even though circumstances changed beyond my control, my rudder, my heart, was still my own responsibility. How I chose to direct my own heart would determine what course I would take now, because really, the circumstances of my life and the course of my life are two very different things.
Someone else may have the wrong heart, a heart that is looking out for their own best interest rather than mine, and out of that wrong heart make a decision that affects me in an unexpected and undesired way. However, it is my own choice about how my heart will respond. As I contemplate that long ago course change, I realize that it was a course correction. The circumstances caused me to do some serious and painful self-examination that allowed me to steer toward new dreams and visions. It was difficult for quite a while not to harbor resentment toward the other, but I knew that would cause my rudder to steer me in a direction I didn't want to follow. I realized that I could still choose a right heart and that is what has made the most difference.
"Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life." Proverbs 4:23 NLT
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
Tribute to a Life
Tom Hess was an eighth grade English teacher at the middle school where I work. He passed away from ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease, on December 14, 2010. The first time I met Tom was in 2002 at a "Meet the Teacher" night when my son was in the eighth grade. He told the parents that he had been inspired to become a teacher because he had a middle school teacher that had greatly impacted his life. In my mind had had said it was his eighth grade English teacher, but now I am not so sure. It impressed me as a parent that he had become a teacher not only because he loved his subject, but because he wanted to impact kids as he had been impacted. However, it wasn't until I became a coworker with Tom that I really began to understand the depth of his commitment to his students.
In my first year working in the library I learned about a new season: "Research Season." At that time of the school year many teachers bring their students to the library to work on projects. The most notable project is the eighth grade research project. Over six "research seasons" I spent many hours with Tom Hess and his students, during regular school hours as well as after school. By the end of my first research season I became convinced that no student of Tom's ever had a good reason to do poorly on their research project.
Tom expected, no, demanded, that each student do his or her personal best. (One year a coworker and I found a whip-cracking sound effect that we played for Tom during his library time. He got a chuckle out of that.) But he also gave them every opportunity to do their best. In addition to personal attention during class time, Tom liberally distributed priority library passes to any student who wanted one and spent almost every day after school with any student willing to work. I never saw Tom impatient with any student genuinely working their hardest. However, any student whose effort was less than their best was a prime candidate to receive what we came to call "the wrath of Hess". Most students understood that Tom's "wrath" was an expression of his concern and care for them and his desire to see them do their best. As a result they endured it and loved him all the more for it.
Tom was a fixture on the annual eighth grade trip to Washington, DC. The trip was something he felt was so important for students that he had been known to pay for some kids who couldn't afford to go. After Tom died, my husband and I were talking and he had what I thought was a great idea: Start a scholarship in Tom's memory to help students who can't afford to go on the trip. I recently went to another staff member to present this idea and was overwhelmed to find out that Tom himself had created such a fund before he passed away. I am still shaking my head at that. I guess I really shouldn't be surprised. He was that dedicated to students.
We have quality teachers who care about their students at our school. Tom Hess set the bar high for his students, for himself and for the rest of us who work at the school. Research seasons will come and go, but as the eighth grade projects begin, in the back of my memory I will be hearing a whip cracking and I will be smiling a sad smile as I remember Tom.
So why do I share all this with you? Because EVERY LIFE MATTERS. I did not realize how deeply Tom Hess's life had impacted mine until I began to contemplate and then face his loss. Your life matters, dear one, and you will never be able to comprehend the depth of your influence on others. We all want to be valued and appreciated, but the truth is that sometimes our value is not appreciated until our influence is no longer felt. So, please, dear one, continue to strive toward being the best you and loving as many people as you can. When all is said and done, those who have known you will be grateful that you became a part of their lives as they realize just how much their own life has benefited because of yours. YOUR LIFE REALLY DOES MATTER. Live it well.
In my first year working in the library I learned about a new season: "Research Season." At that time of the school year many teachers bring their students to the library to work on projects. The most notable project is the eighth grade research project. Over six "research seasons" I spent many hours with Tom Hess and his students, during regular school hours as well as after school. By the end of my first research season I became convinced that no student of Tom's ever had a good reason to do poorly on their research project.
Tom expected, no, demanded, that each student do his or her personal best. (One year a coworker and I found a whip-cracking sound effect that we played for Tom during his library time. He got a chuckle out of that.) But he also gave them every opportunity to do their best. In addition to personal attention during class time, Tom liberally distributed priority library passes to any student who wanted one and spent almost every day after school with any student willing to work. I never saw Tom impatient with any student genuinely working their hardest. However, any student whose effort was less than their best was a prime candidate to receive what we came to call "the wrath of Hess". Most students understood that Tom's "wrath" was an expression of his concern and care for them and his desire to see them do their best. As a result they endured it and loved him all the more for it.
Tom was a fixture on the annual eighth grade trip to Washington, DC. The trip was something he felt was so important for students that he had been known to pay for some kids who couldn't afford to go. After Tom died, my husband and I were talking and he had what I thought was a great idea: Start a scholarship in Tom's memory to help students who can't afford to go on the trip. I recently went to another staff member to present this idea and was overwhelmed to find out that Tom himself had created such a fund before he passed away. I am still shaking my head at that. I guess I really shouldn't be surprised. He was that dedicated to students.
We have quality teachers who care about their students at our school. Tom Hess set the bar high for his students, for himself and for the rest of us who work at the school. Research seasons will come and go, but as the eighth grade projects begin, in the back of my memory I will be hearing a whip cracking and I will be smiling a sad smile as I remember Tom.
So why do I share all this with you? Because EVERY LIFE MATTERS. I did not realize how deeply Tom Hess's life had impacted mine until I began to contemplate and then face his loss. Your life matters, dear one, and you will never be able to comprehend the depth of your influence on others. We all want to be valued and appreciated, but the truth is that sometimes our value is not appreciated until our influence is no longer felt. So, please, dear one, continue to strive toward being the best you and loving as many people as you can. When all is said and done, those who have known you will be grateful that you became a part of their lives as they realize just how much their own life has benefited because of yours. YOUR LIFE REALLY DOES MATTER. Live it well.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Tomorrow is Always Fresh
What is it about endings and beginnings that cause us to review, remember and re-prioritize? Whether it's a new year, a new job, a new home, or any other "new" in our lives, there is something about it that causes us to take stock of where we have been and where we'd like to go. There is something built in to each one of us that causes us to look back when it's time to look ahead.
In "Anne of Green Gables" Lucy Maud Montgomery gives us the wonderful quote : "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it." Perhaps we like "new" so much for that reason. No matter how hard we try to be "good" we can never get away from the fact that every day, every year, is full of mistakes. We have an innate sense of when we've done wrong. It's called a conscience. We all have regrets. Things we wish we hadn't done or said, as well as things we wish we had done or said. There is something in us that knows we can do better and that wants to do better. Perhaps the reason that celebrating the New Year has become such a large celebration over the centuries is that the changing of the calendar reminds us that "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it."
So, as I do every year, I am taking the last few days of December into the first few weeks of January to review, remember and re-prioritize. I look back on the year gone by and think about the major events that occurred, what's been lost, what's been gained. Each event is now part of my history and who I am. Each event has served to shape me in some way. Then I look ahead at the events that are already planned for the coming year. I think about who I am becoming and how I want to reach forward toward the best that I can be. There will be mistakes, but then there will be another "new" in my life to remind me that my tomorrow, and yours, is fresh with no mistakes and we get a chance to try again.
In "Anne of Green Gables" Lucy Maud Montgomery gives us the wonderful quote : "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it." Perhaps we like "new" so much for that reason. No matter how hard we try to be "good" we can never get away from the fact that every day, every year, is full of mistakes. We have an innate sense of when we've done wrong. It's called a conscience. We all have regrets. Things we wish we hadn't done or said, as well as things we wish we had done or said. There is something in us that knows we can do better and that wants to do better. Perhaps the reason that celebrating the New Year has become such a large celebration over the centuries is that the changing of the calendar reminds us that "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it."
So, as I do every year, I am taking the last few days of December into the first few weeks of January to review, remember and re-prioritize. I look back on the year gone by and think about the major events that occurred, what's been lost, what's been gained. Each event is now part of my history and who I am. Each event has served to shape me in some way. Then I look ahead at the events that are already planned for the coming year. I think about who I am becoming and how I want to reach forward toward the best that I can be. There will be mistakes, but then there will be another "new" in my life to remind me that my tomorrow, and yours, is fresh with no mistakes and we get a chance to try again.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Christmas Losses
I went to the same funeral home two nights in a row to pay respects to two different families this weekend. To say the very least, it has been an extremely difficult week for many, many people in our school community. We lost two very different people on the same day. One was a beloved and dedicated teacher who at last succumbed to ALS, Lou Gehrig's disease. The loss was not unexpected, but devastating, nonetheless. In his teaching career he impacted thousands of students and hundreds of colleagues.The other was a substitute teacher and very involved parent who died suddenly and unexpectedly. She had spent countless hours volunteering and giving of herself for the benefit of the young people in our schools. Many of the same adults and young people stood in long lines two nights in a row to express their condolences to the loved ones of these individuals whose loss will be felt by many in our community.
I have been thinking about these families and how the Christmas season will forever be associated with the loss of their loved one. I have been thinking about the many families whose experience has been similar. Something within us all cries out, "This is wrong! This isn't supposed to happen at Christmas!" We don't say it, but we do feel it, even if we aren't conscious of it. In the back of our minds we have this idyllic image of what the Christmas season is supposed to be like. The literature, movies and music associated with the season serve to cement the unconscious expectation that Christmas is supposed to be perfect. Perfect food, perfect gifts, perfect families. No tears, no disappointments, no losses. There is no room in this image of perfection for the realities we often face. Illnesses, job loss, the death of a loved one. None of these things fit how it's "supposed to be".
So, what do we do? How do we handle reality in the face of such unrealistic, but deeply rooted idealistic expectations? First, I think we have to give ourselves permission to mourn. When we expect things to be perfect we will often try to avoid expressing our negative emotions. Mourning and the Christmas season seem incompatible, but the reality is there are many who are mourning. It is appropriate to mourn when we have lost someone, or something, important and it's just as appropriate at Christmas as any other time.
Second, we need to give ourselves permission to enjoy the holiday. I know that seems contradictory. Often when we've experienced a loss it seems wrong for life to go on. We might feel disloyal to the one we've lost if we feel any joy. Enjoying what we can of the holiday is a testament to the reality that life does go on, and even though we have lost someone or something extremely valuable, the life we are living is just as valuable. We honor their memory by valuing this life that we have and living with hope. Because the truth is that Christmas is about hope.
Hope is really the greatest message of Christmas. Christmas is about God loving the world so much that He gave His son as a gift to all of us. That gift gives us reason to hope. Christmas reminds us that we are not alone. We are reminded that we have each other to be grateful for. Yes. But we are also reminded that God is there. Every Christmas carol is a reminder of this truth. Without God there really is no reason for Christmas. Without God there really is no reason for hope.
There is another reality that we don't like to acknowledge. We have all experienced loss and we often feel that loss more keenly during the Christmas season, even if that loss occurred long ago. It might be tempting to diminish our own sense of loss by comparing it to those whose loss is recent. I think we still need to give ourselves permission to mourn and permission to experience the joy of the holiday. Our loss is still real. Our life still does go on. Our reason for hope remains the same.
It's less than a week till Christmas now. I am feeling these losses deeper than I would have expected. So, I will mourn when I need to, but I will also rejoice when I need to. My prayer for you in this season is that you will fully experience the hope of Christmas regardless of the realities you may be facing. May you have a blessed Christmas, dear one. You have reason to mourn, reason to rejoice and, most of all, reason to hope.
I have been thinking about these families and how the Christmas season will forever be associated with the loss of their loved one. I have been thinking about the many families whose experience has been similar. Something within us all cries out, "This is wrong! This isn't supposed to happen at Christmas!" We don't say it, but we do feel it, even if we aren't conscious of it. In the back of our minds we have this idyllic image of what the Christmas season is supposed to be like. The literature, movies and music associated with the season serve to cement the unconscious expectation that Christmas is supposed to be perfect. Perfect food, perfect gifts, perfect families. No tears, no disappointments, no losses. There is no room in this image of perfection for the realities we often face. Illnesses, job loss, the death of a loved one. None of these things fit how it's "supposed to be".
So, what do we do? How do we handle reality in the face of such unrealistic, but deeply rooted idealistic expectations? First, I think we have to give ourselves permission to mourn. When we expect things to be perfect we will often try to avoid expressing our negative emotions. Mourning and the Christmas season seem incompatible, but the reality is there are many who are mourning. It is appropriate to mourn when we have lost someone, or something, important and it's just as appropriate at Christmas as any other time.
Second, we need to give ourselves permission to enjoy the holiday. I know that seems contradictory. Often when we've experienced a loss it seems wrong for life to go on. We might feel disloyal to the one we've lost if we feel any joy. Enjoying what we can of the holiday is a testament to the reality that life does go on, and even though we have lost someone or something extremely valuable, the life we are living is just as valuable. We honor their memory by valuing this life that we have and living with hope. Because the truth is that Christmas is about hope.
Hope is really the greatest message of Christmas. Christmas is about God loving the world so much that He gave His son as a gift to all of us. That gift gives us reason to hope. Christmas reminds us that we are not alone. We are reminded that we have each other to be grateful for. Yes. But we are also reminded that God is there. Every Christmas carol is a reminder of this truth. Without God there really is no reason for Christmas. Without God there really is no reason for hope.
There is another reality that we don't like to acknowledge. We have all experienced loss and we often feel that loss more keenly during the Christmas season, even if that loss occurred long ago. It might be tempting to diminish our own sense of loss by comparing it to those whose loss is recent. I think we still need to give ourselves permission to mourn and permission to experience the joy of the holiday. Our loss is still real. Our life still does go on. Our reason for hope remains the same.
It's less than a week till Christmas now. I am feeling these losses deeper than I would have expected. So, I will mourn when I need to, but I will also rejoice when I need to. My prayer for you in this season is that you will fully experience the hope of Christmas regardless of the realities you may be facing. May you have a blessed Christmas, dear one. You have reason to mourn, reason to rejoice and, most of all, reason to hope.
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Holiday Unstressed
Maybe it's that I am maturing or that my kids are getting older, but I just haven't felt that stressed by the holidays the past few years. There are still tasks to be completed, but I have pared down to what is most important to me and those I love. But I don't think it's primarily the simplification of my to-do list that has "unstressed" me.Stress comes from within as well as from without. We often can't control the situations that cause us stress. When a loved one is injured or seriously ill, there is little we can do to control the situation. All we can do at a time like that is find ways to manage the stress. In the holiday season, however, there are many factors we can take control of, like the number of cards we choose to send or the number of gifts we choose to buy and how much money we choose to spend. We can limit the number of activities celebrating the season that we get involved in as well. Have I done any of those things? Yes, I have. In fact, I think I have done all of those things, but I still don't believe that is the reason that I have become "unstressed".
So, what is it, then? I remember a few years ago feeling overwhelmed by the month of December. I and my family were involved in a number of activities that couldn't be pared down. Even with my list made and a number of items purchased I still wondered how I would be able to get it all done. As I reviewed everything I had to do, I just couldn't see how I could go to work and take care of my family and do everything that I normally had to do as well as the various holiday activities and preparations. As I came to the conclusion that everything on my to-do list was necessary and couldn't be changed, I realized that only one thing could be changed: Me. What had to change was my attitude. I had to accept my to-do's as they were and believe that somehow the strength would be there to get it done. So, I took a deep breath and chose not to let myself continue in a state of being overwhelmed, and proceeded through the month of December.When I came to the end of that Christmas and holiday season I was relieved. Everything had been accomplished without a constant feeling of stress, yet I also knew that I never wanted the season to be that full of busyness again. The following year a few activities were missing from my to-do list and you know what? I didn't miss them.
Our family has always tried to do things to "keep Christ in Christmas", to remind us of the real reason we celebrate this joyful, hectic season. I guess I have realized that those activities alone can't keep my heart centered. There are choices I have to make about how I approach the necessary preparations. They have become less important in themselves. I guess what has really happened is that I have begun to see the whole season as a celebration, rather than hectic preparations leading up to one special day. Making my list of gifts to purchase has become part of the celebration, as has decorating the house (which that one year was an overwhelming duty) or purchasing and wrapping the gifts. Yes, I am doing less and enjoying it more, but I am also enjoying more because accepting an unchangeable to-do list forced me to accept the extra activity as part of the season. In doing that, I have learned to enjoy the whole season rather than just the relief of checking off the items on my to-do list.
So, let me encourage you: Enjoy all of it as much as possible. Eliminate what you can. If you can't eliminate it, then choose to enjoy it as a part of the celebration. Enjoyment is definitely a stress-reliever!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Unexpected Love
I remember the exact moment, the exact image, that took my breath and heart away. We were at Disney World of all places, and my heart was immediately captured. I'm not talking about a person, but bear with me as I try to communicate this experience of unexpected love.
It was several years ago when Tom and I were celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary. On our honeymoon my new husband had taken me "around the world" at Epcot, taking a photograph of me in each "country". We had returned to Disney to recreate that fun memory. In an unexpected place I experienced a life-transforming moment. I fell in love with China. Yes, the country of China.
It was just another stop on our trip around the world so we visited the "China in 360" attraction. We had probably visited it on our honeymoon, but I have no recollection of that visit. This visit, however is etched in my memory. In a round movie theater with no seats, only bars to lean on, we were viewing a film that gave you the sense of standing on the Great Wall, seeing everything in front, behind and around you or traveling on boat on a river, or walking on the streets of Shanghai. I was enchanted, but then we were flying above beautiful mountains, rivers and hillsides unlike any I had ever seen. That was the moment my heart overflowed. I was unexpectedly arrested by the beauty of a country that until that moment was just a large shape on a map. After that moment, I felt myself among the people, immersed in the music, the grace, the beauty of an unfamiliar culture. I didn't want the film to end. When it did come to an end, my emotions didn't. My feelings were so strong I couldn't speak. I left the theater knowing that some day I HAD to go to China.
Amazingly enough, later that same year my husband was invited to go on a trip to China . We were both excited at the prospect and my first question was "Can I go?" The answer was yes, but I would have to pay (his expenses were covered by the nature of the trip.) It was hard to give up, but I knew without a doubt that, for a variety of reasons, this was not the time for me to go. But deep within I knew that I knew that somehow another opportunity would come at the right time. So, I learned as much as I could about the places he was visiting and drank in the pictures he took with no jealousy. It helped that he went in January and it was freezing cold! I didn't envy that part of his trip!
Just recently it happened! Another opportunity to go to China! Excitement about the possibility quickly became an inexplicable, painful longing. I went to my husband and as close as I could without begging asked if we could go. No, that's not really it. I told him, with eyes overflowing, "I have to go to China."
So, next spring we are going to China. My heart still swells at the prospect, for reasons I can't explain. But I AM going and somehow I know that once will just not be near enough. This unexpected love will not be satisfied with one visit. This will be the first for me, second for Tom, with who knows how many to come. Only God knows what part China plays in my future. I know this kind of love doesn't happen without a reason. I just can't tell you what that reason is yet. I can only tell you that it has unexpectedly come... to stay.
It was several years ago when Tom and I were celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary. On our honeymoon my new husband had taken me "around the world" at Epcot, taking a photograph of me in each "country". We had returned to Disney to recreate that fun memory. In an unexpected place I experienced a life-transforming moment. I fell in love with China. Yes, the country of China.
It was just another stop on our trip around the world so we visited the "China in 360" attraction. We had probably visited it on our honeymoon, but I have no recollection of that visit. This visit, however is etched in my memory. In a round movie theater with no seats, only bars to lean on, we were viewing a film that gave you the sense of standing on the Great Wall, seeing everything in front, behind and around you or traveling on boat on a river, or walking on the streets of Shanghai. I was enchanted, but then we were flying above beautiful mountains, rivers and hillsides unlike any I had ever seen. That was the moment my heart overflowed. I was unexpectedly arrested by the beauty of a country that until that moment was just a large shape on a map. After that moment, I felt myself among the people, immersed in the music, the grace, the beauty of an unfamiliar culture. I didn't want the film to end. When it did come to an end, my emotions didn't. My feelings were so strong I couldn't speak. I left the theater knowing that some day I HAD to go to China.
Amazingly enough, later that same year my husband was invited to go on a trip to China . We were both excited at the prospect and my first question was "Can I go?" The answer was yes, but I would have to pay (his expenses were covered by the nature of the trip.) It was hard to give up, but I knew without a doubt that, for a variety of reasons, this was not the time for me to go. But deep within I knew that I knew that somehow another opportunity would come at the right time. So, I learned as much as I could about the places he was visiting and drank in the pictures he took with no jealousy. It helped that he went in January and it was freezing cold! I didn't envy that part of his trip!
Just recently it happened! Another opportunity to go to China! Excitement about the possibility quickly became an inexplicable, painful longing. I went to my husband and as close as I could without begging asked if we could go. No, that's not really it. I told him, with eyes overflowing, "I have to go to China."
So, next spring we are going to China. My heart still swells at the prospect, for reasons I can't explain. But I AM going and somehow I know that once will just not be near enough. This unexpected love will not be satisfied with one visit. This will be the first for me, second for Tom, with who knows how many to come. Only God knows what part China plays in my future. I know this kind of love doesn't happen without a reason. I just can't tell you what that reason is yet. I can only tell you that it has unexpectedly come... to stay.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Mistakes and Mishaps
Doesn't it bug you when you make little mistakes? No? Well, it bugs me. I recently went for a haircut. I have been looking at photos at the hair dresser's for years trying to find something that is both "new" and "me" at the same time. I showed a photo to the stylist and talked about my thoughts on what I might like to do with my hair. Non-committal, as usual. On the way home I realized that I had mistakenly identified Keira Knightly as Winona Rider in the pic. No biggie, right? I got that squirmy feeling inside at having made a silly mistake. So, what's the big deal? I found that one easier to shake off than others, but I still had a few moments of discomfort at the realization. Maybe I would have felt better if I blamed someone else for my mistake... Why do they use photos of celebrities any way? Who really knows all those people? ...Nope, doesn't work. Still my mistake.
So, maybe you are okay with your own mistakes, but get really peeved at the mistakes of others that affect you. Maybe you'll identify with this one. My daughter recently applied to be a part of an educational travel group. First, she got a call saying she was accepted. Yippee! Later that night we got another call saying the first call was premature. What? Eventually, we heard that she was not accepted to the program "at this time". But the first mistake precipitated a number of positive communications from the national office until the withdrawal went through their whole system. She has handled the whole thing pretty well, but I became a bit annoyed. What if my daughter had been heart-broken? What would all this see-sawing do to her then? I was polite and understanding in my phone contacts to clear things up, but I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to have her sign up with this organization again if she had another opportunity.
Yes, we all make mistakes. Not one of us is perfect. We know this, but we don't really practice it, do we? Somehow, we still expect perfection of ourselves and others. Why is that? Honestly, I think we were created for perfection, but that perfection is not within our grasp on this earth. We are continually disappointed. "What a tease!", you may think. Well...yes, I think it is meant to be a tease. If perfection were available in this life why would we hope for anything else? If perfection is only available in the life to come, then that desire for perfection makes sense, and our constant disappointment on earth becomes a reminder of our need to hope for something better. For the many who don't believe in a life to come those constant disappointments can be life-shattering and cause them to lose hope completely.
So, I am reminding myself that this is not all there is. Those little mistakes don't really matter in the big scheme of things, not just my own mistakes, but the mistakes of others. In the long run, they are reminders that I am just passing through, making the most of this journey, on the way to what really matters. Perfection really does exist, it's just out of my reach... for now.
So, maybe you are okay with your own mistakes, but get really peeved at the mistakes of others that affect you. Maybe you'll identify with this one. My daughter recently applied to be a part of an educational travel group. First, she got a call saying she was accepted. Yippee! Later that night we got another call saying the first call was premature. What? Eventually, we heard that she was not accepted to the program "at this time". But the first mistake precipitated a number of positive communications from the national office until the withdrawal went through their whole system. She has handled the whole thing pretty well, but I became a bit annoyed. What if my daughter had been heart-broken? What would all this see-sawing do to her then? I was polite and understanding in my phone contacts to clear things up, but I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to have her sign up with this organization again if she had another opportunity.
Yes, we all make mistakes. Not one of us is perfect. We know this, but we don't really practice it, do we? Somehow, we still expect perfection of ourselves and others. Why is that? Honestly, I think we were created for perfection, but that perfection is not within our grasp on this earth. We are continually disappointed. "What a tease!", you may think. Well...yes, I think it is meant to be a tease. If perfection were available in this life why would we hope for anything else? If perfection is only available in the life to come, then that desire for perfection makes sense, and our constant disappointment on earth becomes a reminder of our need to hope for something better. For the many who don't believe in a life to come those constant disappointments can be life-shattering and cause them to lose hope completely.
So, I am reminding myself that this is not all there is. Those little mistakes don't really matter in the big scheme of things, not just my own mistakes, but the mistakes of others. In the long run, they are reminders that I am just passing through, making the most of this journey, on the way to what really matters. Perfection really does exist, it's just out of my reach... for now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)