Footprints in the Sand

When I attempt to describe my walk with God, I like to refer to the famous poem by Mary Stevenson known as “Footprints in the Sand” – which, if you are not familiar, goes like this:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.

This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,

“You promised me Lord, that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”

The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

Beautiful, right!? I know. I love it. Graphically, I would represent this journey using the following diagram:

And yet, to extend this beautiful metaphor, my journey with God might often look a bit more like this:

The progress of my journey, more often than not, looks more like God pulling me along to destinations that, despite their benefit, look threatening and uncomfortable. I’m not proud of it – I would much rather have an unhesitating, death-grip kind of faith. But I don’t – sometimes, I just need to be dragged along.
It’s a bit like our first trip to Knott’s Berry Farm, an amusement park in Southern California. Our son, then perhaps 12 years old, had a pronounced fear of roller coasters – even small, slow rides were unappealing to him. This puzzled us greatly, as newish parents, who thought that all kids must, by nature, love and crave thrilling rides.
He just needs some coaxing, we thought. He just doesn’t know how fun it will be!
And that is what we proceeded to do. We knew that if he would only give it a try, he would be a convert. He would enjoy himself, and we would not feel like we had wasted an expensive day at a theme park in vain! We persisted until he, either convinced or exhausted by our prodding, finally gave in. He would ride The Jaguar with his dad, albeit reluctantly and with much anxiety.
Our wait in line involved a continued dialogue which included encouragement, pleading, commanding, threatening, and begging. As a father, I was surprised at the range of emotion that such a seemingly benign decision could evoke. While anger was, admittedly, among the assortment that I felt, my motivation for pushing my son into this activity was love. I wanted him to experience the thrill and pleasure of an amazing ride – the twists and turns, the wind, the rush. And I was committed to persuading him to do it – drag his feet though he might.
I will conclude this anecdote by reporting that he did take the ride, and then proceeded, for the remainder of the day, to repeat the experience eight more times. We were elated! His surprise at enjoying The Jaguar surpassed our own as he requested, over and over again, to go back on the ride. It was the most thrilling experience of his young life.
I think this is how our journey with God can be. God has great things for us, that he wants for us to do. He knows what an incredible ride it will be if we would only trust him and his plan. But we resist. We drag our feet in reluctance or fear or laziness. When we finally acquiesce – when we give in to his coaxing – we are astonished to find that his plan for us was so much better than what we thought it could possibly be.
God has good plans for each of us. They will stretch and push us. We will have to trust Him. But the result is better than we can imagine.
Can you trust a God that has good plans for you? Even in your fear and doubt, God will patiently guide and maybe even drag you toward that which will benefit you. And His joy will surpass yours when you realize how wonderful and amazing it is to walk in his will for you.

A Year Out . . .

We are at the end of our first year at RVA. Right now is “Dead Week”, a time at the end of the year that, by its name, might seem superfluous – final exams are over, no new instruction is planned, just hanging out until graduation. It’s actually quite a welcome reprieve for both students and staff alike.

The end of school here, like in the typical high school, involves major transitions in many lives. Not only are seniors graduating – which in itself is huge, as most of them will be moving to the U.S. or Europe to attend college, far from their familiar community – but everything on campus enters a state of flux. Some students and staff members will be leaving on home assignment or furlough, others permanently. Many will, as they anticipate the next school year (in seven weeks!) will also be anticipating moves to new dorms, new dorm parents, new dorm brothers or sisters and new classmates. Some to new countries. Uncertainty is often a constant companion in the life of a missionary kid. So departing RVA at the end of the year can be a bittersweet event.

In our own lives here as teachers, we have had the supreme honor and pleasure of living and sharing with many amazing people. Of my seventeen years of teaching, I must confess this one to be my most deeply gratifying, as I have had such a distinct awareness of God’s direct influence. Never in my life have I had such a tangible sense of God’s leading and blessing. My English classes have been rich and rewarding, allowing students and me to engage in active, stimulating discussions about literature and to generate outstanding written work. Truth be told, RVA is a teacher’s dream! But more importantly, I have been deeply affected by students’ lives. I have developed profoundly significant friendships with them that have changed me for the better. I hope that the inverse is true as well.

This weekend, we held our last Sunday school class – 12 ninth grade girls and boys with whom we have spent the last two terms studying God’s Word. After a splendid breakfast (a combined cooking effort!), we sat in our living room and shared our best experiences of the year and our hopes for the next one. I was touched by the sincere and transparent words of our kids who were thankful for the ways in which God had been working in them. I am so blessed to hear these young people expressing their love and need for God. It was a tearful morning.

Then we went to church – Senior Sunday – which was conducted entirely by senior students. From the worship to the speakers, RVA seniors gave testimony to the power that comes of faith in Jesus and ofthe ways that RVA has influenced their lives toward living within God’s will.

We are looking forward to next year (a mere six weeks away for us!), when we begin our new assignment as dorm parents. We will be host to 22 junior boys! We are excited, and a little apprehensive, as we take on a whole new role in the lives of many young men. This, in addition to our continuing jobs teaching and working in guidance, will keep us busy!

This year has been wonderful, difficult, joyful, sad, triumphant – a whole world of emotion. I am very thankful for God’s leading, not only in our lives, but in the lives of those who have given support to our efforts – in prayer, with delightful packages, with finances, with words of encouragement. It has made this challenging year one full of joy and light! Thank you to all who have been a part of this wild journey!!

A Long-Awaited Update!

It seems that much time has passed since I wrote here last. I would love to say it’s just because I have been so incredibly busy. But, while this is true, I have certainly had time and opportunity to write a little update to you. It is just that, truthfully, life here is much like it is at home. The day-in, day-out activity of living is what occupies most of our time – even in Africa -  and frankly, just doesn’t seem that interesting! In fact, most of the pictures I have included in past blogs have been from vacation times and trips to animal reserves and parks. I am not even sure we are allowed to show pictures of our students!

But an update is due – overdue – actually.

We are amazed to realize that we have been here 11 months now and are approaching the end of our first school year at RVA! It has gone by rapidly! We have come such a long way in that time.

By now we have developed good relationships with students and staff alike. We have worked, played, worked, and worshipped alongside each other.

Our most recent activity has been in assisting in the sophomore restaurant – an annual event that places all involved in the extreme periphery around their comfort zone. While we are not sponsors for the sophomore class, we are parents, and as such, had the opportunity to participate in this production. What a ride. Perhaps the most challenging and perplexing event of this school year, which is saying a lot considering the first thing I did when I arrived here in August was to stab myself with a steak knife!

Imagine a group of 5 adults managing about 70 fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds with no restaurant (or actual work) experience! Decorating, cooking, serving, entertaining, set-up and break-down (pun intended), and of course everyone’s favorite, cleanup. We felt like we were trying to keep our sandcastle from being dissolved by the incoming tide. Nonetheless, we were grateful for the chance to get to know more of Jade’s classmates – a gracious bunch of young people. We did take a few bruises along the way, however, and are still recovering from that tumultuous evening. This was in addition to teaching two guitar classes at the Titchie (elementary) fine arts night, administrating the ACT test, practicing for and participating in worship, teaching Sunday school, working in the nursery and making cookies for a baby shower!

So we arrive at Monday again, exhausted, and actually feeling as though the slow burn of the weekday work is restful compared with the weekends, which often seem filled to overflowing with frenetic activity and busyness. Don’t misunderstand – it’s all good stuff. But, man it is a lot! A “break-neck train wreck” as I’ve heard such things described.

So that, we have learned, is how it works here at RVA – go, go, go . . . rest. Repeat.

That is the culture to which we are adjusting. We do love it here, truly. But the truth is, life here is still life – work and sleep, good and bad. Thanks for looking in on it!

Against whom do we compete?

Chapel at RVA is a daily event, with all 500+ students attending between 6th and 7th period, giving them an opportunity to listen to devotional thoughts from a variety of staff members throughout the week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are required attendance chapel meetings; Tuesday and Thursday are optional praise and prayer meetings respectively. As you can probably imagine, some enjoy, while others tolerate. Either way, kids are getting ample opportunity to hear different voices as the staff share life experiences and challenges with the students. Our hope in this is that through our shared experiences, we can offer guidance, hope, and encouragement to our students. What follows is a transcript of my recent chapel presentation, which was inspired by a desire to encourage encouragement and unity among them:

Some people love competition. Competition or more accurately, victory in competition, is the source of identity and pride that keeps them going. Their emotions rise and fall on the success or failure of their favorite athletic teams. Success in their academic careers consists not only of doing well, but of doing better than their peers. They are driven by the victory, or the promise of success that it brings.

Not me. I am kind of a sore loser. I hate competitive activities. Competition, I’ve noticed, brings out an ugly side in me that I am, frankly, disgusted by. It’s not so much because I am not good at competitive things (which is true), or that I imagine myself better than I actually am (which is probably also true), or even that when I compete and fail, I feel miserable and base too much of my self-worth in that failure (also, sadly, true). It’s really more because of the spirit that often accompanies competition. Divisiveness. Disunity.

I think that even as a kid, something about competition deeply troubled me. I simply didn’t belong in a competitive environment. I wasn’t born with the sports gene – I possessed no interest, nor any skill, that could benefit me in the athletic arena. While I did wrestle in high school, it wasn’t for any love of the competition – in fact, I came close to barfing before every meet (and not because I was trying to make weight!). Oh, I worked hard, and I was proud of being a wrestler in the great state of Wisconsin, where babies don’t wear onesies, but rather, wrestling singlets. I tried to see myself as a good wrestler, but the fact was, when I entered the mat against some of the incredible athletes I had to face with my 105-pound self, I just didn’t have what it took. And too much of my identity was wrapped up in that truth for me to handle.

I remember a meet during my freshmen year against Arcadia - a rival high school known for its champion wrestlers. Ross Potzner, a 105-pound ball of muscle and speed, was the previous year’s state champion in his weight class. Unlike most of my teammates, I had not grown up wrestling, but was a literal newbie. I was strong and fast, but I had much too little experience as a wrestler to have it benefit me much. Potzner knew he could pin me in moments, but he wasn’t going for the pin. He was working his stats – he wanted to be known and recorded as the “take-down king.”

Try to visualize this meeting. Potzner, confident and bent on personal glory for his skill in take-downs, and me, my third or fourth match ever. Let me tell you, guys on my team and in my weight class, who had been wrestling for years, had come down with mysterious illnesses that week to avoid this match. And so it began with the referee’s whistle.

It was like catch-and-release – Potzner would take me down, then he’d let me up. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. It was infuriating and humiliating.

Finally, I’d had enough. At the top of my voice, bracing myself by holding the backs of my legs (a technique I acquired in youthful disagreements with my brother), I bellowed, to Potzner’s stunned surprise, “If you’re gonna do it, do it!” And this in front of a gymnasium full of spectators. Let’s face it – I was alone in that room, facing utter humiliation and torment, with no hope at all of victory. Bad sportsmanship? Probably, but I was desperate!

Within another minute, it was over. I guess ole Ross decided to get his take-down record on some other poor soul. He pinned me and I gratefully walked off the mat to my team benches. Honestly, I was so embarrassed at my lack of self-control, at my outburst, I wanted to go straight to the locker room rather than face my teammates and the gathered crowd in the stands. I braced myself for the ridicule I was certain to receive from my teammates and my coaches.

But to my great surprise and relief, I was greeted not by stunned stares and snickers and criticism, but by warm and generous encouragement. My team embraced me and lifted me up – despite my awkward moment of exasperation and despair. They knew where my heart was. They felt it too. In that moment of what I felt was my utter defeat, my team honored and welcomed me into their protective fold, complimented me on lasting as long as I did, talked smack about Potzner for me. You know, I’ll bet Potzner remembers that time, years ago, when this freshman kid screamed at him on the mat!

So why do I tell you this story? To illustrate an important biblical principle as it applies to the Christian life.

Competition should unite, not divide. A picture of Christian community is reflected in the response of my teammates when I so awkwardly fell. We should do this for each other as Christian brothers and sisters – as 1 Thessalonians 5:10-12 describes:

¹⁰ He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. ¹¹ Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing.

And Hebrews 3:12-14 further elaborates:

¹² See to it, brothers and sisters, that none of you has a sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God. ¹³ But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today,” so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. ¹⁴ We have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original conviction firmly to the very end.

And Hebrews 10: 24-25:

²³ Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. ²⁴ And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, ²⁵ not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching.

Divisiveness is a spirit that says, “I am better than you.” It is a spirit that says, “I deserve success more than you do.”

Unity says, “We are in this together.”

How many of you feel like I did, standing on that mat, alone against seemingly impossible issues? Facing unbearable humiliation and failure?

Who of you will stand with that person – encouraging him or her, lifting up and embracing, strengthening.

We are in this together. We face a formidable adversary who hates us as much as he hates God himself. As God’s Creation, his beloved, we are the enemy’s prime target. And yet, it is written that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the church.

So don’t misunderstand – nothing is wrong with competition. Healthy competition can grow character and built stronger people.

But a right perspective is essential. Christian brothers and sisters are not in competition with each other. We compete together to receive the crown of honor that waits at the finish line.

⁷ For none of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. ⁸ If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. (Romans 14:7-9, NIV)