When you walk into my room

When you walk into my dorm room, you will see bookshelves filled with textbooks entitled “Elementary and Middle School Mathematics,” “Teaching Exceptional and Diverse Children,” “The Craft of Christian Teaching,” “Tools for Teaching,” and other such “teachery” titles.  You will also see several children’s books scattered around the room.  Chances are you will probably see my “Corban Education Work Sample Guidebook” open on my desk.  You will find a drawer filled with Crayola products.  And if you open up my wardrobe, you will find a bucket of colorful “centimeter cubes,” used for teaching math. 

When you walk into my room, it should take a mere few seconds to determine what my major is: elementary education.  I would assume that upon walking into any other education major’s room, you would find similar items leading you to the same quick conclusion about their major of choice.  If I were to walk into a health science major’s room, I would probably find books about anatomy, physics, and chemistry.  They might have lab goggles hanging on the wall.  And they probably have an intimidating calculator sitting on their desk alongside intimidating looking equations. 

I would hope that if someone walks into my life, they would quickly see where my faith is.  Is the way I live, the things I say, and the way I build relationships indicative of the main purpose of my life?  In other words, would someone who does not know me be able to see I have dedicated my life to Christ by simply observing the way I live?

“By their fruits you will recognize them.  Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?”  (Matthew 7:16)

The fruits in our life declare that which is most important to us.  Do your fruits point to God, or do they point to something else?  Like the items in my room point directly to my major, I hope my life points directly to my Creator. 

A four-inch blade stuck in your head

I have a television in my dorm room that gets about 15 stations (5 of which are televangelists).  The main purpose of this television is for movie watching and catching a few minutes of the news as I get ready for my day or get ready for bed.  Last night I happened to watch as a fairly shocking news story graced my television screen. 

The news story was about a man who was stabbed by a knife during a burglary.  He walked away from the event with a few bruises, and (what he thought was) a minor stab wound in the back of his head.  Over the next four years (yes, FOUR years), this man suffered from headaches.  When he finally went to the doctor to get these headaches checked out, the doctor did a routine x-ray and found a four-inch blade stuck in his head. 

The fact that this man did not suffer from more severe ailments and that he did not even realize the severity of the stab that was taken at the back of his head is truly a miracle.  Can you image having a four-inch piece of metal jammed in your head and not even knowing about it?!  What a shock to finally find out.

I have some minor issues in my life.  You know what I’m talking about- those little anxieties that seem to pop up on occasion, or those sinful desires that sneak in every once in a while.  After watching this news story, I began to wonder if there is a bigger, more significant reason why I have these problems.  There were no obvious signs of this man’s problem (aka: the blade jammed in his head).  Similarly, there may not be any obvious signs about the problems in our own lives.  Sometimes we just get spiritual “headaches.”

But are those “headaches” actually the result of something more like a four-inch blade in our spiritual lives?  If you are experiencing some chronic spiritual ailments, maybe it’s time to take a trip to God for one of those routine check-ups.  Let God search your life for a possible dagger. 

“Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts” (Psalm 139:23).

Let God search you and test you.  Let him remove that dagger.  

Left with a barren orchid

I love flowers.  I love receiving flowers, putting them in a vase, placing them on my desk, and smiling every time I see them.  They bring me joy.  So what else would my sister bring me on my birthday but flowers?  She has bought me flowers on my birthday for as long as I can remember and this past year, she even bought me a living orchid.  It was stunning.  At one point and there were over 30 flowers and buds on the branches.  I was careful to follow the instructions that came with the orchid (place by a northern facing window, water every 7-10 days, don’t overwater, etc.) to prolong the life of this beloved birthday present.

I loved my orchid.  I loved seeing it on my desk everyday.  I loved knowing Sherry had thought about what I would like to have sitting on my desk while I worked on lesson plans, read books about “exceptional and diverse students,” and wrote papers about my philosophy of education. 

Somewhere in the chaos of packing my bags to go home for Christmas, I forgot about my orchid.  I did not take my orchid home, so it sat on my desk waterless for nearly a month. 

Upon arriving back at school, I saw my orchid and panicked.  Surrounding the pot and scattered on my desk were sad white flowers and buds.  I quickly watered my plant and tried to revive it during the ensuing days back at school.  It was a futile effort.  Slowly but surely, the remaining buds fell off the branches and I was left with a barren orchid. 

The orchid now sits on my desk with sad, brown, wilted branches.  It no longer brings me joy like it used to.  In fact, it makes me a little sad.  I am sad I failed to give it the attention and nurturing it needed to survive. 

I decided to do some research on how to bring my orchid back from the dead and discovered that I must cut off the dead branches.  They no longer bear me joyful white flowers, but only hang there with a sense of hopelessness.  According to what I found on google, by cutting off the dead braches, the orchid will use its energy and the nutrients it draws up to produce a new branch which (in time) will bring me flowers again.

Sometimes there are things in our lives that start by bringing us joy.  These can be hobbies, relationships, lifestyles, or other supposedly “good” things.  But sometimes these things turn from bringing us fruit in our lives to becoming a life-sucking branch. 

As hard as it is to face, sometimes we just need to cut off the branches that have stopped bearing us white flowers.  “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful” (John 15:1-2).

Let’s be honest here, sometimes cutting off those branches that used to seem so good can be extremely painful.  It took me a couple minutes to muster up the courage to cut off the dead, brown branches of my orchid.  How much more courage will it take to see the “branches” in my life cut off?  Even though these metaphorical dead braches hang in my life with the same sense of hopelessness that my orchid has, I hesitate to see them go.  The best thing we can do is to realize the benefit that will come from pruning.  By pruning away what has become unfruitful, we are given more strength to bear fruit where we can. 

When God prunes you, do not become bitter or resentful, but embrace what He has in store for the new life it will bring.

“He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11).  

We work better when we work together

This week was full of encouraging words, hugs, popcorn with M&Ms, midnight Shari’s runs, notes in my mailbox, late night chats, and laughter.  Would you believe me if I said it was a terrible week?  Probably not.  But in reality, this past week was one of those difficult weeks we get thrown our way every once in a while.  It was filled with stress, tears, struggles, worries, and anxiety.

Without the first list of encouraging things, I doubt I would have been able to make it through like I have. 

Life is full of those things in the second list (stress, worries, etc).  But what is it that gets us through?  I believe it’s called the Body of Christ.  I think I have gained a better understanding about the Body of Christ in the midst of this week.

As the Body of Christ, we all fulfill different roles.  In this past week, I have seen countless people in my life step up and perform their role without me having to say or ask anything of them. 

I never had to ask for encouragement, but I was flooded in it.  I never had to ask for a single hug, but I was surrounded in them.  I never had to ask for prayer, but I was lifted up in it.  I never had to ask for the box of tissues, but it was continually passed to me in the moments I needed it. 

So to all of you who have made this week the most encouraging week I have probably ever had, thank you.  What you have all done has meant the world to me.  This is what the Body of Christ is supposed to look like. 

Our physical bodies do not need to be told how to pump blood, or blink our eyes.  Taking a step is second nature and requires no thought.  In the same way, a functioning Body of Christ acts without having to “think.”  This is exactly what my friends and family have shown me.

All the parts of our physical bodies take on different roles in order for all things to function properly.  In the same way, the Body of Christ is filled with people of varying gifts to help support the Body.  This is exactly what my friends and family have shown me.

This week I have seen friends with the gift on encouragement (my mailbox has literally been stuffed with encouragement cards, chocolate, and uplifting Bible verses); I have seen friends with the gift of understanding who have offered me hugs, space, and company at just the right moments; I have seen friends with the gift of prayer who have been praying for me throughout the week and those prayers have been felt; I have seen friends with the gift of empathy who have cried right alongside of me; I have seen friends with the gift of humor who have made me laugh when I didn’t think I wanted to laugh. 

We are promised that “the LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).  I always imagined this promise being fulfilled in an intangible way.  When life gets us down, I figured God would just provide comfort for our hearts and call it good.  But this is not the case.  God is also close to us in a tangible way during those times of life that are difficult through the working of His Body. 

“There should be no division in the body, but its parts should have equal concern for each other.  If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it” (1 Corinthians 12:25-26). 

Thank you for being concerned.  Thank you for feeling the pain with me.  Thank you for functioning without having to think.  Thank you for sharing your gift with me.  We work better when we work together.