He will stay in with me at recess

One of my favorite classroom management strategies is called “Love and Logic.”  Essentially, you give students choices rather than forcing them to do something.  Here are some potential Love and Logic phrases that might come out of my mouth on a typical school day:

 “Well, you can either work on this assignment now, or you can work on it during our class party this afternoon.”

“That’s a bummer that you chose to do that.”

“How are we going to make a better choice next time?”

“I understand that you are feeling frustrated, but do you think that attitude is helping you right now?”

“I am sad you’re making that choice.”

“I’m not the one keeping you in from recess today, it is your own choices that keep you in.”

“I will give you 30 more seconds to be upset, and then you can either get back to working, or we can talk about this with your parents.”

You get the point, right?  As a teacher, I like to give my students choices.  I want them to “own” their own choices and actions.  I have found this method has so many benefits: it does not make the student feel inferior, it gives students the power to make their own choices, it helps students learn to live with the consequences of their actions, and it keeps me from being the “bad guy.”

It seems like God likes using Love and Logic too.  (Which makes sense, seeing as he is the greatest teacher ever.)  God likes to leave things open ended for me; sometimes people call it “free will.”  I like to call it “Jill-freaks-out-because-God-won’t-tell-her-exactly-what-to-do.”  Anyone who has lived with me is probably well aware that I am indecisive.  I hate making choices because I hate that I don’t know the outcome.  It’s come to the point where I can only buy one kind of cereal at a time or else I will spend a good 5 or more minutes trying to figure out which one to have for breakfast… and that is time I do not have to waste in the mornings. 

I’m heading into a time of my life that involves a lot of decision-making.  I’m graduating from college.  I have to decide what I actually want to do with my life.  Sure, I want to be a teacher, but where?  Should I settle for being a substitute or should I keep searching for a full-time position?  Should I stay here in Oregon, or should I go home to Washington?  Do I do the “unthinkable” and move back in with Mom and Dad?  Do I take time off to travel?  Do I go on a mission trip?  Do I find an apartment for myself or do I try to cut the bills by living with friends? 

I DON’T KNOW!  I don’t want to make any more decisions. 

I’m sure God looks down and smiles at my while I struggle through the painful process of decision-making in a very similar way that I watch my own students contemplate the benefits of doing their math work “now or later.”  For the moment, it seems as if my sweet students hate me because I have suddenly made them accountable for their own actions: they choose and they deal with what comes from that choice. 

I wouldn’t say that I “hate” God for making me choose.  In fact, it is a blessing that he gives me the choice.  I can choose anything and God will go with me.  There is not one choice I could make that God would throw in the towel and say “forget it, she chose the wrong path.”  If I have a student who chooses to goof off during math time and therefore “chooses” to stay in at recess, I stay with them.  I forgo lunch in the staff room to spend my lunch in the class, prodding them through their fraction worksheet. 

And so it is with God.  If I choose it, He will (metaphorically) stay in at recess with me.  So what’s really to worry about?  The best I can do is follow what I know is “right,” learn from the mistakes that I have made, and trust that God will go with me.  

Has life got you in a lampshade?

My dog, Zoe, is currently wearing a lampshade on her head.  You know- those plastic cone things dogs have to wear so they can’t lick, bite, scratch, and whatever else. 

Zoe got “fixed” last week.  Unbenounced to her, she was taken to the vet, cut open, “fixed,” sewed up, and sent home not knowing what had just happened.  Within a day or two, one of the stitches came undone, got infected, and Zoe was taken back to the vet.  This time she came back with orders to wear the lampshade.  Throughout this process, Zoe has been forced to sit still (no jumping, running, playing, fetching, etc.), she has been yelled at to stop licking her infected wound, she has had underwear put on her to avoid said licking (which did not go over well), and now the lampshade.

We all joke about how Zoe is probably thinking “What did I do wrong?”  “Why is this happening to me?”  But the truth is, Zoe hasn’t done anything wrong.  As her owners, we were looking out for her own good by getting her “fixed” to prevent future problems.  AKA: we don’t want to have puppies.

Unfortunately, her animal nature took over so she licked, bit, and messed with her stitches… which is what led to the underwear, lampshade, and trip #2 to the vet. 

But Zoe doesn’t understand.  And she probably never will.  The current pain, agitation, and annoyance remains even though this is all for the best. 

Has life got you in a lampshade?  Are you wondering what you did wrong?  Take a step back.  Maybe the current pain, agitation, annoyance, or other problems are the result of God’s greater plan.  In all things, God is working for our good.  Sometimes the road to that better plan is painful, and sometimes we make it more painful by itching, scratching, licking, and biting our way through.  Our own reactions to the things we face in life have a tremendous impact on how we arrive at God’s plans for us. 

So these are my words of advice: stop fighting it.  The more we lick, scratch, and bite, the more likely we are to end up with a lampshade on our heads wondering what happened.  Let God be God and trust in his plans.  

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the LORD’s purpose that prevails” (Proverbs 19:21).

Getting “fixed” probably wasn’t in Zoe’s plans.  But it was in ours and it prevailed along with a few unforeseen consequences.  What’s in your life that wasn’t in your original plans?  Stop thinking you’ve done something “wrong,” sometimes the path to the place God has for you just has a couple lampshades along the way.

When the power chair doesn't move, move on.

I don’t think I can count the number of times kids have walked into the grocery store, caught a glimpse of the power chairs waiting directly inside the doors, grinned from ear to ear, and then jumped on for a joy ride. Unfortunately, the power chairs provide little entertainment because in order to operate, there needs to be certain amount of weight present on the chair. Most kids don’t fulfill this weight requirement. The reason for this? Apparently the power chair manufactures did not think children could properly operate said power chairs. I have to believe their assumptions are correct. For the sake of our displays of breakable bottles of organic apple juice, it would be better if juveniles were not taking joy rides on motorized machinery around our less than spacious store premises.

Sometimes I see a power chair, get excited, and hop on for a joy ride. In other words, I see a possibility or have an idea that I want to pursue. But God has different plans, He’s put a minimum weight on the “power chair” that I don’t quite meet. He knows I cannot properly operate certain power chairs and prevents me from taking joy rides that would have a negative impact on my or others’ lives.

Just as the excited kids leave the unmoved power chair disappointed, I walk away from an unfulfilled possibility with aggravation, cynicism, or even anger. We are so nearsighted that we fail to see why the power chair doesn’t move. In reality, we will never know what would have happened if the power chair moved. Maybe the apple cider display would have come crashing down, maybe some little old lady would have been run over, maybe the pyramid of apples would have rolled themselves all over the produce department. But do we really need to know the “what if?” Sometimes it’s just good enough to know that God knows best.

The child in us doesn’t care in that moment about the potential disasters that could follow our joy ride. When failed opportunities pass by, we rarely consider the idea that maybe it was in our best interest.

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11).

There is nothing in our lives that is not part of the Lord’s will. He knows what is best for us and which power chairs we cannot handle.

Rather than throwing a fit, skulking around, and missing out on other potential opportunities, it’s best to move on with the knowledge that God knows best. Not all the power chairs we encounter will bring us joy, but the fact that God cares enough to look out for our best interest is enough to keep me going.

When the power chair doesn’t move, move on.