Archive for the ‘Humor’ category
October 10, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. October 10, 2018
At the middle school where I coach and substitute teach there are a few students who are like fertilizer. When you have them in class you can feel the gray hair growing in abundance!
They are the students who don’t function well in a structured classroom situation, or relate well to teachers and authority figures. They are the ones that consume 90% of a teacher’s attention during a class period, but refuse to do more than 50% of the assigned work.
It’s not that they’re bad kids and prepping to be juvenile delinquents. They just don’t have a problem with being the problems!
When I substitute teach in a class where there is a student who falls into this category I don’t go easy on him or her. I’ve sent a few to the office or had them join me for lunch that day away from their peer group. BUT…I always seek to greet them in the hallway in a welcoming manner. In other words, no matter what their transgression has been they’re still kids to be valued. The educational journey with some students just has a few more bends and curves in it than the rest! Some students don’t slide easily from A all the way to Z!
In the last few weeks I’ve noticed some of these students who scowl each morning as they arrive at school…hanging around after school! When the 80% of the student body who aren’t involved in after-school activities has exited the building and headed quickly away as soon as that dismissal bell sounds, these few students DON’T leave! An hour after school, if they can avoid notice, they’re still roaming the hallways or hanging out somewhere on the building perimeter. For kids who dread entering the building at 7:30 in the morning they seem to have a hard time exiting by 3:00.
They hang around.
I’ve gotten to know some of them, their histories and stories. The story is never the same. It would make for a good read if all of the personal episodes were combined together. There are students from single-parent families and students who would be going home to an empty house. There are students who live in two different households, one week with dad and one week with mom; and there are students whose parents would prefer that they stay at school for as long as they are allowed so that the parent doesn’t have to deal with them at home.
School has become their safe place and their place of consistency. In a good way it doesn’t change. It can be counted on when the rest of their lives are in chaos.
The teachers that they seem to enjoy terrorizing during class periods after 3:00 become the trusted adults that they gravitate to. A teacher that one of the “hang arounders” wouldn’t add two plus two for in class suddenly becomes the teacher the student is willing to run errands for, wipe down classroom tables, and share a snack with.
I don’t have any substantiated research data for this statement, just a feeling…an inkling…that school is where they feel valued and safe, that school is the place they can count on in their worlds where they’ve been disappointed and discarded too many times.
And so they hang around for an hour, an hour and a half, not wanting to leave and, oddly enough, in a few hours not wanting to come back.
Well…come back for class, that is! There’s work to do, new gray hairs to create!
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Grace, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: difficult students, discipline problems, latchkey kids, middle school, middle school boys, middle school girls, middle school students, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, problem child, safe places, safe zones, single parent homes, split families, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, teaching, undisciplined kids
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October 7, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. October 7, 2018
We were sitting in Cracker Barrel enjoying an unscheduled dinner out after a hectic day of substitute teaching and coaching (me) and watching the grandkids (Carol) for our oldest daughter and teacher, Kecia, who had parent-teacher conferences. Our conversation traveled through the wanderings of our days…the things the kids said, the players for the 8th Grade basketball team that I was deciding on, and national news items.
And then she was up!
A table of three sat behind us and to my left. I had noticed people sitting there on our way in, but I hadn’t given it another thought. Carol had! She went back to their table as they were finishing their meal. They were three senior citizens, one in a wheelchair, one with a cane, and the third now pushing the wheelchair as they began to leave. I heard conversation and thank you’s, but I didn’t know what exactly was happening.
And then Carol brought their meal check back to our table and put it on top of our own check. “We’re paying for their meals!”
“Okay,” I agree, knowing that it really isn’t a vote that she’s asking for. It is just how it is!
The three people are hobbling out as I say to Carol, “Well, I’d better go pay this so they don’t think they’re trying to sneak out (An impossibility taking into account their lack of speed and that they have a wheelchair!). I’ll be right back!”
The three thank me again as I come up behind them. The looks on their faces are priceless. Someone had done something really, really nice for them that had taken them back. I could tell that they’d be talking about it for the rest of the evening.
My wife is like that. She is spontaneously kind. She’ll give a quarter to a kid who is short on change for the candy he wants to buy at 7-11. She will ask someone who looks like they might be confused or lost or both if she can help them in some way. When our daughter calls at the last minute to see if Mom can watch one of the grandkids who has suddenly become ill Carol is out the door before she ends the cell phone call.
Her kindness is sometimes scheduled, but, more often than not, is spontaneous…lived out in the doings of the day. She would tell you that the Lord led her to pick up the check for those three people. It just happened. In the midst of eating her bacon and eggs God cleared her vision to see what she needed to do.
When I say “cleared her vision”, what you probably don’t know is that she had a cornea transplant operation thirty years ago because of a disease called “Keratoconus”, which is a gradual deterioration of the cornea. Her vision will never be good. She now plans her driving trips with “an eye” on when sunset is scheduled to occur because she does not like to drive in the dark anymore.
Side note: Her vision at sporting events is always 20/20 however! She sees things that the officials miss all the time!
Spontaneous kindness! It’s who she is! She will open doors for people, and always say thank you to someone who opens the door for her. She’s also not afraid to give a piece of her mind to a middle school student who has someone be kind to him, but does not acknowledge it.
And the thing is, I see that tendency towards spontaneous kindness filtering down through the next two generations of our family. Kecia goes over and above for her third grade students and her school. I remember David, our middle child who is a restaurant chef, stopping at Chick-fil-a one morning on his way to work and buying a bag of chicken breakfast biscuits for his cooking staff just to say “Thank you!” Lizi, our youngest, works with families whose children qualify for Head Start and other resources.
And now the three grandkids are showing tendencies towards being kind, not coerced to do so but rather out of the doings of daily life.
The three people walking out of Cracker Barrel with smiles as full as their satisfied tummies is just the latest blessing from the woman I married, and for the woman I married!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Grandchildren, Humor, Jesus, love, marriage, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: being led by the Lord, being led by the Spirit, charitable, charity, Chick-fil-A, Cracker Barrel, generosity, generous, generous giving, helping others, modeling behavior, paying it forward, paying someone's bill, picking up the check, spontaneity, spontaneous
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October 6, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. October 6, 2018
It’s a dilemma that is rapidly becoming a problem! Someone has been sitting on my stool at Starbucks, the last stool on the right at the counter that looks out towards Pike’s Peak!
It’s where I almost exclusively write my blog post! It’s my space to create, my stool to be cool!
What should I do? The man who has been sitting there doesn’t understand the history. It’s like the three bears coming home and finding Goldilocks eating their porridge!
I’ve thought about yellow caution tape wrapped around the seat, but, of course, the Starbucks corporation would probably frown on that idea. I wouldn’t want it to become another national news story about putting someone in his place…that is, anywhere that is not my space!
I mentioned it to one of the baristas who knows of the guy’s error in java judgment. She knows that stool is where I sit and gives me a look of disbelief and sympathy each morning it happens.
“Can you tell him to move?”
She looks at me with concern and compassion and says, “No.”
“Well, what time did he get here this morning?”
“I don’t know,” she responds. “He was here before I got here!”
Perhaps that’s what I’ll have to do…arrive earlier, be standing at the door as Starbucks opens at 4 A.M. Then I could take note of when the trespasser arrives and snicker! Of course, I’d have to go to bed about 8:00 the night before and Carol would be asking what in the world is going on with me?
“I’ve got to get to Starbucks when it opens. There’s a guy who’s been sitting on my stool!”
Carol will look at me like a DMV license renewal clerk. “What is this, Bill? Some kind of coffee version of Black Friday? Are you going to rearrange your whole life around the need to sit on a certain stool at Starbucks?”
“Yes!”
“Just find a different stool!”
I gasp at the idea. “That’s like me telling you to find a different husband!”
“No, it’s not even close, but if you go looney over a coffee shop stool it might be a possibility! Doesn’t this sound a little bit like when one of the grandkids is playing with a toy that one of the other grandkids wants to play with? All the one without can think about is that one toy, even though she’s surrounded by a roomful of other toys.”
“No, doesn’t sound like that at all.”
So I guess I need other options! Perhaps I could carve my name into the wood on the counter with the words “Space Reserved For” etched in before it.
Here’s the thing! I’m substitute teaching 3 to 4 days a week, so I’ve become inconsistent in my occupying of my spot. I’ve just come to expect that it will be there when I’m there, like a college student returning home on break and expecting his old room to still be the same, and to be his!
Next week, however, I’m teaching Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Wednesday is the only day, except for the weekend, where I can get to my stool. HE will probably be there, and I’ll sense the creative juices draining some my existence.
We humans are creatures of habit, some good habits and some bad…and some just plain weird!
Categories: children, Community, Freedom, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: behavior, Change, coffee, comfort zone, disliking change, habits, person space, personal space, Starbucks, trespassing
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October 2, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. October 2, 2018
Carol and I were driving to Simla on Sunday morning. I was scheduled to speak to the Simla Saints, as I do many Sundays. I was ready to tell them the story of Simon Peter, who, after a night of catching no fish, is told by Jesus to cast his nets one more time. I went through the message in my mind as we drove down the road.
And then the flashing lights appeared behind me.
“I wasn’t speeding was I?”
“I don’t think so,” encouraged Carol, as she reached for the car registration.
The law enforcement officer approached my vehicle. “Good morning! Sir, you’re driving with tags that have expired. I checked a couple of places and it came back the same result.
I looked at him with bewilderment and a quick search in my mind for understanding. I went into the vault of my memory to find some evidence that I had taken care of the renewal that had expired at THE END OF MAY!…exactly four months in the rearview mirror!
Seriously, I did not remember getting the reminder card that they send you in the mail. Perhaps it got mixed in with the political ad recycle pile, or perhaps the U.S. Postal Service was to blame! Yes, that’s probably what it was!
Or perhaps I was just stupid and didn’t do it!
Innocent or ignorant, didn’t matter! It was time to pay the piper disguised as…the DMV!
My personal list of dislikes is not that long…arrogant athletes, itching hemorrhoids, speeding BMW’s, seventh graders who think they are entitled, and…going to the DMV! It’s the adult equivalent of after-school detention!
It is my penance for negligence, for being totally clueless to the fact that I hadn’t noticed something I should have for 120 days!
The DMV looks like a crowded airport terminal where several flights have been delayed. An expressionless lady greets me…kinda’…at the front counter and asks me why I have come to the DMV on the first day of October with the masses that have gotten there before me.
“To renew my tags, ma’am!” She gives me a number. I look to see if it says, “Come back tomorrow!” It doesn’t! Instead, it says that I’m number 658. I’m not quite sure what that means until I see the lit board on the wall that could double as a Bingo number board. They are now serving number 560. I’m only a hundred away!
But there are other numbers on the board as well! There’s 131, 322, and A8. It could be that I’m four hundred away, but they are trying to fool me into believing I’m close. It’s another part of the punishment strategy of the DMV. I’m convinced they have goal-planning retreats to dream up new ways to inflict pain on the mental and emotional state of those who enter its doors. In the backroom I’m envisioning their mission statement in bold script writing:
“Our mission: To test the patience of our customers who have no choice but to sit and wait!”
And so I wait! I find a seat wedged between a hefty guy wearing Old Spice and a young man focused on playing a game of some kind on his cell phone. I’m the traditionalist who has brought a book with him, Patterson and Clinton’s The President Is Missing. Ironic that I’m reading this book in the DMV, a place that is missing compassion and concern because I was missing that little sticky tag.
Two hours later my number gets called by the automated Bingo caller and I make my way, number 658 in hand, to counter number 19 where a middle-aged woman gives me a suspicious look. She reminds me of my third grade teacher who was suspicious of anything any boy in her class ever did. The memory makes me shrink into a moment of confession.
“My tags are expired. I don’t remember ever getting a card in the mail!” I plead in a pitiful way. She looks at me with disdain. I have a memory of being sent to the principal’s office and wonder if there is also such a place in the DMV. Perhaps it’s another room where you take another number and are told you can’t eat lunch that day. (I’ve noticed a sign with big bold letters as you enter that tells people that no food or drink is permitted in the DMV! People leave the place dehydrated and nutritionally depleted!)
She takes my information and tells me the total. I repeat the total to her as I begin to write my check.
“$160.43?” That’s not bad I tell myself.
“No.” She repeats the figure again. I’m $300 off! “$460.43!”
“Oh!”
I swear I hear a chuckle resonating from her. I think I see her lips whisper the words, “Sucks to be you!”
The total includes a fine for being ignorant and negligent, and to make sure you never come back to the DMV ever again!
And, you won’t believe this!…in the mail that afternoon is the renewal notice for our other vehicle. It needs to be renewed by the end of October.
I immediately renew it on line! The DMV has taught me my lesson!
Categories: children, Community, Grace, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: car registration, Department of Motor Vehicles, forgetting, guilty, license plates, negligence, negligent, patience, penalized, penalty, penance, renewal tags, take a number, the DMV, waiting
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September 30, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 30, 2018
Corin Grace Hodges is three and a half with limitless energy! I’m 64 with limited energy! Without calling me a wimp she scolded me into submission last Friday. It was as if she was saying “Keep up with me, Granddad!”
After she met me at the door at 7:30 in the morning ready for action, we had breakfast, and went to her kid’s gym, which is called “My Gym”, went by Grammy’s school and spent some time saying hi to people, and went to Culver’s for lunch, we stopped at a park playground. There was a bench there. It looked appealing, like a cool cup of water in a desert of exhaustion. I went to sit down and watch her play.
“Come on, Granddad!”
“Huh?”
“Come on!” she repeated as she stood at the top of a playground creation. “We’ve got to get the fish!”
“The fish?” asked the clueless aged one.
“Yes, the fish! Get the fish and put them in the bucket!”
I watched her cup her hands together and carry an invisible fish back up the steps to an invisible bucket on a pretend boat. I pulled my weary body up from the comfortable bench to slowly join the rescue effort.
“Come on, Granddad! Get the fish!”
I followed the drill sergeant’s commands, cupped my hands together, and picked up a fish. “What kind of fish are these?”
“Rittle fish!”
“Are we going to have them for dinner?”
She gave me a look of disbelief, like I had said a cuss word in the midst of a silent school assembly. “The bad guys are going to get them! Hurry up!”
I didn’t realize there were bad guys in this playground drama, a playground that we had all to ourselves, which made it an even greater imaginary adventure.
“The bad guys are coming! Come on, Granddad! It’s your turn to steer the boat.”
“Oh, okay!”
“There’s some more fish!” She went down the slide and cupped her hands together again. “Come on, Granddad!”
“Do I have to come down the slide?”
A look of dismay at my stupid question. “Yes!” And she was off to the other playground apparatus twenty feet of sand away. “The bad guys captured me, Granddad!”
“Oh, no! I’ll come and save you!”
“No, you can’t!”
I’m a playground rookie, unfamiliar with a three year old’s rules of imagination, so I’m not sure what I’m suppose to do. “Steer the boat, Granddad!”
“And come and get you?”
“No!” said emphatically. A few seconds of uncertainty. “Okay! I escaped from the bad guys and there’s more fish!”
Back to cupping the hands! I’ve seen this movie before, so I begin to cup my hands. “No, Granddad! You’ve got to steer the boat! I’ll get the fish!”
“Okay!” I answer, confused and dazed.
Thirty minutes of rescuing fish, escaping bad guys, and confusing Granddad later we hop back in the car and head to our house for an afternoon nap. Did I mention that Corin Grace Hodges is competitive, determined, and a bit stubborn? I say to her, “I bet I can fall asleep before you do!”
“No, you can’t!”
And she’s right! After humming one chorus to herself she is…out! She beats me by at least twenty seconds!
Categories: children, Grandchildren, Humor, love, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: grandchildren, granddaughters, grandfather, grandkids, grandparenting, imagination, park playground, Playground, playground equipment, playing with the grandkids, slides, spending time with the grandkids
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September 29, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 29, 2018
Dear Mr. Substitute Teacher,
I am sorry for how I acted in the class you were our substitute for yesterday. I did not act right. It may have been because I had two Hershey’s bars for breakfast. That chocolate sometimes makes me do things I don’t usually do. Like putting Vaseline on the top of your desk that caused your hand to slip, resulting in your chin hitting the edge of the desk. I don’t usually do things like that. That second chocolate bar put me over the edge!
After you got the bleeding stopped you somehow figured out that it was me who had done it. I probably would have ‘fessed’ up even if you haven’t figured it out. I shouldn’t have used my right hand in spreading it. I couldn’t hold a pencil for the first two class periods!
I apologize for that!
And the constant chatter! You probably should have sent me to the office after the Vaseline thing, but you gave me a second chance, and I wouldn’t shut up. I don’t understand what came over me! Is there caffeine in a Hershey bar?
It could also be the class subject matter. I’m a history buff, you know. I play Fortnite everyday! Coming to Social Studies class just seems to bring all of that knowledge to the surface that I need to share. I just get all excited and out of control. I apologize for my inappropriate loud bursts.
You are a great teacher that I hope will sub for my class again. I promise I will be perfect next time. If you let me know you’re coming to my class I will make sure NOT to have chocolate bars for breakfast, maybe just do some fruit and yogurt that day!
AND I’ll help you with the other students who may be problems for you! I know who they are, and am willing to give you some intel on each one of them. That’s the least I could do for you!
Oh, and you’re probably wondering about the picture of George Washington on the wall. Yes, I was the one who dotted his face with spit wads…one on each cheek and a direct shot right on the tip of his nose. They were great shots!…but probably not appropriate. You’ll be glad to know that I cleaned up his complexion after school yesterday, although I thought the spit wad on his right cheek improved his appearance a little bit. I can’t help it if I’m a crack shot with a plastic straw. You should see me spitting watermelon seeds into a bucket twenty feet away!
Once again, I wanted to apologize for my behavior. I need to do better. My goal for the year is to only get suspended from school once and I know if I don’t improve my ways I could meet and surpass that total by the time Parent-Teacher Conferences happen in mid-October. You’ll be happy to know that my mom says I won’t be allowed to play Fortnite during my suspension!
Thank you for being nice!
Your Friend,
Johnathan Lee Davis, III
Categories: children, coaching, Humor, Parenting, Story, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: 7th Grade, apologies, apology letter, classroom behavior, Fortnite, Hershey's chocolate, middle school, middle school boys, middle school students, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, school classroom, school suspension, spit wads, substitute teacher, substitute teaching, Vaseline
Comments: 1 Comment
September 25, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 25, 2018
At our middle school, as any other middle school, there has been a lot of information and discussion about bullying- what it is and what to do if you are the person who is being bullied?
This school year there has been an initiative to have students and teachers think about doing the polar opposite of bullying. It’s the idea of being kind. Teachers and administrators wear t-shirts that say “Be Kind” on the front. (I’ve got one of the t-shirts!) Since school is only into its seventh week it’s hard to make any “kind” of determination on the effect or non-effect of the initiative yet.
Students ARE influenced by slogans and sayings, images and symbols, but I’m not sure how well a school can teach kindness. It’s on a different plane than learning algebra, what the functions are of the three branches of government, or the different body parts of a grasshopper are.
From my Christian faith, kindness is one of the results that emerges in the life of a Christ-follower as he/she allows the Holy Spirit to take up residence in his/her life. Kindness, along with other characteristics like perseverance, self-control, and peace are called “fruit of the Spirit.” That’s not to say that someone who isn’t a follower of Jesus can’t be kind, but I’m more comfortable with the belief that the Spirit can develop it within my life than in the idea that it can be taught to be a part of our human nature.
Middle school students are a bizarre community of many things- kind and thoughtful, self-centered and obnoxious, unorganized and wrinkled, understanding and supportive. Perhaps teaching and emphasizing kindness will cause a number of them to think about what they say and do before they do it, but I’m hesitant to believe it will change them for a lifetime. It may simply make this school year a little more tolerable!
I’m not so naive as to believe that if someone is a Christian he/she is automatically kind. I know a lot of people who identify themselves as Christians who are simply jerks! I wouldn’t let them date my granddaughter or walk my cat (if I still had a cat)!
Jesus modeled kindness for his disciples. His disciples were a bit clumsy in how they showed such a practice, but it finally sunk in. Early followers of Christ were known for their kindness. It grew out of their spiritual relationships and from the life of their community.
Can schools teach kindness that has sanitized from anything resembling Jesus? Time will tell, but it may end up being more like a “kinda’ kind!”
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Holy Spirit, Humor, Jesus, love, Nation, Parenting, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: be kind, being kind, being led by the Spirit, fruit off the Spirit, Holy Spirit, kindness, middle school, middle school students, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, showing kindness, teaching morality
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September 23, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 23, 2018
I’ll be driving out to Simla, Colorado this morning to give the morning message at First Baptist Church. Since I retired from pastoring at the end of 2015 I’ve made the 50 minute easy drive to Simla on most Sundays, even Sundays I’m not scheduled to speak.
As I reflected on my new place for preaching 36 years of sermons I discovered why I enjoy Simla so much.
It’s simple!
First Baptist Church in Simla is about as uncomplicated as you can get. On a well-attended Sunday morning there may be 20 people crowded into the sanctuary that seats over a hundred. Years ago the church was filled, or close to it, and then the main industry in town closed and people moved away, or died, or became more interested in something different on Sunday mornings. No one seems to have moved down the block to the Methodist Church. They are as lean in numbers as the Baptists.
Simla reminds me of a simpler time, and probably the most enjoyable time I had in my years as a pastor. It was when I went to pastor the First Baptist Church in Mason, Michigan. Although it was my first experience as the pastor of a church, having served as a part of the pastoral staff in two previous places, the congregation of Mason helped me as I learned and didn’t threaten execution when I failed.
I remember the people…Durwould and Elsie Collar, Ken and Ardis Bystrom, Russ and Freida Vincent, Harry and Phyllis Smith, Marie Lyons, Lorraine Demorest, Tim and Karen Chora, Ed and Pat Myer, Eva Collar, Eleanor Hart, Otto and Mary Heikkila, Harold and Carol Anderson, Howard and Kyoto Wandell, Katherine Every, and Ivan Heincelman. Each name conjures up memories and conversations that chiseled me a little closer to being a good pastor.
It was a simple time. That is, church seemed more like a summer picnic in the country than a week of meetings and responsibilities. It seemed like we enjoyed one another a little more and treasured moments like sitting in a booth at A&W and eating lunch together or having a Saturday morning men’s bible study where we ate donuts and drank coffee.
We didn’t have social media. Our media was a mention in the Ingham County News weekly newspaper…maybe! Our biggest crisis during those years was when a couple left the church because we weren’t nearly as spiritual as Jim and Tammy Bakker.
Simla brings back memories of those days, days of joy, peace, and community. This morning as I travel on Highway 24 it’s like I’m going back to what was and maybe what still can be.
Categories: Bible, Christianity, Community, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, Pastor, Prayer, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: being community, congregation, congregation needs, congregational life, helping, simple
Comments: 1 Comment
September 22, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 22, 2018
Middle school is a time of discovery as eleven, twelve, and thirteen year olds enter a new land of educational challenges, physical awkwardness, and unwise decisions. Like the frightened character in the horror movie who decides to open the door to the room where the strange sounds are coming from (and the theatre audience is yelling “Don’t do it!”), middle school kids do things and say things that make us shake our heads in dismay.
Like the boy last year who told his teacher, “I’m getting tired of looking at your face!” It did not go well for him!
Or the eighth grader who thought it would be cool to body surf down the concrete wall in the stairwell! He got about five feet into his journey and then fell over the side, landing on the steps in the lower half of the stairway!
Ands then there was yesterday when a boy decided to put his chewing gum into his armpit…underneath his shirt! Just as gum gets stuck on the underside of desks for eternity this boy’s armpit was stuck with some Dubble Bubble!
As with the actions of many middle school students the first question that comes to an adult’s mind is “Why?” Why would a student who can understand algebra put bubble gum in his armpit? Was he trying to keep it moist? Did he not know where else to store it and his armpit wasn’t doing anything anyway? Was it a class where the teacher doesn’t allow gum and he thought he could sneak a few chews in from time to time?
And what did this boy, who by the way did have some armpit hair to help create a situation that gives new meaning to the term “bubblicious”, tell his parents? Where did he get the idea that putting gum in his armpit was a good idea? Did he see his dad do it once in the midst of an elk hunting trip?
Is an armpit gum crisis a disciplinary problem that requires the security guard to be called; or a medical situation for the school nurse to handle; or a custodial situation with some stain remover; or a wood shop problem solved with a little bit of sawing…kind of like cutting some small trees down!
It happened on Friday afternoon. For some middle schoolers Friday afternoon is when they get a distorted understanding of American freedom and think anything is okay. For teachers and school administrators Friday afternoon is like the end of a marathon race. Energy is low, muscles are cramping, their cardio system in at its max, but the finish line is in sight! They are stretching for the tape just about to break it and throw their arms up in triumph…and someone comes into the room or office and says “Jimmy wanted to see if he could fit in his locker and now he’s stuck inside it!”
There is the urge to respond with “Well…he will still be there on Monday when we come back!”, but…then the teacher or administrator remembers that their job description includes something like “rescues students from themselves!”
Categories: children, coaching, Community, Freedom, Grandchildren, Humor, Parenting, Story, Teamwork, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: armpits, bubblicious, chewing gum, Dubble Bubble, dumb decisions, educational challenges, middle school, middle school boys, middle school girls, middle school students, middle school teachers, middle schoolers, stupidity, teaching middle school, twelve year olds
Comments: 2 Comments
September 19, 2018
WORDS FROM W.W. September 19, 2018
My friends, Ed and Diana Stucky, were telling me about a hike they made to an area in Colorado that has some magnificent red rock formations. They were surprised to find people dressed in attire that made them resemble biblical characters. They discovered that the group was there to film a video clip for their church’s Easter service in a few months. A film crew was getting set up.
And then there was Jesus! He was eating pizza! Ed thought it was pepperoni pizza!
There’s something strange, but also refreshing, about seeing Jesus sitting on a rock eating pizza. Kind of like seeing the middle school principal dressed up as a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle at school on Halloween! It just seems out of character or, more accurately, outside of what we expect.
Jesus holding a slice of thin crust pepperoni pizza made my friends stop and stare…and smile!
My daughter, Kecia, who teaches third grade, is always amused by the disbelief she sees on her students’ faces when she encounters them in non-school settings like Target or at a park. She is associated with their understanding of school so much that they have a hard time believing she can be any other place.
Jesus and pizza would be like that…unexpected and kinda’ cool!
In Jesus’ time people had rabbi stereotypes and messiah expectations. If I read my Bible correctly, there were a number of times when he did and said the unexpected. Sometimes organized religion is more comfortable with a Jesus that is sanitized and spiritually sterile than the Christ who offers grace and forgiveness for the sinful and unclean. In a way, we expect to see Jesus with a loaf of bread and a glass of water, not pepperoni pizza with a splotch of sauce nestled in his beard.
The refreshing thing about Jesus is that he is not confined by our nearsightedness or restricted to our personal legalism. He operates on the basis of who he is, not on who we decide he is to be.
In our concern over keeping anything with a hint of possible sin to it away from Jesus we’ve created a messiah who is about as exciting or appealing as a drink can of Ensure! Thus a non-dancing Jesus, who rarely laughs, never wears clothing featuring vibrant colors, and consumes food that is void of spiciness and sweetness.
I’ll take a pizza-eating Jesus. Heck! I’m even okay with a Jesus who also has toppings of sausage and ham!
Categories: Bible, children, Christianity, Faith, Freedom, Grace, Humor, Jesus, love, Pastor, Story, The Church, Uncategorized, Youth
Tags: Easter, Expectations, forgiveness, grace, legalism, Messiah, pepperoni pizza, pizza, stereotypes, the unexpected, viewpoint
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