Christmas Message

Merry Christmas!

Cue all the "We need to remember the real reason for the season" comments.  Do they really make a difference?  Does my saying a snarky "Merry Christmas" in response to a genuine "Happy Holidays" make the world a better place?

Also, does my griping about the above things make a difference or speak to the real reason of Christmas?

Ah, no.

So instead, I want to look at what makes Christmas special to me.

For the first time in over a decade, I get more than a few days off for Christmas.  Two weeks off from school is going a long way toward reinvigorating that nostalgia feeling that is so key to Christmas.  As a child, I loved the expectation of Christmas, but loved just as much the idea of nothing to do for two weeks.  I'll get to spend this time with my family, and that's a win for me.

Family is the other thing that makes it special.  Watching the kids decorate gingerbread houses and shout out the car windows at their favorite lighted house.  Deflecting the request to open presents at least twice a day until the day they actually get to open them.  Honoring my wife's request to not snoop or detect what she got me.  Getting together with the extended family that we don't get to see as often.  All these things make it special.

If I'm being honest, and I try to be, I love getting gifts.  I'm kinda a big kid, so opening the gifts I've labored to not snoop is a huge part of the Christmas spirit.  I like things, and that's not wrong.

I also like watching others open the gifts I got them.  The look of appreciation- and if we're lucky, total joy and surprise- is worth the work put in to find the right gift.  I love to see people happy, especially if I've played a part in that happiness.

I enjoy my kids anticipation of Santa Claus.  Their excitement the nights leading up to Christmas Eve is palpable, and their hope that they will get all they want is a beautiful thing to see.  It is an exercise in faith.  And yes, I believe in Santa- the idea of a spirit of giving and magic and wonder is real, even if the fat man in a suit is questionable.

Christmas is about all these things.  Yes, even Santa.  Because all these things are tied into Jesus.  Yes, even Santa.  Santa is, to me, another symbol of Christ.  Christ is full of hope and joy and expectation and generosity- and if Santa helps people see those qualities, awesome.  My children are challenged to evaluate why they believe in Santa- I view it as a practice in their faith for Christ.  Some day their faith in the man in the red suit may fade, but they will have learned that faith is real.  I am ambiguous with them about my belief in Santa- I am resolute with them about my belief in Christ.

After all, Santa is based off a real man named Saint Nicholas.  A man who became a symbol because he believed in something bigger than himself- the gift of Jesus.  Yes, Christmas is commercialized and Santa as we know him a fabrication- but the spirit is real, and the spirit is born out of the life and teachings of Christ.  Santa can teach us about God after all.

And we must remember this- Christmas is not the reason we are saved.  It is joyous and hopeful where the Cross is sorrowful and painful, but the Cross is necessary for the Manger to have any meaning.  And the Tomb is necessary for both of them to be worth recognizing. 

Christmas is my favorite holiday, but Easter is my favorite Holy Day. 

Christmas is the day we see the gift under the tree, Good Friday is the day we see the gift opened on the tree, Resurrection Day is the day we see what the gift truly is.

So for me, Christmas is just the beginning.  And the best is yet to come.

Halloween

One of the many perks of teaching in an elementary school is I get to dress up a lot.  Not suit dress up- costume dress up.  Today was "Book Character Day" so we had to dress like someone from a book.  This is, I believe, much easier for girls because there are just so many more famous kids book characters that are girls.

I didn't want to do Harry Potter or Gandalf, so I went classic literature and became Robin Hood:

(My fellow Math Lab People)

Now, that was my day costume.  I put it together myself from that arts and crafts foam rubber stuff and brads and a $4 t-shirt.

I also put a ton of work into a Batman costume that I would wear Halloween night when the family and I went out.  Here it is in action:

Now, the kids had homemade costumes courtesy of my Mom- Leslie was a cowgirl:

 And Kenna was a "sparkling pink princess" in her own words:

Kristin was also a cowgirl:

And here is our mostly random family Halloween:

This one was a popular Facebook pic, so I thought I'd share it here:

So, why does a grown man like to dress up as Robin Hood and Batman?

Because it's awesome!

And my kids love it.  I want my kids to not just know it is OK to have fun as a grown-up, I want them to see it lived out.  I've been called childish for my enjoyment of such things, but I feel I need these "silly" moments to remind that there is still a little innocence, a little clean fun to have in the world.  Having moments that remind of being a kid refresh me.

Our girls ran around the Harvest Festival we went to with giant smiles and tons of candy.  And they were there with both their parents who were enjoying it just as much.  That's the kind of family we are, and always want to be.

Repost: Leaving the Ministry to Save My Faith

Re-posted from my other blog for those who follow this one only:

I believe everyone is born an idealist.

Everyone has plans, grand and glorious.  The unfortunate people have those hopes dashed pretty quickly by a terrible luck of the draw with parents or homes or illnesses that destroy.  The slightly more fortunate ones make it to school where bullies and standardized tests chip away at the positivity.  If you make it to college, it generally gets renewed- but then real life puts the choke hold on idealism once again when careers and family obligations stack up.

The really lucky ones are idealists well into their kids teenage years.  Having been a youth minister for seven years, I know first hand the face of dying idealism in a teenager's parent.

At some point, all of us see our dreams die.  But a real idealist will find a way to resurrect that dream, that hope, that call.

Idealism, really, is about an unwillingness to let the core call and dream of you life stay dead.

I began my ministry career- or accepted the call to ministry in church speak- the summer after my sophomore year at A&M sitting beside a stream in Research Park.  The call was clear and specific- God wanted me to go to the ones others would not.

Over the next seven years, I found myself spending time with students that others overlooked.  Befriending them, and disciplining them, and loving them.  In 2007, God called again to plant a church in a bar in College Station to reach college students others missed.  In September of 2008, the Gate met for the first time at Hurricane Harry's.  It has been our home since then.

It was idealistic, for sure.  A church with no funding, no backing, no members, and a handful of adults with no advertising and intended to be led by college students.  One pastor told me point blank it wouldn't work.

He was wrong.

It did- not perfectly by any means, but it grew and deepened and survived.  We saw students come and go, some stayed and became leaders.  They too would eventually leave for jobs and marriage and life.  We reached some students that had seen the church turn their back on them, or at least lose sight of them.  We were like a family.  We saw God do things- never huge things, but good things.  Idealistically, we saw a big breakthrough around every corner.

But it never came.

And people kept graduating, and being called on to new things.  And we began to shrivel a bit.

I held on to idealism, and hope, and stubborn unwillingness to let it go.  We tried to revamp and restart, but it never caught on.  And I grew weary.  And I grew spiritually apathetic.

See, every minister reaches a point when their church threatens to become their lesser god.  At that moment they have choice to choose to seek God at the risk of their church, or let the lesser god suck their true faith.

I am at that crossroads.  For the last year or so, every scripture I have read, every insight I've grasped has been funneled into the leadership of the Gate- to the detriment of my personal relationship with Christ.  Over the last few months, I've awoken to realize my lesser god is not worthy of the attention that should go to the One True God.

My church is good, but it is not God.

I've taken stock of the people who make up the Gate.  They are good people, they are growing in their faith, and they deserve a leader who is passionate about God.  I'm not right now.  But I need to be.

Our church will close on November 18.  We will still meet in our small group for the time being, we will still spend time together and seek Christ together.  Because we are still and will always be a family.

God is calling me to a speaking and writing ministry, but before that happens, I need to get right with God.  It will hurt to end something that has been so dear to me- but my church is just a thing.  The people who make it up will still be a part of my life, so it is not a sad ending.

The church never did all things I dreamed it would.  It never got huge, it never did a ton of cool ministry things.  But it was not a failure.

It helped people find Christ again.  My daughter was baptized in this church.  I have been challenged and encouraged and tested by this church.  I have failed some- but in the end, God has shown me victory.

I am leaving the ministry to save my faith.

I will not be gone forever, and when I return, it will be different.  I will have new dreams, new plans, new hopes.

Idealism reborn- as authored by God.

As soon as I find Him again.  Shouldn't be long, because even though I've lost sight of Him, He's never lost me.

The Gate was a good thing, but it was a lesser thing.  It got in the way of God- the greatest thing.  I've grown bored of the lesser thing, and hunger for God is beginning to grow.

For those who are a part of the Gate now- or ever have been, we are still on this journey with Christ together, even though the Gate is ending.  We will still walk closely together as long as possible, it will just look different.  I'm sorry for the ways I've failed you, thankful for the things I've learned from you, and expectant to see the good things God did in you that I got to be a part of building.

We are all born idealist.  Then, idealism dies so it can be reborn as something better- hope.  And faith.  Faith in Christ our Savior- a greater thing than any that has come before or will ever come.

Please, pray for me and each other as we all move forward in pursuit of Christ.

May God bless you all.

Kids Worth Bragging On

Sure, all parents want to brag on their kids.  It's sort of a selfish pride thing.  The truth is, and I have been guilty of this in the past, we make our kids out to be better than they really are.  We want to see them as perfect and smart and talented and everything we wish could have been but weren't.

And that, my friends, is a parent's right.

But every now and then, your kids do something that is so good, you keep your mouth shut and let other people brag.

Kenna had that kind of day last week.  She has been doing well in Kindergarten, and last week she received the responsibility of being the class monitor (or "in charge of the class" as Kenna put it) while the teacher stepped out.  She has become a responsible little girl, and someone else noticed it.

This week at gymnastics, she showed improvement there as well.  Here is here back bend:

Also at gymnastics this week, Leslie did this:

It was her first time to try, and she worked and worked a dozen or so times until she got it.

But that is not the most brag worthy thing.  No, that came later.

Leslie has asthma.  It's not bad, but it gets kicked up real bad when she does lots of exercise.  Like this (with a little brag worthy shot of Kenna's beam work):

She came out to us, not breathing well, and we had forgotten her inhaler.  Bad parents.  Slowly we got her calmed down and told her to go back out and just sit with the team, no push to work out.  Soon, she was working out again.  It was clear the coaches were not pushing her, it was all her.

After practice, we were paying for something at the front counter, and one of the coaches caught us and said, "Thank you!"

"For what?" we asked.

"For whatever it is you do that gives her such a great attitude.  She is the only one who smiles through conditioning.  She is so mature and such a hard worker.  She has a great attitude."

Another coach chimed in, "And tonight, she kept trying to work out even when she couldn't breathe.  The other kids had to tell us.  She works so hard."

I can't speak for Kristin, but there was at least a tiny tear in my eye.  I know how special my kids are, and I sometimes brag a little too much.

But when other adults are so impressed with my kids, I can't help but blast the brag horn loud.

That's CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow.

Today was "Talk Like a Pirate" day at school.  Our school does it as a dress up day, so quite a few students and most teachers dressed up.  Now, I have a pirate history, having played Captain Jack Sparrow at youth camps a couple years in a row about 6 years ago.  The kids then loved it, as it was in the height of the movie popularity.  So, I figured I'd give it a go.  But, I was nervous.  You know that fear you had as a kid that if you dressed up for Halloween and no one else did?  Well, last year we did dress up at church and I was the only one in costume- so I was gun-shy, despite the assurances of fellow teachers.

I still suspect that there may be some hazing coming to the only new man on faculty- but that's just my paranoia.  Or is it?

Anyway, I did dress up after all:

Now, the funny thing was that I was called "Captain Hook" and "Blackbeard" just as much as Captain Jack despite my lack of hook or long, curly beard.  Sadly, it seems a new generation will not know the greatness of Captain Jack Sparrow...unless it becomes my mission to educate them.

And for every mis-identification that made me shake my head at the lack of culture in these kids- there was a  few faces here and there of sheer star-struck "THAT IS SO COOL!"  And some of them were even the kids.

If I have not made it clear yet, I love this new job.  I love that dressing up as a pirate is acceptable and encouraged.  I love that I can teach a kid math while batting beaded dreadlocks out of my face.  I love that I have to remind myself it is not appropriate to sword fight a kid- even if he did challenge me first.  I love that being goofy like today can be the key to getting into a kid's world that needs help and hope.

I am also glad that today is over- synthetic hair is so stinking hot.

Today, Chuck Norris Laughed at Me

Today was a harried day- school, followed by a quick trip to the doctor for Kenna (nothing major, no worries) followed by gymnastics.  Leslie started at 4:30, so there was some kid juggling to get her there on time.  When I got there with Kenna, Leslie had started and then there was much back and forth to car to get things we forgot to get in the first place.  Focus is not our strong suit.

On one return trip, I glanced over Kristin's shoulder and saw a red haired gentleman watching the practice- and instantly knew it was Walker, Texas Ranger.  THE Chuck Norris.  

We had heard his kids went to our gym and others had seen him, but there he was.  I played it cool and didn't tell Kristin until he left.  Couldn't have my wife embarrass me and Chuck Norris by quickly staring at him, now could I?

A little later, he returned and stood right near us in earshot.  Since Kristin and I had not seen each other much that day and we are at practice for 3 hours, we were chatting about the day.  In the conversation, we were talking about the response Kristin got about the lamps I made, seen here:

One of Kristin's fellow teachers had commented on how "Handy" I was- and Kristin explained how she had laughed about it.  It was at this point that Chuck Norris- the man who doesn't push himself up in a push up so much as he pushes the world down- turns and laughs at me.

Not a passing chuckle.  Not a belly laugh, but an extended full out laugh nonetheless.

It is at this point that I too am laughing- nervously, and the color of the above lampshade.  Kristin and I both manage a "hi" and I try to sheepishly defend my skills and deflect all at the same time.

But who are we kidding, Chuck Norris laughed at me.

A little while later, he was leaving with his kids, he turned and smiled and said, "Have a nice day!"  We returned the salutation and, when he was out of earshot, I thanked Kristin for mocking me in front of Chuck Norris.

On a side note- he seems to be a really cool and nice guy.

The Look of Success

Today was the day I got to be with students for the first time.

Now, I've been doing lunch duty, which is a bit like an obstacle course of kid's jokes and practical jokes and  "tag you're it" kind of games.  This is all well and good, but I don't really get to teach much.  Except to educate one young man on the finer points of getting people to fall for the "Look!  Behind you!"  Seriously, people won't by it if you have an ear-to-ear grin.

Despite my lesser education at lunch duty, I am still getting to teach kids math.  Today was simply assessment stuff.  I'd ask questions and they'd answer.  Simple back and forth.  But I found myself often on the edge of my seat, in anticipation of a right answer.  I'd actually get excited to see if they got it right- I WANTED them to get it right for the simple sight of seeing their joy at getting praise.  And when they got it wrong, I'd still try to encourage them, but I think my disappointment was bigger than theirs.  Because I wanted them to succeed.  After one day, I want more than anything to see these students succeed.

I'm hoping that is the stuff that makes good teachers, this hope and passion to see success in the unsuccessful.  I'm hoping my excitement at a kid counting the right number of dots never fades as long as this is my job.

Last week, I began the process of getting certified to teach.  It most likely will not be in math, but I want to bring the same feeling, the same motivation to whatever I get certified in.  Because for the first time in my life, in a job outside of the ministry, I know what I want out of it.

And it has very little to do with me, and everything to do with the look on the face of a student who got it right.