Teacher

 

Everything and everyone can be a teacher—

Not a career educator—

But a teacher—

One who teaches something.

 

A few months ago, I was taking a weekend theology course,

And one of the participants dominated the class.

She had a story for everything,

Spoke as if she knew it all, and

Tried to argue with the professor on what he was teaching,

When clearly she didn’t understand.

It got to the point that I stopped listening when she spoke

And instead tried to steady my breathing and breathe out grace.

It didn’t work very well,

But I still tried.

When Joe The Counselor asked about the weekend,

I didn’t respond with the ways in which the professor had challenged me

Or the things that I had learned.

Instead, I spoke about the annoying woman

And how much she had gotten under my skin.

Joe said, “She was your teacher.”

She was teaching you patience and humility.”

I said, “I don’t think I learned anything.”

And yet, I understood.

Anytime we are put into a situation in which we are uncomfortable,

We are given the opportunity to practice the skills in which we are lacking.

 

Most recently, I went gem mining.

I bought the bucket of dirt and shared it with the two kids I was with.

As they excitedly scooped dirt into their sifters and found gem after gem,

I noticed myself feeling unsettled.

They were finding more gems than me,

And they were going much faster than me.

“I hope they’re not throwing away gems,” I thought.

“I bought that bucket,” I thought, “I should get all the gems.”

“What in the world, Deaton?” I responded to myself.

“You have done this tons of times. You have a whole bucket of gems at home that you’re doing nothing with. They are having a great time! They are experiencing the joy of what you love so much. Why are you being like this?” I scolded myself.

“Oh…The kid in you is jealous…” I realized.

And then I was able to soothe that kid and return to the somewhat reasonable adult that I am.

Almost immediately, those two kids and that bucket of dirt had become my teachers.

 

 

Who or what are your teachers these days?

What are they teaching you?

 

Oh God: When we feel uncomfortable. When our thoughts start going into negative space. Help us to stop and be curious. Help us to ask ourselves what teachers are trying to teach us and help us to discern what lessons we need to hear and practice. We will never completely conquer patience. Or humility. Or jealousy. Or anger. Or pride. Or any other vice or virtue. So help us to remember your love and grace as we practice living into goodness. And God? Help us not to miss that goodness…for goodness abounds…even in the midst of our deepest shortcomings and stupidities…goodness abounds. Amen.

A Lesson in Parenting

 

I went to Boone last week with my college best friend and her kids. 

We had planned to go to Linville Caverns on Wednesday, but when we looked more carefully, we realized that the caverns were closed on Wednesdays. 

So we looked at Tweetsie Railroad. 

It was closed on Wednesdays, too. 

So we looked at a hiking trail. 

The trail head was closed. 

So we decided to go gem mining. 

We went to the gem mining place because the website said it opened at 10. 

It was closed. 

At that point, we realized that websites were not always correct and that the mountains must be closed on Wednesdays :-).

But it didn’t matter.

We were just happy to be away. 

 

We ended up taking the girls to the Alpine roller coaster and adjoining ropes course.

We called before we went :-). 

Our timing was perfect.

We were the only people at the ropes course for quite a while, 

And this was very good for the girls to learn how to work the hardware.

 

As Angela and I stood on the ground and looked up at the girls dangling from ropes,

We each experienced our own anxieties.

Even though I knew that the girls could not come untethered, 

I still had this fear that they would somehow be the anomaly who broke the system and fell. 

I’m not sure exactly what Angela was thinking,

But at one point, she said,

“This is a good exercise in parenting.

Watching your children do something new and scary but having absolutely no control.”

I may not be a parent, but I agree with that statement!

 

When we care for someone, it is easy to want to take care of everything for them. 

We don’t want our loved ones to suffer, so we do everything we can to remove difficult obstacles. 

We don’t want our loved ones to make dumb decisions, so do everything we can to steer them clear of stupidity. 

We offer advice. 

We yell. 

We scream. 

We try to do the work for them. 

Yet, in the end, it is up to our loved one to do the work themselves.

 

Angela and I spent a lot of time just watching the girls.

We offered words of encouragement along the way, 

And we gave cheers of celebration when they rang the goal bell. 

We marveled at how beautiful the view must’ve been for them at the top of the structure, 

Unobstructed and far-reaching.

And finally we understood when they came down from the tower, excited, full of adrenaline, tired and sore.

We were happy for the girls,

For what they had accomplished,

And how they had done it completely on their own.

 

Oh God: Help us with our boundaries. Help us to know when to hold on and when to let go. Help us to know what is within our control and what is beyond. Help us to know where we end and another person begins. And help us to know how to encourage others even while sitting with our own fears and anxieties. Thank you for friends and family members who cheer us on along the way. Help us to be good cheerleaders and sitters and listeners, and when we must intervene, grant us the strength and the courage to know how. Amen. 

Anger Explosion

 

I went to get my Covid booster last week.

My doctor said that I should get it before traveling this summer,

So I obeyed my doctor’s orders and got it.

 

At my local CVS,

There is a little area behind a red screen that is designated as the vaccination area.

As I was sitting there waiting for the pharmacist to give me my shot,

I heard a man on the other side give his name and birthdate.

I then heard the pharmacy tech ask for his government issued ID.

He was picking up a controlled substance.

The man asked why they needed his ID.

The pharmacy tech explained that it was the rule for controlled substances.

The man didn’t like that answer.

He began questioning why he hadn’t been told about this rule before coming.

No matter what the pharmacy tech—and eventually the pharmacist—said,

The man got angrier and angrier.

I started to feel a little afraid.

“This is the type of situation where someone could get hurt,” I thought.

“I really hope this man doesn’t have a gun.”

 

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only 2-3 minutes of yelling,

The man eventually walked away, pissed.

“You can keep the medicine,” he declared.
“Because I don’t have my ID.”

 

This man’s response was likely a trauma response,

Triggered by something I will never know,

And it was likely fueled by anxiety over starting a new medication

(He mentioned that it was a new medicine a few times)

And a chemical imbalance

(I heard what the medication was for)

And a frustration at getting caught not having his license—

Which could be because he refuses to carry a license for personal or political reasons,

Because he accidentally left it at home and was aggravated with himself,

Or because he didn’t have a license because it had been revoked.

Or, the man’s response could have been fueled by racism.  

He may not have been able to get beyond the fact that the pharmacy tech and pharmacist were both people of color.

 

I don’t know.

 

Regardless,

His response was more extreme than it needed to be…

Yet, it was a much more normal expression of heightened emotion than I wish were true. 

 

May we, as a society, normalize healthy emotional expression and language.  

May we, as a people, learn to breathe and feel our emotions.

May we, as a church, hold space for people to heal from trauma.

May we, as screen addicts, remember that face-to-face relationships are important.

And may we, as God’s children, see beyond gender and color and treat all people as those worthy to be respected and loved.

 

Amen.

Disappointment

 

Last Monday wasn’t my best day.

It started out fine.

I enjoyed sleeping in and then

Eating a nice leisurely breakfast.

But then I checked my e-mail:

 

Dear Ms. Deaton,

Thank you for your interest in volunteering for Antiques Roadshow.

We currently have all the volunteers we need,

So we will not need your assistance in Baltimore.

 

And that was it.

 

I had planned an entire Baltimore vacation under the assumption that I had been accepted as a volunteer for Antiques Roadshow.

 

I filled out the volunteer form.

I received a confirmation e-mail.

The e-mail listed what volunteers would need to do and the things with which they’d be provided, and

It said at the bottom that more information would come.

 

But here’s the thing:

Evidently, the e-mail confirmation wasn’t a confirmation of acceptance.

It was a confirmation of INTEREST.

They accepted applications on a first come, first serve basis.

And my application was apparently received after the 140-person cut off but before they closed the form.

 

I had planned to go to Fort McHenry—which is a bucket list teaching item—

To go to a fancy restaurant—

To go on a sunset sailboat ride—

To go to the zoo and aquarium—

And to stay in the safe part of downtown Baltimore.

 

When my Roadshow hopes were dashed, though,

So were my plans for the rest of the trip.

The friend going with me was only going because she knew how excited I was.

Without that excitement, she was worried about money…

I didn’t want to make the trip alone.

And so…one by one…I cancelled all my reservations.

 

And I was very sad.

 

I moped around the house all day.

I took a nap.

I mourned the dashed excitement and loss of plans.

I felt my feelings.

And then later in the week,

I planned a different trip with a different friend to a different location.

I will spend less time in the car

And more time with someone I don’t get to see often enough.

 

Oh God: When things don’t work out as planned—when we are left feeling disappointed and sad—help us to feel our feelings for a healthy time and then to work with you to create something good from the broken pieces. A failed vacation is a first world problem. I know that. I know that I am fortunate to have experienced the disappointment at all. Help me never to take that for granted. And God? Be with those who cannot travel away from home for whatever reason. Grant them joy and light and happiness in the everyday moments of life and bring to them the good news from a big, beautiful world. Amen.

G-mama's Advice

 

Today is G-mama’s birthday.

She would have been 102 if she were still alive,

And I’d have been right there interviewing her.

 

Since I can’t interview G-mama in real time,

I thought I’d look back at her life

And share her answer to this question:

How did you tell G-daddy that my mom had been born?

 

This answer is from a letter that G-mama wrote G-daddy during WWII.

My mom has all of their remaining correspondence from the war.

I’ve been reading their letters off and on for the past week,

And I’ve laughed, and cried, and awwwww-ed, and felt privileged to have such treasure.

 

---

 

Tuesday Night

 

My Love,

 

Junior has come and Junior is a darling little girl. My last letter to you was written Saturday night, so considering the happenings since that time, I could write you a many page letter. However, I’ll have to take it by steps. It’s killing me that I haven’t any address and can’t let you know the news as yet. However, I hope for a letter tomorrow and then I’ll rush a telegram.

 

Let me get to your daughter, ‘cause I have a feeling you might be interested (ho ho)…She was born Sunday night—12:10—so that means the third member of our family has a birthday June 28. I was surprised at the weight—a nice fat baby we have, with a head of long black hair, and with blue eyes. I had a time deciding about the name, ‘cause I wanted your help so much. I remembered, though, what we had said, so it’s Sandra…

 

My mind is running over with things to say, but my ink is giving out and it’s feeding time for our sweet little girl, so I’ll finish tomorrow. I’m okay, and I love you more than ever. The thing I want most is to see you and have you see the baby, but we know the situation, so we’ll make the best of it and go on loving each other more every day, won’t we?

 

Love Always,

Nina

 

PS. Thursday night: I just received your letter and I’ve sent you a telegram. I haven’t been equal to writing and I plan to write a long letter tomorrow. We are both fine.

 

---

 

I always ended my interviews with G-mama by asking if she had any advice for her fans.

I don’t know about you,

But I think the final line of G-mama’s letter says it all:

“…so we’ll make the best of it and go on loving each other more every day, won’t we?”

 

Friends: Let’s make the best of life and go on loving each other more every day.

 

I can’t think of any greater advice than that.

 

Amen.

On Woodworking

 

I had the privilege of visiting a friend over the weekend

And getting to work with her master-craftsman husband on a bookshelf.

We started from large planks of wood,

Measured and cut boards,

Sanded them,

Trimmed them,

Squared and clamped them,

Glued them,

Screwed them together,

Made and placed little screw-hole covers,

Sanded again,

And finally blew off the sawdust.

I now have a super sturdy small bookshelf that I only need to coat with polyurethane

And then he’ll be ready to go.

I’m calling my bookshelf Ray, Jr.,

In honor of the man who built him.

 

The part that I helped most with was the sanding.

(I’m not yet trustworthy with sharp, cutting power tools).

Ray The Woodworker has an electric sander that

He can hook into his Shop-Vac for zero visible waste!

Ray made sanding look easy.

It was not!

The wood resisted being ground down,

And the sander tried to run away on its own.

I had to stand with both feet firmly planted on the ground

And press down with all my strength to control the sander.

Once under control,

The sander did all the work!

 

What’s really odd is that when I was doing the sanding,

I couldn’t see the difference in the wood being sanded.

But when I watched Ray do the sanding,

I could immediately see where he’d smoothed the wood.  

 

I think this is how it is with life sometimes.

When we’re in a process of transformation,

We can’t always see the change.

Sometimes, we resist the change.

Sometimes, we must keep both feet firmly planted on the ground in order for the change to occur.

But if we keep ourselves open,

If we persevere,

And if we allow ourselves to believe the voices of those encouraging us in the process,

Then we will see our rough edges made smooth

And witness our inner beauty shining through.

 

I would not trade my experience with Ray The Woodworker for anything.

He freely shared his love of his craft with me and

Made for (with) me something I will always cherish.

 

May we each be as kind to one another as Ray was to me,

And may we listen to one another’s voices of encouragement

In times of growth and change.

 

Amen.

Trinity God

      

 

Imagine God in Three Persons, blessed Trinity.

Imagine God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.

Imagine God the Creator, Jesus the Redeemer, and Spirit the Sustainer.

Imagine God in community with Godself, existing together in love so deep that it overflows.

 

Imagine Trinity God deciding to create the world out of an outpouring of that Love.

Imagine Trinity God creating humankind with which to share the community of Love.

Imagine Trinity God weeping when humanity continually strayed from Love.

Imagine Trinity God deciding to come in flesh and blood, not because Trinity God had to but because Trinity God wanted to out of deep sorrow and the overflowing love of community.

 

Imagine Jesus coming to earth as a boy who had to learn to crawl and walk and talk and work.

Imagine Jesus living into everything humanity could be, freely offering the love that made him decide to put on skin.

Imagine Jesus being killed because he made church leaders mad when he welcomed everyone to his table.

Imagine Jesus looking at his disciples with sheer compassion as he told them goodbye, died, and greeted them again.

 

Imagine God the Father and God the Holy Spirit weeping as part of them was beaten.

Imagine God the Father and God the Holy Spirit comforting Jesus as he writhed in pain.

Imagine God the Father and God the Holy Spirit breathing new life into Jesus’s bones.

 

Imagine humanity getting it wrong.

Imagine humanity missing the point.

Imagine humanity not seeing the nose on its face.

 

God is love!

God is love!!

God is love!!!

 

Oh God, help us see and feel that love as it overflows from the very core of your being.

 

Amen.