Waiting and Suffering

I was reading a British author, Caryll Houselander, when I came across her quote: “Yet Christ welcomes the cross. He embraces it, he takes into his arms, as a man takes that which he loves into his arms. He lays his beautiful hands on it tenderly, those strong hands of a carpenter that are so familiar with the touch of wood…”

I had a difficult time with these words. Why?

At some point during his adolescence, Jesus, the Divine Son, became fully aware of his calling and his sacrifice. But at the same time that he was understanding his mission, Jesus, the man, was also training with his foster father in the trade of carpentry. He worked with wood daily—carving it, shaping it, and bending it to his will. And all the while he knew that his destiny lay on a tree—his arms outspread dying for the entirety of humanity. How do you work with the very device that will be your death? Confronting it daily next to your human father? Confronting it for years.

I’ve heard that we are grieving right now as we social distance. Perhaps we can apply the stages of grief to Jesus’ profession of carpentry from his perspective.

Denial. Why should this sacrifice for others be up to me?

Anger. I have to endure such pain for others? That doesn’t seem fair. Why shouldn’t others have to account for their wrongdoings?

Bargaining. Perhaps there is another way. If I’m allowed to stay with my mother and just teach the people, heal the people, turn the people back to You, Father…Take this cup from me. (I think Jesus thought this more than once.)

Depression. Those first 40 days in the desert, wandering, not eating, contemplating, praying. Do I have the strength to see this through?

Acceptance. “Man does not live by bread alone, but by ever word that comes from the mouth of God.” My Father will see me through this.

Go back to the wood—entering the wood shop of your daily trade and being reminded of your demise....

Picking up the tools to begin work. Confronting it silently and daily next to your human father. And next to your Father (for our Heavenly Father never leaves us, it’s us that walk away from Him time to time). You do this daily task for years. And Years. Your foster father gently guides your hands and you learn through the hands of love. And your Heavenly Father guides you through the pains in your heart with Love. And it comes to you.

Love. Love is what motivates you. Love for your earthly father, your Heavenly Father, your mother who will see you through your trials til the end, and those around you who you created in union with Your Father. Love drives you. And you begin to look forward to working with the wood, bending it and shaping it, making it into beautiful and helpful articles to be used in daily life. Perhaps even accepting the pain of the slivers, all because you know your destiny—because the cross ahead is temporary. Its societal shame becomes the ultimate Glory. All those you love with be with you at the last.

There’s another stage of grief in my mind. Maybe it’s not a stage, maybe it’s more like when you emerge from grief.

Deliverance. 

When Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened up and His Father said, “This is my Son in whom I am well pleased.”

Don’t we ache for that last part? To hear those we love, those we sacrifice for, say that they are well please with us? What a grace that would be!

Perhaps right now, in this waiting and suffering, this our investment because we desire to hear those words of grace later…well pleased.

Right now we are facing fear in disease and death—facing our reality alone cooped up in our homes. Facing that we are not enough, that we are not in control.

Oh that we would let The Carpenter shape us! How much happier would we be if we could let Jesus shape us into what He sees for us instead of we what see as ourselves? We could become the useful chair or table for others to lean on, or the beacon by using beautiful words and actions that give relief to others. What would it take for us to let The Carpenter shape us?

Suffering our cross. Letting the gentle hands of Our Father and His Son guide us through this time filled with slivers. Letting the Holy Spirit fill us with hope instead of dread.

Take this time to go through the stages of grief while we endure this waiting. And know that deliverance will come…that time when we hear Our Father say, “This is my child, with whom I am well pleased!”

Wading Through the Muck that is Myself

If you visited my last couple posts on my ComplementaryThoughts blog, you know that I’ve talked about self-image. I’ve been honest about my struggles with my own self-image—that I tend to see only my inadequacies. That’s something I constantly work on. But God never gives up on me and for that I am grateful.

My story today comes in that vein.

As an elementary and middle school educator, I see almost 400 different students during the course of one week. I see smiles and tears, joyful giggles and skinned knees. And I see love. Lots of love.

Last week a sweet kindergartener approached me during class and asked the following question. “Mrs. Oakes, can I come to your house?”

In my head, I had already formed the answer, “Uh…no.”

Before I could say it out loud, she followed up, “…And feed you whatever I want?”

Again. Uh…no.

Instead of seeing her dancing eyes, I focused on myself. Ugh. I thought, “Do I look that old that someone has to feed me?” And, “Since I’m still bald after three years, do I look that sick that someone needs to feed me?”

I somehow recovered to paste a smile on my face and pat her head. “Not right now,” I answered.

When I got home and relayed the story, my family asked what the sweet little girl wanted to feed me. I realized that I totally allowed my perceived inadequacies to get in the way of something bigger—relationship. So the next day I asked my kindergarten caretaker what she would feed me if she had the chance.

“Cheese crackers, of course. They’re my favorite!” Her eyes sparkled and danced with delight.

In that moment I recognized once again, it wasn’t about me. This beautiful soul didn’t think I was old or feeble, she wanted to share her favorite thing with me. That’s how much I mean to her.

The question remains: When will I get out of my own way? When will I stop wading through the muck called "self?" Probably not until I change how I see myself. So I guess I better keep chipping away at that problem. Again, I am grateful that God is patient with me!

And while the answer is still “no” on students coming to my house, maybe I’ll buy some cheese crackers and share recess with a kindergartner.

Keep chipping away, God. I’ll get there someday.

I know we all struggle with something. Just know you’re not alone.

Happy As If...

The eye of the storm is used to describe that deceptive calm in the middle of a hurricane before it rages again. When I was young, I thought, “Well, as long as you move with the storm and stay in the eye, you’ll be okay.”

Of course, I always picture the Lord giving me a heavenly pat on the head, thinking the same thing my grandmother used to tell me, “Happy as if you have a brain.”

So now you know who I am. A few cards short of a deck. Nothin' in the noggin.

And yet, I look back and see the many times the Lord protected me from myself or the anger of others and I realize that I’ve been blessed.

I can say that even after taking one round of an antibiotic back in 2015 that still poisons me today.

Yes, I’m bald.

Yes, I’m adjusted to life with grown children and yes, everyday shit happens to me.

And I know I’m not alone. Those things are worth sharing. Everyone wants to feel that they are not alone. So I'll start. Here's one of my "eye of the storm" stories.

When I first started teaching art, classroom management was stressed over and over as something a new teacher needed to figure out. I read articles, I researched online, I signed up for newsletters. One day during the height of that time all teachers fear and hate—the lagging of February into March when there’s no end in sight and the students are getting tire of being indoors as well—my then third grade sauntered into my classroom and I held my breath. I was going to try a new style of management with these rambunctious children. The class went smoothly, like a dream. Boom! Conquered!

Now all you teachers out there must be giggling to yourself and thinking the same thing my grandmother did. Happy as if…

And you’d be right. After school as I walked back to my classroom, I heard the third grade teacher talking with the second grade teacher saying, “I threatened my students within an inch of their field trip to get them to behave today.”

“Huh,” I thought. “They were great for me.” And my chest puffed out a little more. Nailed it!

Until I heard the follow up, “And I meant every class, even art!”

The screeching that you hear when they stop the old time vinyl? Yep. That was me, again. Eye of the storm. Happy as if. All day I had been proud that I’d figured out one of the most difficult things about teaching, corralling the 20 different personalities for one common goal, to produce art. My ego got in the way of the truth. Again.

Of course, since then I’ve learned that classroom management is an everyday task. You look at each and every face that enters the room, take their mental temperature and adjust. It’s an active task, and an ever changing one. You adjust your plans to what they can handle. In essence, you become a chameleon.

If you were in my head, you’d see me channeling Michael Caine from Miss Congeniality first thing in the morning: “Wear the chameleon, be the chameleon, you are the chameleon.”

Now you’re thinking, what in the world am I doing reading this blog? I’m not a teacher? Where is this mad woman going with this?

At my age, I’ve lived over half my life (please Lord, I don’t want to see 110). And I've picked up a few stories along the way. This blog is for those of you longing to get outside yourself and watch another person try and get outside herself as she meanders and cogitates on the bigger questions in life. 

It’s not a teaching blog (I am a teacher though), or a science blog (I was an engineer too), or even a writer’s blog (I have a few works out there), it’s a LIFE blog. If you’re interested in life, then tag along. I’d love to have you.