Do not let your adorning be external- the braiding of hair, the wearing of gold, or the putting on of clothing-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. -1 Peter 3:3-4 (ESV)
America is obsessed with health. Amazon.com sells hundreds of thousands of books on how we feed our bodies, how we trim and tone our bodies, and how we care for our bodies. The Apple store has 250 popular health and fitness apps (not to mention the limitless less popular apps) designed to get you on track for the best six pack, shedding baby weight, 5k training, and so on. Walmart sells over 2000 different kinds of protein powder. As a resident of Baltimore County, I can borrow over 3000 health books from our library system or find a CrossFit workout in 23 different locations. What I guess I really mean to say is that America is obsessed with physical health.
I, too, put considerable effort in to tracking how much I put into my body, what kind of things I put into my body, how much I exercise my body, etc. And there is nothing wrong with this! God has given me a strong body that I need to steward well if I am to fulfill His purposes for my life and serve others effectively. Yet, we know that age sets in eventually. Healthy lifestyles can only take you so far.
Beyond the usual womanly application concerning the vanity of ever-changing fashion, Peter pointed my heart further. I may obsess over every calorie that fuels my body, but I take little account as to what I fuel my mind and heart with on a regular basis. I expend much effort into adorning myself physically with much less regard on how I adorn my spirit. Women long for imperishable physical beauty (which fades with time), but SO much more worthy of our time and attention is imperishable inner beauty (which grows with time).
So I leave us (myself included) with this today: Are you concerned with the things you are feeding your soul? Do you keep close watch that you aren't feeding your heart and mind with discouraging, life-sapping "trans fats?" Are you training your spirit for endurance and joy? Are you watching the "caloric" minutes here and there spent on social media, radio, or entertainment that continue to fuel your heart in small doses that, with time, amass and influence how you think and feel? How's your cardiac calorie counting?
7.31.2015
Your Excellency
Technology is a delightful tool. Globalization is an incredible gift. The capability to share thoughts and information all across our planet and even into space is positively mind-boggling. Ease of expressing our opinions to a large audience has, I believe, desensitized us to take this gift for granted. What we choose to share, "like," open, read, and comment on matters. Social media's commonplace has become a graveyard for countless hours of my life and we can easily fool ourselves into thinking that its use is harmless, worthwhile, even necessary. Unfiltered political platforms, cultural issue commentaries, opinion polls, sensationalist stories, trending health fads, and tutorials for things that really don't need a tutorial inundate my newsfeed daily. 95% of these I'm completely uninterested in, but will sometimes get sucked into without mindfulness of the time and mental investment I'm making with each click further.
Our culture's food obsession scrutinizes what we feed our bodies (antioxidants- good! yellow dye #87- bad! paleo- great! atkins- dig your grave now!) and how we care for them (crossfit! high intensity! 5k! fitbit!). But what about our minds? What fuel do we fill our minds with? Many will insist that meditation and intentional clearing of the mind of negativity is a necessary practice, but if how we fed and guided our thoughts each day was healthy, perhaps this wouldn't even be a "thing."
What if we actually took seriously Paul's encouragement in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things?" If we focused our thoughts on truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty, true goodness, and excellence, how would that renew our minds and transform our lives (Romans 12:2)? Would that allow us to "be sober-minded" and "prepare our minds for action" (1 Peter 1:13) in such a way that we could "put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and slander" (1 Peter 2:1)? Could we, then, live to "proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" as God's people who have received a serious amount of mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)?
When we set our minds on unchanging, life-giving, mind-sharpening truth (specifically, truth about who God is, what He has done, and who we are in light of who He is and what He has done) instead of whatever fleeting nonsense flits in and out of social media, we are more enabled to live well, without hypocrisy, and to use words to love excellently.
So is what you devote your thoughts to (whether two hours or two minutes at a time) worthy of the limited time you're given on Earth? Is it lovely? Do the things that you choose to share or tweet "spur one another on toward love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24)? Are we commenting in ways that prompt our hearts to "increase and abound in love for one another" (1 Thessalonians 3:12)? Are you thinking excellently?
Our culture's food obsession scrutinizes what we feed our bodies (antioxidants- good! yellow dye #87- bad! paleo- great! atkins- dig your grave now!) and how we care for them (crossfit! high intensity! 5k! fitbit!). But what about our minds? What fuel do we fill our minds with? Many will insist that meditation and intentional clearing of the mind of negativity is a necessary practice, but if how we fed and guided our thoughts each day was healthy, perhaps this wouldn't even be a "thing."
What if we actually took seriously Paul's encouragement in Philippians 4:8, "Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things?" If we focused our thoughts on truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty, true goodness, and excellence, how would that renew our minds and transform our lives (Romans 12:2)? Would that allow us to "be sober-minded" and "prepare our minds for action" (1 Peter 1:13) in such a way that we could "put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and slander" (1 Peter 2:1)? Could we, then, live to "proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light" as God's people who have received a serious amount of mercy (1 Peter 2:9-10)?
When we set our minds on unchanging, life-giving, mind-sharpening truth (specifically, truth about who God is, what He has done, and who we are in light of who He is and what He has done) instead of whatever fleeting nonsense flits in and out of social media, we are more enabled to live well, without hypocrisy, and to use words to love excellently.
So is what you devote your thoughts to (whether two hours or two minutes at a time) worthy of the limited time you're given on Earth? Is it lovely? Do the things that you choose to share or tweet "spur one another on toward love and good deeds" (Hebrews 10:24)? Are we commenting in ways that prompt our hearts to "increase and abound in love for one another" (1 Thessalonians 3:12)? Are you thinking excellently?
6.07.2015
The Non-Feminist Feminist Rant
Full disclosure: I am not a feminist. I am, however, a boldly-speaking, deep-thinking, sometimes-a-little-too-strongly-willed, sport-watching female. I also happen to play soccer. In the past twenty-five years, I've spent more time chasing a ball around than most other activities. Although I found significant playing time at the sweeper position for a few years in high school, most of my experience extends to the other side of the field as sweeper or an outside midfield position. I am an offensively-minded player at heart. The thrill of lobbing the perfect cross for the diving header or nailing a long shot from outside the 18 into the corner of the posts is positively euphoric. All of the advance training, communication and team work, sweat and effort, play-by-play success, and mini individual triumphs culminate in celebration once that ball crosses the goal line.
... Which is why I found myself extremely irritated when I heard one of the announcers during a Women's World Cup game exclaim, after the first goal of the match, "Wow! That's something she'll be able to tell her kids about one day!"
Okay.
I take zero issue with celebrating a memorable moment with an athlete. As a female also looking forward to raising children in the future, the idea of sharing past experiences with future offspring doesn't offend me. I also greatly enjoy the myriad of differences between men and women.
However.
As an athlete, hearing a commentator (and a female one, shockingly) jump from, "She scores!" to "She'll be able to tell her kids about that one day" is offensive and ridiculous. It glosses over the countless hours of hard work, athleticism, precision, and world class talent to relegate the player's worth to "her future offspring will have a mommy who did something neat once." A football announcer would never celebrate a touchdown from a punt return by exclaiming, "That guy will be able to show his son that run some day!"
The women playing in the FIFA World Cup are among the best players in the world now and in history. Countries that have never been on this world-wide stage are finally getting the opportunity to. Unlike many professional male athletes, most of these women work full-time because making a living as a soccer player just isn't realistic. These countries' representation culminates from millennia of women's rights and are worth celebrating! The progress made through their histories are beyond notable. The ability to bear and sustain human life ought to be marveled at. These women have incredible stories and lives that are should be told. And yes, they will have lives to return to once the games in Canada wrap up.
But when these women are playing soccer, their work as athletes is worth watching, following, and cheering for. Get excited about the skill. Comment on the triumphs and learn from the mistakes. Admire their precise footwork, their technique, their strength, and their strategy. Admire these women for the incredible athletes that they are.
... Which is why I found myself extremely irritated when I heard one of the announcers during a Women's World Cup game exclaim, after the first goal of the match, "Wow! That's something she'll be able to tell her kids about one day!"
Okay.
I take zero issue with celebrating a memorable moment with an athlete. As a female also looking forward to raising children in the future, the idea of sharing past experiences with future offspring doesn't offend me. I also greatly enjoy the myriad of differences between men and women.
However.
As an athlete, hearing a commentator (and a female one, shockingly) jump from, "She scores!" to "She'll be able to tell her kids about that one day" is offensive and ridiculous. It glosses over the countless hours of hard work, athleticism, precision, and world class talent to relegate the player's worth to "her future offspring will have a mommy who did something neat once." A football announcer would never celebrate a touchdown from a punt return by exclaiming, "That guy will be able to show his son that run some day!"
The women playing in the FIFA World Cup are among the best players in the world now and in history. Countries that have never been on this world-wide stage are finally getting the opportunity to. Unlike many professional male athletes, most of these women work full-time because making a living as a soccer player just isn't realistic. These countries' representation culminates from millennia of women's rights and are worth celebrating! The progress made through their histories are beyond notable. The ability to bear and sustain human life ought to be marveled at. These women have incredible stories and lives that are should be told. And yes, they will have lives to return to once the games in Canada wrap up.
But when these women are playing soccer, their work as athletes is worth watching, following, and cheering for. Get excited about the skill. Comment on the triumphs and learn from the mistakes. Admire their precise footwork, their technique, their strength, and their strategy. Admire these women for the incredible athletes that they are.
4.28.2015
Don't Pray for Baltimore
The sound of sirens filled the air all afternoon. When I went to bed, they could still be heard in the distance. This morning, instead of birds chirping outside my window, one lone siren in the distance could be heard. Yesterday's late-breaking news of the peaceful protests, violent riots, fires and looting, State of Emergency, National Guard being called in, prayer walks, etc. turned into a sideshow for sidewalk-gawkers, local radio talk shows, major news broadcasts, and even international audiences. Throughout the afternoon and evening, I received numerous messages inquiring as to my personal safety (which I appreciate, by the way). Social media became a seemingly endless stream of condolences, petitions for justice, speculations, and calls for prayer for the city from those near and far.
Which brings me to my request: Please don't pray for Baltimore... and then just go about your day. With the unparalleled amount of information that floods our news, advocacy groups, awareness days and ribbons, internet memes, online petitions and movements, and cries of outrage, armchair activism is one of the unfortunate by-products of increased globalization in our generation. Supporting something has taken the form of clicking, liking, tweeting, sharing, thinking positive thoughts and well-wishing and good vibes, wearing a certain colored shirt on a specified day, wearing a certain colored ribbon on a specified day, being "aware" of a certain thing on a specified day, yadda yadda yadda. This makes us feel good because we feel like we're making a difference.
A week later, we're jumping on to the next issue social media decides is sexy.
If this is as far as you care to go to support my city, then please don't bother praying for Baltimore. If you are truly concerned and moved by what you see, then do something. Let's not be content to have "positive" feelings about something for five minutes and then jump back into whatever we were doing.
Does it bother you that young, black men have to consciously think about what they are wearing during certain times of the day when they are out doing their business? Then start some conversations. Are you uncomfortable when you consider that lots of excellent law enforcement officers who have a passion to keep people are getting bricks and glass hurled at them? Then call up their spouse who is sitting at home worried sick about them and ask to come over to be with them. Do you get uneasy about the fact that these high schoolers feel so undervalued, disrespected, and uncared for that the only way they know how to be heard is to charge into a store with a baseball bat? Then go introduce yourself to one, root for them during their basketball game, take them out for ice cream, and ask them what it's like being a teenager in 2015. Are you saddened by the pictures of destruction to homes and communities and neighborhoods? Look around your own community, grab some friends and gloves, and get to work. Do you see the hurting faces, tear-stained with injustice? Then ask yourself, "What injustice am I currently contributing to?" and go do something about it.
And as you are doing, by all means, ask for God's help. People change when God changes them. So let's pray for that. Not only for safety and inconvenience-free lives. Not only for peaceful and calm, pristine-looking streets. Pray that God will radically change hearts and turn lives upside-down. But don't just pray and go about your day.
Which brings me to my request: Please don't pray for Baltimore... and then just go about your day. With the unparalleled amount of information that floods our news, advocacy groups, awareness days and ribbons, internet memes, online petitions and movements, and cries of outrage, armchair activism is one of the unfortunate by-products of increased globalization in our generation. Supporting something has taken the form of clicking, liking, tweeting, sharing, thinking positive thoughts and well-wishing and good vibes, wearing a certain colored shirt on a specified day, wearing a certain colored ribbon on a specified day, being "aware" of a certain thing on a specified day, yadda yadda yadda. This makes us feel good because we feel like we're making a difference.
A week later, we're jumping on to the next issue social media decides is sexy.
Go us.
If this is as far as you care to go to support my city, then please don't bother praying for Baltimore. If you are truly concerned and moved by what you see, then do something. Let's not be content to have "positive" feelings about something for five minutes and then jump back into whatever we were doing.
And as you are doing, by all means, ask for God's help. People change when God changes them. So let's pray for that. Not only for safety and inconvenience-free lives. Not only for peaceful and calm, pristine-looking streets. Pray that God will radically change hearts and turn lives upside-down. But don't just pray and go about your day.
4.24.2015
I Wish My Students Knew...
A week ago, the story of a third grade teacher's assignment to her students, in which she asked them to write about what they wish she knew about them, went viral. Over the past couple of years innumerable op-ed pieces, political commentaries, and online debates have been written on the subject of effective teaching. I do not wish to add verbose rhetoric to this cultural conversation, but feel compelled to give voice to the following thoughts...
I wish my students knew that I care far more about their developing character than their ability to catalog instruments into families.
I wish my students knew that it breaks my heart when I notice one of them snicker at innocently chosen words, that could be misconstrued as innuendo, because her smirk reveals an innocence that has been shattered.
I wish my students knew that I hate the testing schedule too.
I wish my students knew that don't assign partners because I revel in their disappointment at not getting to choose, but because I don't want him being the last one picked... again.
I wish my students knew that I purposefully sacrifice a totally in-control class for a slightly more chaotic one that allows them to move and dance around because I know how hard it is to sit still.
I wish my students knew the sadness that overtakes my heart (after the initial, selfish relief) when I hear that one of my particularly challenging students has moved because of the reminder that the instability of their home life is what has created those challenging behaviors.
I wish my students knew that their ability to look me in the eye and express their thoughts is more important than their ability to remember an acronym for EGBDF.
I wish my students knew that I intentionally put my dignity aside in order to show them that it's okay to not take yourself so seriously.
I wish my students knew that earning "brownie points" has nothing to do with actual brownies.
I wish my students knew that, yes, I did in fact notice the boy who has fallen asleep in the corner and I am okay with that. Really. We're just playing eighth notes on a maraca, and he didn't eat lunch today or sleep last night.
I wish my students knew that I lose sleep over how to respond when you pretend to choke yourself to get attention. Or when you use the red marker under your nose to try to convince me that you were punched. Or when you immediately react to another child accidentally bumping you by punching that child in the stomach.
I wish my students knew that I lose sleep over these things because I legitimately worry that you are going to be arrested by the time you are in middle school due to the violent patterns you are setting for yourself now. I lose sleep because I am certain that you are setting yourself on this kind of path because this type of violence is normal in your life.
I wish my students knew that I pray for them on my drive to work.
I wish my students knew that I have a "Smile File" that I keep their precious notes (even if I can't read them) and pictures in and these things touch my soul.
I wish that my students knew that yes, of course, it is always okay for you to give me a hug. Always.
I wish that my students knew that I loathe the myriad of detrimental effects to their generation caused by my generation's obsession with the self-esteem movement.
I wish that my students knew that I love them too much to affirm their distracting and horrendous behavior choices by giving them the attention they crave. Even though it drives me up the wall.
I wish my students knew that I hate the phrase "Do I have to sit next to her?"
I wish that my students knew that their bodies are more resilient than they think and a hangnail is not a legitimate reason to need to visit the nurse or have a screaming fit.
I wish my students knew that my ultimate goal is not that they can match pitch, keep a steady beat, define "forte," locate a time signature, show me the correct solfege hand signs, or hold a mallet correctly because in a few years, they might not even remember me or anything they did in their elementary school music class. My goal is that they love music. That it becomes part of them. That they want to pursue it on their own. That they enjoy it.
I wish my students knew that I care about them having a quality education, but I also want them to enjoy being kids with active, creative imaginations.
I wish my students knew that I don't teach primarily because I love music, but because I love them.
I wish my students knew that I care far more about their developing character than their ability to catalog instruments into families.
I wish my students knew that it breaks my heart when I notice one of them snicker at innocently chosen words, that could be misconstrued as innuendo, because her smirk reveals an innocence that has been shattered.
I wish my students knew that I hate the testing schedule too.
I wish my students knew that don't assign partners because I revel in their disappointment at not getting to choose, but because I don't want him being the last one picked... again.
I wish my students knew that I purposefully sacrifice a totally in-control class for a slightly more chaotic one that allows them to move and dance around because I know how hard it is to sit still.
I wish my students knew the sadness that overtakes my heart (after the initial, selfish relief) when I hear that one of my particularly challenging students has moved because of the reminder that the instability of their home life is what has created those challenging behaviors.
I wish my students knew that their ability to look me in the eye and express their thoughts is more important than their ability to remember an acronym for EGBDF.
I wish my students knew that I intentionally put my dignity aside in order to show them that it's okay to not take yourself so seriously.
I wish my students knew that earning "brownie points" has nothing to do with actual brownies.
I wish my students knew that, yes, I did in fact notice the boy who has fallen asleep in the corner and I am okay with that. Really. We're just playing eighth notes on a maraca, and he didn't eat lunch today or sleep last night.
I wish my students knew that I lose sleep over how to respond when you pretend to choke yourself to get attention. Or when you use the red marker under your nose to try to convince me that you were punched. Or when you immediately react to another child accidentally bumping you by punching that child in the stomach.
I wish my students knew that I lose sleep over these things because I legitimately worry that you are going to be arrested by the time you are in middle school due to the violent patterns you are setting for yourself now. I lose sleep because I am certain that you are setting yourself on this kind of path because this type of violence is normal in your life.
I wish my students knew that I pray for them on my drive to work.
I wish my students knew that I have a "Smile File" that I keep their precious notes (even if I can't read them) and pictures in and these things touch my soul.
I wish that my students knew that yes, of course, it is always okay for you to give me a hug. Always.
I wish that my students knew that I loathe the myriad of detrimental effects to their generation caused by my generation's obsession with the self-esteem movement.
I wish that my students knew that I love them too much to affirm their distracting and horrendous behavior choices by giving them the attention they crave. Even though it drives me up the wall.
I wish my students knew that I hate the phrase "Do I have to sit next to her?"
I wish my students knew that my ultimate goal is not that they can match pitch, keep a steady beat, define "forte," locate a time signature, show me the correct solfege hand signs, or hold a mallet correctly because in a few years, they might not even remember me or anything they did in their elementary school music class. My goal is that they love music. That it becomes part of them. That they want to pursue it on their own. That they enjoy it.
I wish my students knew that I care about them having a quality education, but I also want them to enjoy being kids with active, creative imaginations.
I wish my students knew that I don't teach primarily because I love music, but because I love them.
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