Field Trip Frustrations

I always was a big fan of field trips.

I mean really, who isn't?

You get out of school for a day.

You get to sit next to your best friend on a school bus.

You get to wear a cool t-shirt.

And, my personal favorite part, you get to eat a sack lunch.

Capri-suns were my jam.

And I got to go on a lot of cool field trips when I was in elementary school.

I went to the zoo.

I got to see plays.

I even got to sing Christmas Carols at a Publix.

Which was made even cooler when the bakery gave us free cookies.

So, when they told us in the fourth grade that we were going on a field trip, I was pumped.

I waited anxiously, hands gripping the edge of my desk.

Where were we going to go?

What were we going to do?

What was going to be inside of that sack lunch?

And you can imagine my surprise, and my disappointment, when I was told we were going to go on a hike.

A hike, in nature.

A hike , that involved physical activity.

As a very large, very overweight bookworm of a ten year old, this was not exactly on the top of my priority list.

But, at least we would still get a sack lunch.

So the day came.

Field Trip Day.

We all put on our matching t-shirts, boarded the buses, and headed down the road to Kennesaw Mountain, a Marietta  must see, complete with cannons "from" the Civil War.

And as we unloaded the buses, made sure our tennis shoes were tied, and had a last minute bathroom break, the teacher informed us-

"Today, we are going to have a very special job. Today, we are going to have one student that is going to lead us on our hike. This job is extremely important, and I have chosen to give this job to"

A long pause, for effect, our 10 year old breathes baited and waiting

"Katie Johnson!"

I was shocked.

I was thrilled.

I was confused.

Why was I, the least athletic person in my class, the girl who always got picked last for dodgeball, the girl that cried in front of the entire grade because she couldn't hoolahoop, getting picked to be the Lewis and Clark of Cheatham Hill Elementary?

Confused or not, I was ready to lead with honor.

I tightened my Keds, pulled up my elastic waisted shorts and started on the hike.

Two minutes later, I was huffing and puffing.

Over my wheezing, I heard another student ask the guide from the Visitor Center,

"Why did Katie get to lead?"

The guide whispered, loud enough so only this other student ( and my eavesdropping ears) could hear;

"Because we have to put the slowest person in the front. That way they set the pace for the whole group".

I wasn't picked because I was the smartest.

I wasn't picked because I was the fastest.

I was picked because I was the slowest.

I was picked because I was just that bad.

And while this moment was a humiliating one in my childhood, sometimes it helps to think about how the Lord can use even the worst person to prove what an amazing God He is.

Paul, one of Jesus' disciples, wasn't chosen because he was good, the star religious pupil in the time.

Paul, before he came face to face with Jesus, was actually the opposite of good.

Paul actually hated the Christians, and persecuted them every chance he could get.

But then, when he met Jesus, his life was flipped around.

And in 1st Timothy, a letter Paul is writing from jail because of his beliefs, he says,

¹⁵ Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. ¹⁶ But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. 

God chose Paul not because he was good,

Not because he was the smartest,

Not because he was the fastest.

God chose Paul, because he was the worst of the worst.

Because he needed Jesus the most,

And because when people looked at Paul they could say,

"Wow, look at what his life looked like before- and look at it now. What made such a difference?"

And everyone would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it came from a face to face encounter with Jesus Christ.

Our God is a God that not only loves the weak,

and the bad,

and the slow,

and the messed up,

but chooses to change their lives and use them.

And that is something that I find great hope in.

Because I know that sometimes I am weak,

and bad,

and slow, 

and messed up.

But I'm also loved.

And chosen.

And now able to climb Kennesaw Mountain without having a small heart attack. 

Wocket In My Pocket

I admit it.

I don't always like to follow rules.

Rules seem so constraining.

And confining.

And they make winning a scavenger hunt really difficult.

But, I'm also a little too scared to break the rules completely.

So, I find a way to bend them.

Restaurant too expensive?

Buy a kids meal.

Don't want to spend money on new music?

Go to the library.

All those CD's are free.

Laundry taking way too long?

Throw all those colors in together.

That's what they make cold water for.

I don't break the rules completely- I just find a way to make them work for me.

And most of the time, after I've bent these rules a little too much, I start to feel guilty.

But nothing haunts my concise like the Wocket Incident of 1994.

Miss Montalvo, if you're reading this, I need to apologize in advance.

I was in Kindergarten.

And as every good Kindergarten teacher does, Miss Montalvo had set up a system to track our behavior.

But she was not the boring type.

Red light, yellow light and green light just wouldn't do.

Miss Montalvo used Wocket's in our Pockets.

Now, for those of you who haven't read this Dr Seuss classic, all you really need to know is at the beginning of every week, each student started out with a certain number of "wockets" (aka slips of paper) in their "pockets"( aka cubbies) and had to remove a wocket every time a classroom rule was broken.

If a student had any wockets left at the end of the week, they got to go to the beloved treasure box, full of candy, games, and every McDonald's Happy Meal toy the room Mom could get her hands on.

And if, at the end of the week, you were the unlucky kid that had no wockets left, you not only didn't get to go to the treasure box, but you had a note sent home to your parents.

I remember it like it was yesterday.

I was walking down the hall.

You were supposed to be quiet in line.

I knew that.

But I just had to tell Tia about the newest CareBear I got.

I thought I could be sneaky.

I thought I could whisper.

"Katie Johnson".

My little bowlcut head whipped around.

"You know you're not supposed to be talking in line. When we're back in class, go take a wocket out of your pocket".

I made the Kindergarten walk of shame towards my cubby.

And then I saw the horror.

I only had one wocket left.

I couldn't get a letter sent home.

And I really wanted to go to that treasure box.

So I did what any rule bender would do.

I took the wocket out as I was told.

And then, when Miss Montalvo's back was turned, I put it right back in.

Technically, I followed directions.

Just not completely.

I think I look at the way I live as a Christian in the same way.

And when I read this verse in Ephesians tonight, I was struck by how badly I do at holding up my end of the bargain sometimes.

Because as Christians we are called to

² Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

It doesn't say be a just little bit humble.

It doesn't say be just a little bit gentle.

It doesn't say be just  a little bit patient.

It says be completely humble.

Be completely gentle.

Be completely patient.

I think that sometimes I let myself off the hook too easily.

Sometimes I tend to think - 

"Well, he person really makes me mad, so all I can do is not slap him in the mouth. That's being gentle enough".

Or

"She should know how to do this. I wouldn't have to be patient if she knew what she was doing".

But, it just doesn't work that way.

We are called to a higher standard.

We are called to be different then the world around us.

And if we are made complete in Christ, then that completeness should radiate and permeate every way in which we interact with people.

And while that may seem hard,

And it may seem scary,

we serve a big enough God that with Him, nothing is impossible.

And when it comes to the way we treat those people that He loves so dearly,

Breaking the rules doesn't cut it this time.

And Miss Montalvo, if you read this, that Ronald McDonald toy was just not worth it. 

Fear Is Not An Option

I have a problem with failure.

Actually, I have more then a problem with failure.

 I hate failure.

And I think it all stems back to my failed attempts and several different sports through my childhood.

Gymnastics?

Front rolled into a wall. Never came back into the class.

Dance?

Total lack of coordination put a damper on my tap dancing routines.

Horseback riding?

Have you ever seen a fat child in riding pants? Not a pretty picture. And those helmets never fit my head properly.

Softball?

Which attempt? When I played as a child,picking flowers in the outfield wasn't all it cracked up to be.

When I played as an adult, I was benched in a rec league.

No one gets benched in a rec league.

But I somehow managed to.

And after every failure, after every strike out, after every ugly turn, I felt one thing.

Sadness.

Disappointment.

And I hated feeling like that.

I hated feeling like I had no control over what I was doing in my life.

So I started to make plans.

And do things I knew I would succeed at.

And attempt things that were safe and feasible.

Even now, when I feel like my faith has grown so immensely, God puts me in situations that makes me face some really hard facts.

And the hard fact is that I'm scared.

I am scared of failure.

I'm scared of the unknown.

And, to be completely transparent, I'm scared of  what the Lord might have planned for me.

I'm scared that it won't fit into my plans.

I'm scared that I won't succeed.

I'm scared they'll take me somewhere I do not want to go.

I am scared.

That's the long and short of it.

And I have been battling that the past few days.

And today, my daily devotion spoke right to that fear.

Actually, God kind of slapped me in the face with it.

It is a verse that I've heard a million times.

But, it's one that I needed to hear a million and one times today.

²⁵ “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? ²⁶ Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?

At the end of the day, I serve a God that watches over everything on this Earth.

And He values me.

And loves me.

And my fear is the equivalent of looking that same great God in the face and saying,

You don't know what you're doing.

You don't have my best interest at heart.

You may not do what you promised.

Basically, I'm calling God a liar.

Yeah, I said it.

And that's hard for me to admit.

It's hard for me to own up to the fact that I think those facts about the God I say I follow wholeheartedly,

But I still, struggle with putting my plans aside and accepting the ultimate truth.

That my God is not a liar.

He is a provider.

And a father.

And a caregiver.

And His plans are the ones I can put my hope in.

Even if they don't match up with my own personal desires.

And that will be hard to handle.

And I'll probably shed a few tears.

But, at the end of the day, if I know that God considers me valuable,

Won't His plans be the best that He can provide for me?

And even if I do fail,

And even if I do cry,

And even if I have to move to a city I despise,

God doesn't look at me as a failure.

He looks at me of something of value.

Someone He loves.

And someone He will continue to provide for.

Falling...Fall On?

I'll admit it- sometimes, I have some trust issues.

Trust is a scary thing.

People tell you they're going to do something.

They either do it, or they don't.

And suddenly, the control, and the answer is taken out of your own hand, and put into the hands of someone else.

Someone you may not know.

Someone you may not like.

Someone you may not understand.

I can link these trust issues back to one specific event in my life.

Camp Misty Mountain.

1999.

The trust fall.

Now, for those of you individuals lucky enough to have never experienced this glorious outdoor activity, let me break it down for you.

You get up on a platform, usually 4 to 5 feet of of the ground.

You put your heels on the edge of that platform.

You cross your arms across your chest.

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and call out those fateful words

"Falling!"

And you wait, until you hear,

"Fall on!"

And then, with all of the trust and courage you can muster up, you fall backwards, off of the platform, into the arms of your team waiting with strategically placed arms, standing below you.

Now, imagine this scenario, with nine year old me, weighing 180 pounds, standing up on that platform.

Waiting to fall into the 90 pound arms of my peers below.

You can understand why the trust wasn't exactly there, can't you?

You can understand why I started to cry, can't you?

You can understand why I had to climb down from the platform with my head hanging in shame, can't you?

Of course you can. Every sane and rational person would.

I understood that I was overweight.

I understood that most of my fellow campers could barely lift  a log, let alone a girl double their size.

I understood that the likelihood of me, falling through their arms was extremely probable.

So, I did what I understood.

I got off of the platform.

I still do that now sometimes, when it comes to my relationship with God.

I try to make some sort of semblance of understanding with the situations in my own life.

I try to rely on the knowledge that I have gathered.

I try to make sense of this crazy world myself.

But then, I am truly reminded about what a trustworthy God we serve.

In Proverbs 3, it tells us

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
⁶ in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.

And of course, that makes sense. 

If we rely on God, he'll help us through. 

If we trust in Him, our path will be straight.

But then, Solomon ( the writer of Proverbs) really blows God's credentials out of the water.

By wisdom the Lord laid the earth’s foundations,
    by understanding he set the heavens in place;

I need to trust in the Lord's wisdom in my job search, because it is the same wisdom that created the world.

That shaped the mountains.

That poured the oceans.

I need to lean on God's understanding for His plan in my life, because it is the same understanding that set the heavens in place.

That placed the North Star.

That designed Orion's belt.

This God of great wisdom and understanding is the same God that is offering to take hold of my life, take a weight off my shoulders, and direct my path in the best way possible.

And if that isn't worth taking a trust fall for, I'm not sure what is.