My Other Side

 

This morning I awoke to what sounded like a battle raging in our boys’ play room with Michael yelling out, “No! No! No! Noooo!!!”

“Benjamin! What’s happening?”

A patter of steps ran down the hall towards me and a calm collected voice, greatly contrasting the struggle from the other room, followed, “Well Papa… My other side was pulling things from Michael and not being nice to him. But my nice side is here now, so it’s okay.”

My initial reaction was something along the lines of “What?” Then I gave him a series of follow-up questions to determine if he had developed a split personality in the night without my knowing. As the words settled in I saw his statement for what it was. He was blame-shifting. Saying that really he was inherently good with just a temporary moment of wrongdoing. He was finding a scapegoat. On one hand I thought he was pretty creative in his excuse, while on the other hand I was mortified at the ramifications of this belief.

In a similar fashion I’ve noticed in Kenya a stark contrast between the more laid back easy-going daily lifestyle, visible in all aspects of life, save one… “Kenyan driving.” My perception is that Kenya’s easygoing attitude must be locked up in the boot, or trunk, as the ignition starts. Lines painted on a road are merely markers for the birds flying overhead in case their internal GPS is not working. Laid back becomes aggressive. Traffic laws become suggestions. Thoughtfulness turns selfish.

Intellectually we all know that passing on a blind mountainous road into oncoming traffic is not wise, however, feelings of hopeful immortality accelerate through the brain. The engine is now running on adrenaline and emotion. The other side of driving has taken control and held the brain hostage. We know it’s not right, but there we are speeding along hell-bent on doing whatever we want. Two distinct cultures. As with Benjamin the struggle is not so much right or wrong as it is about a belief system and lifestyle.

With such ease we switch from one side to the other in our lives. Almost as natural as breathing. I don’t really think we have an angel and a devil sitting on our shoulder feeding us thoughts and suggestions, and I won’t get Freudian here either, but we do seem to have this daily internal struggle battling out in our lives.

Paul wrote in Romans*, loosely paraphrased here, ” I do what I don’t want to do and I don’t do what I want to do.” It wasn’t an excuse, rather it was a statement of his two sides and the need to rely on God to put our “driving culture” in park. If our sin culture is driving us along in life we’re in for an eternal collision unless we sincerely rely on the divine scapegoat to save us.

Benjamin went on to apologize and ask forgiveness for his actions. I believe his brother was sincere when he said “I forgive you brother.”

*Romans 7:19-20

Pretzels and Posters

“The pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity. The optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” -Winston Churchill

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year…It’s the hap happiest season of all.” Yes, it’s that time of year again. Teachers are prancing around with excitement, humming tunes in their head as they pour through curriculum, hang up posters, position student desks in the preconceived perfect place, and pray earnestly. Ah, yes. The new school year is at hand.

Honestly, there are mixed feelings about this time of the year, and with good reason. Strangers are still unmet friends in disguise, and many dear friends have relocated. Change has sprouted forth over the past months and its unknown fruit is still a mystery. An atmosphere of excitement and anxiety will exude forth from students as they walk the sidewalks, halls, and classrooms the first few days of this new year. For me it means juggling life and two boys each day without the professional know how of my wife. Some will look back while others look forward. Pessimists tend to mourn the loss of summer while optimists generally envision possibilities. Yes, it’s that time of the year again.

A new school year, always full of ups and downs, is very much like the boys eating pretzels in Kenya. They greatly enjoy licking the individual salt crystals off of each pretzel before munching the rest with dutiful enthusiasm. What’s the big deal you ask? Well, the pretzels are often unavailable and when they do arrive they are usually stale. In fact a waft of staleness often assaults the nose when opening the exported item. Their crunch has more of a firm crumbly softness. Yet, the boys seem to notice only the positives of having them with their tea. Even in the mundane the lads have found joy. The salt makes it all worthwhile.

Taking pause from helping my wife get her classroom ready, while the boys ate stale pretzels, it seemed to me that perspective and the right attitude are so necessary for success in her classroom. My mind was in reflection mode in part due to pretzels but also to posters I was placing on the walls. Of the dozen or so posters in her room there is a clear theme screaming out to all who enter. The central message of the posters, and I’m sure her teaching as well, is “Don’t give up!” An underlying motif of the posters is that it’s your attitude that will propel you onward or drag you down. Both good messages for a Calculus teacher to transfer to her students.

It’s so easy to see the staleness of our surroundings, forgetting about the crystals of joy infused throughout every aspect of life. Seeing the boys munching on their pretzels extracting goodness and happiness in spite of the less than ideal circumstances, I know they have the makings of the right stuff. A new school year, or a new day, is always a good time to check the attitude and make sure our perspective is moving towards the pretzels instead of fearing the staleness.

 

Traveling Waste

 

While cruising down the highway my wife made a comment that stopped me cold in my thought process. Rarely am I at a loss for words but there I sat stunned as we rolled down highway 61.

“You know?” she said, pausing to give me time to read her thoughts, “We haven’t seen random people peeing by the side of the road for two weeks now.” Not sure if this is something she’s missing about Kenya or is merely relieved. Where does a conversation go from there?

It wasn’t hard to see how my home culture is currently addressing this issue. From the farmer’s fields to city construction and maintenance trailers hauling around all basic needs for the day. The solution is the Portable Potty. I’m not opposed to showing up at a venue, be it anything from a campground to an outdoor music festival, and using the world-famous commode. In fact it’s actually comforting to know that someone has planned for my basic needs to be met. What I find of interest is the traveling Porta-Potty. For years I’ve been camping and hiking and have always abided by the “pack it in pack it out” philosophy but there is something about a traveling potty on the back of a trailer that is different to me. It just screams out “absurd.”

It struck me funny that these people are driving around from place to place hauling all of their waste with them. The logic behind the concept is sound but the reality still seems funny. Maybe not as funny as Benjamin screaming out from the back of the van, “There’s a potty Papa! Another potty Papa!” Whether funny or disturbing, it is atypical none-the less. I’m sure it is all just as sadly “funny” to God as He sees our enthusiasm in traveling with our sinful waste and garbage that should have been discarded miles ago.

For years I have scoffed at the absurdity of Lot’s wife turning back to look at her beloved desolation. I mean… really? Why cling to the troubles and waste of the past? God clearly spelled it out that we can just walk away. It’s an amazing gift we have been given to simply hand it over and walk away from our unsanitary past. Perhaps the real absurdity is that we know this, yet continue to haul our rubbish around hoping not to leave a pillar of salt as our legacy. “We were never meant to carry it beyond the cross.”*

* Dear Younger Me-by Mercyme