I’m quite confident that many people have their togas in a real twist over the seemingly derogatory comment about Scholar phase on Wednesday.
Let me clarify.
Scholar phase is, indeed, a noble goal for all pursuing a Leadership or Liberal Arts Education.
However, it is not an end all.
I think that people have a glorified position, possibly even an infatuation for Scholar phase…
because there is finally something tangible…
something you can measure.
We, in our wonderful American culture, tend to default to what is measurable much of the time, don’t we?
Faith is definitely tough.
Core and Love of Learning take a lot of it.
Faith, that is.
I hope that you can read between the lines in my own “riveting” story here…
(Hey, who’s that coughing?!)
And see some principles that will help and encourage you…
both with your children and yourself.
p.s. In case it’s been rough lately, or you’re up nights…
I’ll provide a running commentary in italized, colored print when patterns and principles appear…
because the running commentary piece seems to be part of what I do best.
(Is anyone else REALLY still out there?…or am I speaking to an “empty room”?)
As I began my descent into Seattle last week, and looked out the airplane window…
I was filled with nostalgia for this area that I had grown up in…
and at the same time saddened.
It had been too long since I’d been home…
and the current circumstances were less than desirable.
Inevitable, but still undesirable.
As I made my way through the once all-too-familiar-but-you’ve-stayed-away-too-long-and-we’ve-expanded terminal…
I was thoughtful about the current state of events.
This wouldn’t be easy…
but it is always good to come home.
To reflect on what was…
what has shaped and molded you into who you are…
what has changed.
And to look at where you and everyone else are going…
so that you can evaluate some things…
which allows you to stay the course with greater effectiveness.
It was pouring down rain.
Not an uncommon ambiance this time of year in the Pacific Northwest.
I greeted DeDe with a huge hug.
Once we were on the freeway, heading towards home, the tears began to flow freely…
coupled with heavy sobs.
“I’m so glad you came.”
“I couldn’t do this without you.”
“I get so much strength from your presence.”
I reached across the seat and took her hand.
I commented quietly, ” For heaven’s sake, where else would I be?”
Her tears seemed to mingle with the pounding of the rain on the windshield…
and the methodical sound of the wipers going back and forth, back and forth…
When I was in the middle of the third grade…
my father was asked to take the pastorate in Graham, Washington.
In my always outspoken, rather vocal opinion… ( yes, even then)
this was a nearly catastrophic turn of events.
You see, I was really something.
I was a part of what C.S. Lewis refers to as the Inner Ring.
I was an uber-urban, “high society”, city loving, pastor’s child, that had definitely arrived.
At least in the privacy of my own mind…
where all truth formulates when you’re between 5-10, right?
I was chic, “cultured”…
and “too good” to be relegated against my will to a glorified cow pasture.
I mean, pleeaasse.
I shared these thoughts again and again with my city slicker friends…
every chance I had…
back at our old, large, more cultured “city church…”
which I actually visited often at first….
to help “ease the transition.”
Now, others may have seen things just a tad bit differently from their perspective…
my own father included.
He himself had grown up on a farm…
and thought that farm life was a most respectable perspective from which to see and formulate life.
To give you a solid, no-holds-barred perspective on the level of my chic, sophistication…
take a look at this picture.
I’m warning you, it’s a real reality check.
I’m the one on the right.
Ready?
I knew you weren’t…
but there is absolutely no adequate preparation for a sight such as this.
In the history of the world, has there ever been another time...
when some brilliant equally dim-witted individual has combined battleship grey with brown plaid…
and white knee high sox…
And lived to blog about it?
Oh, I was something else alright!
And I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that there was one eternal overriding truth…
And this was it…
THIS girl…this nasty, mean, snotty, aloof, muck- boot- wearin’…
cow-lovin’,farm-hand little chickadee…
in my new Sunday School class…
in MY DAD’S new church…
was out to get me.
No…
it was worse.
She wanted me dead….
D-E-A-D.
I just knew it.
So there.
to be continued…
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