Spiritual Sleep Paralysis

"I'm leaving for work," my wife comes around to my side of the king size bed and leans in to kiss me.

If it's not a king size bed, it feels like one. For some reason, it feels different in the summer - falling into our bed is like doing a trust fall into an oasis of feathers that don't itch, but massage all of your muscles and sore spots. And it's not weird because they're feathers, not the hands of a leper. 

I look on my phone that never made it to the nightstand last night; fortunately, I did plug it in before my eyes became too heavy to stay awake. 

6:58am.

I would have already gotten out of the shower and dabbing my neck with cologne if it were just another average Thursday morning workday. But it's not an average Thursday morning workday - it's summer. My mind faintly recalls a time when waking up before this time was not only possible, but frequently accomplished, but my eyelids don't remember and don't care. Back to bed I go.

Summer break Thursdays for non-working teachers hit different, and every summer, I am one of them. Two years into my teaching career, I was content not working over summers, mainly for health reasons (pouring myself into my career for 180 school days can be grueling and time consuming for most of the school year), but partially because my summer breaks consist of six short weeks of vacation. The school I spent a majority of my career teaching in operated on a year-round schedule, where our fall, winter, and spring breaks are stretched out an extra week while our summer breaks are shorter than the other schools in the area and in general. Therefore, it wouldn't make much sense to me to work elsewhere for six weeks and then jump right back into another school year.

The moment day one of summer break begins, my wife wakes me every morning to kiss me just like my body kisses early mornings goodbye as I melt into the gigantic bed. During the school year, the roles are reversed as I am often the one waking her up. I often wonder during the summer weeks if I have any control over waking up earlier than 8am, though. Even sitting up to kiss my wife goodbye on a summer break feels like my head is filled with concrete and my lips have been in Han Solo's Cryo Freeze chamber for the first 30 years of my existence. 

The best my body can give me before 8am on summer mornings is five minutes - enough time to mumble my well-wishes and encouragement to my wife as she departs for work right after kissing her goodbye, feed the dogs if my second half hasn't already done so, and play half of Wordle on my phone before going back to bed and sleeping through three alarms.

I joke that I "took a nap until 10am" to convince myself that I didn't sleep in as if the five minutes I was up before my wife left for work counted as being awake. Though I joke about this version of Josh, I actually hate dealing with my half-dead body over the summer.

Every school year, I have two or three kids in my class who will sit in the back of the room, with their elbow resting on their desk and their arm stretching up to their chin where their hand rests. Their not listening, but looking at the top of my head as if a giant cockroach were on it playing a fiddle in front of an audience of children cockroaches. They might not be imagining a musically talented cockroach playing fiddler on the forehead, but they're certainly not focusing on learning about the area of an irregular shape. 

Once summer begins and my body tells me there's no reason to wake up early, I become that daydreaming student. My mind drifts to what it would feel like to wake up at 7:30 and spend my summer day being productive from sunup to sundown. Instead, my body disconnects from what my mind wants and wakes up at 10:30 - at that point, my wife has 2.5 hours of work under her belt. Can you imagine what could be done with 2.5 hours, other than sleep?

Give yourself a break, Josh; it's ok to sleep in every once in a while. The problem is, dear reader, is this happens EVERY DAY of summer. Eventually my mind and body have to be sick of it and use the summer to wake up when normal working adults wake up. 

After having an ounce of empathy for me, your next thought might be to change your sleep schedule. Go to bed earlier! You say, going into problem-solving mode as if I didn't think of this concept before. I have tried this idea, and on top of that, I have also gone to bed past 1am on a worknight - doesn't matter, you can't convince my summer break brain to wake up before 8am if it doesn't have to. I have taught a full day of school on 3 hours of sleep before - I wouldn't recommend making a habit out of this, but it's in these moments I note that it has nothing to do with what time I go to bed, but what time of the year it is. 

If I'm being honest with myself, I sometimes feel this way spiritually too. I tell myself I will kickstart my relationship with God the same I would a 2008 Toyota Camry with a bad battery. If I just open my Bible to the right book, read the right chapter from the right Christian book, listen to the right podcast, or find the right friend to confide in at the right coffee shop, I will successfully replace the bad battery in my life with a new one that will make my walk with Jesus better.

Me next to my 2008 Toyota Camry in 2018

Or worse. I sleep in. I get it, we all need sleep. If you need a swift reminder of this fact, go back to your college days when you were often confused about what your degree was in because you were a master at pulling all-nighters. Forget your bachelor's degree, you were getting your PHD in managing your life on an average of 28 minutes of sleep. 

Like any habit, our bodies, mind, and behavior normalize what we commit to focusing on in our lives. When I was in college, I normalized getting through the day on minimal sleep because I did it so often. The worse part about getting minimal sleep is not necessarily the physical effects, but the gravitational pull this habit has on you when it becomes a daily occurrence. Once you're neck-deep in the habit, you fail to recognize the unhealthy effect it has on you unless someone uses their entire being to pull it out of you.

Though the literal act of sleeping is a necessity, Paul warns us of the effect of using God's promise of salvation as a reason to shrug off the significance of spiritual practices. Why? Because our fight is not against flesh and blood, but something much more powerful. If you were a soldier in the middle of war and you decided to grab a few Zs, you would not only be a threat to your comrades, but you would put your own life and the mission at risk as well.

According to 1 Thessalonians 5:6-8, "Therefore let us not sleep, as others do, but let us watch and be sober." When we consider the context of who Paul is writing to - the church in Thessalonica - it makes  sense. As we live under the protection of the knowledge of our salvation, we can easily become apathetic towards building a habit out of spiritual practices. I already believe in God and I am confident of my place in Heaven, we are prone to think. Matthew Henry Commentary tells us this should be a primary reason to not slacken in our walk with Christ: "...If we have hope in salvation, let us take heed of any thing that would shake our trust in the Lord." 

As someone who has a distaste for early mornings (according to my body), the biggest draw towards sleeping in is the comfort of my silk pillow, the warm blanket, and the soft mattress my body rests on. If it were a school day, and I allowed my desire to sleep in to trump my responsibilities as an educator, I would jeopardize my current position and potentially my career altogether because of my inability to show up, let alone prepare for, the students I am about to teach that day. Me prioritizing sleep over career would categorize me as ineffective in a field where so many children, parents, and co-workers are counting on me to be distinguished at what I do. Furthermore, if I shrugged off sleeping through my responsibilities with the excuse that I hope my kids can learn on their own without my assistance, I would most certainly be fired from my job and probably never get a good recommendation for the next one.

Similarly, if I rely too heavily upon the hope of my salvation and do not respond to this hope with faithfulness and allegiance to my duty as a Christ-follower - a disciple - I am sleeping on the job. Hope, used properly, partners with preparation in action. And what does hope look like in action? By how we live in community with others as ambassadors of the Truth. Our motivation, if not just to keep ourselves in pursuit of our connection with God, should be to "set a good example one before another" (Matthew Henry Commentary) and to encourage one another in preparation for Christ's return (See Hebrews 10:24-25). How can we help one another stay the course when we're using our time sleeping instead of staying prepared and focused on our duty as Christ-followers? Similar to the phrase, "I can't take care of you if I can't take care of myself," we need diligently stay awake in our faith in order to encourage others in theirs.

Hebrews 6:12 does an excellent job of summarizing the power of community and our duty to be wide awake in our spiritual walk into one succinct statement: "We do not want you to become lazy, but to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised." In other words, don't let apathy prevent you from following in the footsteps of the faithful before us by imitating them in order to inherit what was promised to us.

So, how do we avoid becoming another victim of spiritual sleep paralysis? 

First, we must recognize and admit that the battle is bigger than the physical. Ephesians 6:12 - "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms."

Second, we actively develop healthy habits that Jesus did to prepare ourselves for the bigger war being fought; Jesus fasted, Jesus prayed, Jesus spent time in the community and with his closest friends (he didn't isolate himself), Jesus remained obedient to God, and Jesus let the Word of God drive his mission (see Matthew 4 when he is tempted). In other words, do what Jesus did while he walked the earth. 

Third, do not give up! Often, I connect my circumstances to God's goodness rather than connect God's goodness to my circumstances. Our circumstances change like the weather - God is unchanging. Paul made it clear to the church of Galatia how he, Titus, and Barnabas and fought the spiritual war: "...we did not give up and submit to these people ['false brothers'] for even a moment" (Galatians 2:5). They did not give up, according to Paul, because they had a purpose, which was to preserve the Gospel for the Galatians. If we remain true to who we are under the eternal protection and unconditional love of Christ, not allowing our circumstances to sway our faith, we will be "strong and immovable" (1 Corinthians 15:58) in our allegiance to Christ. 

Like most aspects of our life, our decisions are a part of the cause-and-effect cycle. All of our reactions and responses are a result of the previous experiences we've had. Therefore, if we make our daily life decisions and place them through the filter of these three steps, the Holy Spirit will help us remain sober, vigilant, and diligent to our duty as disciples of Jesus.

Consider what Paul said to the Ephesians: 

"'Wake up, sleeper. Rise from the dead, and Christ will shine upon you.' Be careful, then, how you live - not as unwise, but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil."

So, the choice is yours. Will you sleep through your responsibilities, or embrace them and allow God to take you on an adventure with him?

Who Pooped? Two Strategies to Overcome Strongholds

  On April 24th, 2024, Diggs pooped in the house. It's easy to remember the date because the entire house smelled like a field full of manure - you know the smell.

And to make matters worse, no, Diggs never tells us. His face never does either - not even a low growl. If I pooped in the house and outside of the toilet bowl, I would at least growl at it.

Look no further than this before and after of Diggs as evidence.

Before me asking Diggs if he took a doo doo on the ground of the living room:

After me asking if he took a doo on the ground of the living room:

In the second photo, he believes his adorable looks will help us turn a blind eye to the atrocious crime he committed on this day.

Paul addressed the church of Corinth in one of his letters and said, "We do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ" (2 Corinthians 10:3-5). 

Sometimes, those strongholds Paul is referred to look a lot like Diggs and his poop incident before and after I ask him if he did the dirty deed or not - they are disguised as a struggle sent from God himself. Look no further than Job; one of the book's major themes is to not listen to your friends who misidentify a struggle as God's punishment. Jobs friends tried to convince him that his pain and suffering is a result of God's wrath over Job's misdeeds, when it was clear in the beginning of this story that Job was upright and as blameless as they come. Satan's design is to use strongholds as a means to distance from God, but plenty of strongholds are not designed to look like strongholds until you're waist-deep in it. From a distance, Diggs looks innocent until proven guilty. With Diggs' never-ending cuteness combined with his "I will remain silent until I get a lawyer" attitude, Amanda is much closer to believing I pooped on the living room rug than he did. 

It can be easy to believe lies about God when a rumor, difficulty, or impossible season seems to support that lie about Him, especially when the situation is so personal. Unfortunately, the moment we consider the world's "God" over the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the Bible, we are like a house built on sand, easily overtaken by the waves of the world.

So, how do we "demolish strongholds" that do a good job disguising themselves the way Diggs disguises his misdeed? 

1. We go through strict training of the mind - one of the foundations of our belief in God.

2. We use the power of self-discipline and discernment to act on those Biblical truths

Strict Training of the Mind:

Paul makes it clear that we are all competing in a race, and to win the race for the "crown that lasts forever," (1 Corinthians 9:25) we must go through strict training. How? First, we need to admit that our mind is just as important than any other muscle: we need to workout the mind to be filled with thoughts that bring us near to Jesus. We can't go to the gym and only workout the muscles that are visible to the world around us. The mind also needs proper exercise. 

Typically, when we think of the mind, we think of the thoughts that go in and out of it like a revolving door. While this is true, it also dictates much more than the thoughts that live inside of it.

Jennie Allen, from her award-winning book Get Out of Your Head, says this about the mind:

"Our emotions lead us to thoughts, those thoughts dictate our decisions, and our decisions determine our behaviors, and then our behaviors shape our relationships which lead back to our healthy or unhealthy thoughts."

In other words, appropriate attention and focus on giving the mind its proper nutrients will strengthen more than just your thoughts, but our emotions, decisions, behaviors, and our relationships too. Admitting that our mind needs to consistently be plugged into sources that strengthen it will help us focus on finding ways to feed it with intentionality and purpose.

Secondly, When we stray from those thoughts, it is important to partake in spiritual practices that reground us in the mind of Christ (fasting, prayer, Sabbath, surrounding yourself with Christian community, etc.). As a vital part of God's creation, it only makes sense to go back to the source to get filled up when our tank is empty and we're prone to the distractions Satan places in our path. Any one of the spiritual formation practices mentioned above will help us build the discernment we need to go to war against strongholds that oppose the will of God.

From Self-Discipline & Discernment to Action:

 

In one of Paul's letters to Timothy, he encourages him of this one simple truth: The Spirit of God within us gives us power, love, and self-discipline (2 Timothy 1:7). When we lean into this verse, we become mentally aware of the strongholds that Satan uses to remove us from the race. In one of his letters to a church in Galatia, Paul tells the people they were running a good race, "Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth" (Galatians 5:7)? Self-discipline and proper discernment will prevent you from drifting towards unbiblical truths that distance you from God. When your mind is distanced from God, so will your behavior, emotions, and actions. 

On the other hand, if you submit your thoughts to Christ and the Truth found in the Word, and remain consistent in keeping your mind focused on Him, he will continue to draw near to you as you draw near to Him (see James 4:7-8). Where self-discipline and discernment come in is when you're steadfast in your dedication to make Christ a priority in your mind, he will give you the discernment you need to make the right decisions when you are faced with a stronghold. 

When we embrace the journey of working out our mind to be in alignment with Christ, taking thoughts captive and making them obedient to Him, we can spot the source of the poop that tries to distance us from our Creator because as we give our minds over to Him, He gives us the strength, discipline, and discernment to take action against those strongholds.

Next time Satan uses a poopy situation to distance you from the truth, you'll know the source of the stink and how to clean it up because you have strategies that put you on the right side of the of the Spiritual Battle: right next to Christ as he fights with you.

From the Mountains to the Valleys - What Goes Up, Must Come Down

“…the real fight only begins when you’re away from the camp. Never relax so long as you’re in enemy territory. Never get drunk with freedom…for you never know who is lying in the bushes.”

This quote derives from The Auschwitz Escape, a historical fiction book by Joel C. Rosenberg about the courageous escape of two prisoners from the Auschwitz Concentration Camp* during World War II.

*To be abundantly clear up front, I am not comparing my own first-world difficulties to the horrors and atrocities a prisoner of Auschwitz experienced for years of their life. I am comparing my spiritual journey and the experiences that come with it to any camp that isolates you from the real world so you can gain experience in a particular area of your life that the camp provides, promotes, or dictates. It is purely coincidental that the quote comes from a book about the Holocaust.

One of the common phrases I heard in church circles growing up, especially as summer youth group trips wrapped up and we were a short three weeks away from the start of another school year, was “the spiritual high won’t last forever”, “you will eventually come down from the mountaintop and back to reality,” or “the hard part is not being on the spiritual high, but what you do when you get back to the routine.”

It wasn’t just a warning to all of us young Christians trying to understand our newfound faith or rediscover it in new ways, but foreshadowing about the difficulties to come. I still remember those pep talks, with 72 of preteens and young adults crammed in one room whose layout more closely resembled a cheap motel’s Continental Breakfast space than a place to gather large groups. The theme of the meeting was designed for worship, prayer, and reflection, but most of the conversation stemmed around what to expect after this “mountaintop high” ends and we’re faced with secular reality again.

For the entirety of these summer youth conferences, I recall how invincible I felt because of the loads of inspiration I gobbled up like a starving child. There was no way I would fall victim to my old habits, no way, and most importantly, nothing would stand between my strengthened relationship with God. How could I? I am a new creation, and the emotions I felt on these trips were evidence that no obstacle Satan threw my way would cause me to crumble! I repented, I prayed harder than I’ve ever prayed before, and I memorized worship songs declaring my commitment to the Lord while filling my notebook with sermon notes from Francis Chan, so no worldly desire was strong enough to overcome my bond with Jesus after this. On top of all of this, I had a testimony ready to share with my church upon, my return from traveling out of state. Boy, was I naïve, even if the experiences I had were authentic.

Don’t get me wrong, all of the spiritual things I did on these trips did strengthen me spiritually and did prepare me for the “valleys” of life, but it still didn’t adequately address the pressing question: “What do we do after our supernatural experience is over and we’re thrown back into the world full of people who don’t share the same revelations you did?” When you go on these youth trips, you’re likely one of the 95% of the group who shares the same core thoughts about God. When you reenter society, you become the minority who believes Christ is your Savior and best friend. Will the foundation from the youth conference inspiration I collected in my heart and mind be strong enough for the primetime fight I would endure in the world's boxing ring?

For me personally, these youth group experiences on the mountaintop with God not only gave me steady doses of healthy community and shed more light on who the Creator is, but it affirmed that my choice to pursue Him back was the best choice I ever made in this life. They affirmed me enough to go into the fight outside of the camp with more resources, relationships with other believers, and a strengthened resolve to follow Christ faithfully. So, yes, I would say I did feel strongly that the mountaintop experiences did help me face the giants of the secular world. However, I couldn't face them alone.

With the right people in place, found within these camp experiences, life outside of the four-walls of camp didn't feel like a nightmare or a path to inevitable spiritual destruction because the church community I found myself would enter that same real world as me. However, if I didn't fill my days outside of the camp with accountability and those who pour into my spiritual wellbeing, I would likely be swallowed up by how the world defines God, not how the Word defines Him.

While danger is found hiding in the thick brush waiting to pounce on you, discipleship through accountability is walking through it with you, chopping through the brush with a machete to expose the enemy who is lying there. The machete is the Word of God, what He says about you, and how to respond to anything that does not sound like the truth, and discipleship is the community you're a part of holding that machete. It takes discipline, training, and consistent loyalty to seeking wisdom in the midst of the distractions and lies of the world.

• You don't need God.
• There is no way God exists with all of this evil in the world.
• If God does exist, he's not a good God.
• Just do you. God will only restrict you from doing what you want.
• Why should you follow a God who hurts you? 
• What's the point in being a Christian when you're doing just fine without him?
• You'll be happier doing what you want instead of following God and all of his rules

Some of these lies come from influences around you, and some of them occur in your mind when your experiences with the world don't align with the God you thought you believed in. Either way, without the community we are told to "spur on with love and good deeds, not giving up meeting [with]...but encouraging one another" (Hebrews 10:24-25), we will likely be persuaded by the darkness of the world and taken captive by it - by those lying in the bushes.

When I was a college student attending a university of less than 3,000 students and preparing for my final years of education before embarking on my new career as a classroom teacher, a common phrase I overheard was, “There is no better preparation for teaching than the experience itself.” In other words, to be a good teacher, you have to embrace the challenge of being the teacher in the classroom first. Despite having amazing, approachable professors who knew the education field well and cared, with deep conviction, about my present wellbeing and future success as a teacher,  spending all of my time listening to their lectures, reading the assigned textbooks, taking quality notes, and even observing other elementary school teachers in their classroom were not going to give me the right kind of experience I needed than to call the classroom my own and run it the way I believe it needs to be run.  I would never know what I was capable of if I got my degree in Elementary Education just to shelf it for the rest of my life without trying on the pants to see if they fit.

We can have powerful, supernatural experiences with God on the mountaintop, surrounded by other believers who encourage you in those experiences, and I would encourage that for anyone. You can never have too many godly mountaintop experiences, but you won't know where your faith stands until you step foot outside of the camp and into the world around you. Oswald Chambers once wrote, "We are not made for the mountains, for sunrises, or for the other beautiful attractions in life- those are simply intended to be moments of inspiration. We are made for the valley and the ordinary things of life, and that is where we have to prove our stamina and strength." 

Throughout the years, I have personally enjoyed seeing victory over these enemies because I have engaged godly council not just when I’m on the mountaintop high, but when I’m in the valley, searching for answers that are already in front of me. In the book of James, we are warned that a man who does not do what the Word says is like a man who looks in the mirror but forget what he looks like when he leaves; a part from the Word, we lose our identity in the things the world tries to satisfy us with. Without discipleship in the valley, we are more likely to be that man who forgets his identity. We spend so much time reveling in our freedom that we lose focus of the fact we’re still in enemy territory - in the valley; the valley requires you to be armed with accountability and the Word of God; without it, it’ll swallow you whole. 

When we're on the mountain, we must consider why we're there: to grab onto the inspiration that comes from the Lord in order to take it to the valley when we or our community needs it. To relax in enemy territory means to forget what the mountaintop is for and why the valley exists. Though there is nothing wrong in anticipating the mountaintop, the test comes when we enter the valley after the mountaintop experience has concluded.

We should come down from that mountain with inspiration and use it in the valley to prove our stamina and strength. But we need discipleship and accountability to know when and how to use it in the darkest of times. We can be a light in a dark world that needs Jesus by how we approach both the valley and the mountain with purpose, conviction, and the community that reminds us of our identity and the inspiration we found in Christ.

What will you do with the mountaintop experience? 

Which Kronk will you Listen to?

If you've never seen Disney's The Emperor's New Groove, you're missing out. Regardless, there is a scene in the comedy where the antagonist's quirky and brawny henchman, Kronk, is instructed to dispose of the emperor's body when he turned into a llama instead of dead. Kronk's plan is to throw the emperor into a burlap sack, tie it, and toss the unconscious llama into a waterfall with the hopes that it kills him or somehow makes him disappear. 

Don't worry, it's an animated film, so it's not as violent as you think.

Before Kronk follows through with his plan, a devil Kronk appears on his left shoulder and an angel Kronk appears on his right moments later. I won't spoil the rest of it, but Kronk does eventually listen to one of the celestial shoulder beings and it unravels a string of hilarious moments - even for adults -  throughout the film.

I have been teaching at the same charter school in the same grade level for over 10 years now, and one of the rewards that comes with longevity is that people, namely students, will approach me with eagerness and energy proclaiming how excited they are to be in my class one day...

...four years from now. 

The younger the child, the more passionate they are about their bold prediction of one day being a member of my classroom. Ninety percent of the time, I don't know their name and have never seen them before, even when they tell me their sister's friend's younger brother was in my class seven years ago. You're probably thinking, That math doesn't even make sense. The worse part is when they give you that look like you should know them by name because you taught their sister's friend's younger brother. 

In reality, I always look forward to these interactions because it reminds me of the small joys that come with sticking it out in one career field in one location. After all, who doesn't like to create a name for themselves and leave a lasting legacy that is positive and powerful? Every brief interaction with the little ones is the angel Kronk on my shoulder reminding me that these conversations throughout the school day are checkpoints along the hike of life that remind me I am headed in the right direction. Whenever I face any level of difficulty during the workday, I often cling to them like rations on a battlefield because they keep me focused on why God put me in this position.

Then there is the devil Kronk.

The devil Kronk reminds me how strict, disorganized, unqualified, and clumsy I am, which means these youngsters who claim they'll be in my class one day don't have enough information to know whether they'll succeed in my classroom. Worse, they probably won't like me because I'll find a way to mess up their only 5th grade experience.

I have a running joke with myself that devil Kronk likely loves more than the angel Kronk on the other side:

"Those who enter my class love me. Once they leave my class, they warn others about me." 

The worse part about this joke is there is deep level of truth behind it, though it is not the entire truth. However, when I only focus on the students who defined their 5th grade teacher as strict and difficult, I convince myself there is nothing to be proud of. There goes my legacy, and even if there is one, it's the version where I'm known as the horrible teacher who should be surprised he even has a job in education still. The devil Kronk can do handstands and make me laugh with his subtle jokes, but if I pay too much attention to him, I am doomed because my legacy becomes a believed lie that I allow to go straight down the waterfall with the llama.

Just like me, Paul had his own devil Kronk and angel Kronk. The super apostles (2 Corinthians 11) were his devil Kronks. They were false teachers who appeared to be superior to Paul by manner and authority. Paul was weak in appearance, unsightly, and those he came in contact with held the strong opinion that he should stick to letter writing over public speaking (see 2 Corinthians 10:9-10). Comparitively, Paul had no chance at persuading people by appearance - the good-looking super apostles had him beat by a mile. 

However, where Paul was weak physically and in appearance, he made up for with sound mind, unwavering dedication to his purpose, and self-discipline in his approach to sharing and spreading the Gospel  his mission was led by God and his commitment to what the angel Kronk told him.

When Paul addressed the church in Corinth, he repeatedly modeled how to view your weaknesses as a reflection of Christ's power. 

"Therefore, I will most gladly boast all the more about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may reside in me. So I take pleasure in weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and in difficulties, for the sake of Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong."

- 2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Paul saw whatever inward or outward sign of weakness as another reason to glorify God because His power and grace would sustain him through all hardship. 

Whether I take the good opinions and criticisms about my teaching with a grain of salt or not, if I put my career in the hands of the Father rather than in my appearance like the super apostles did, I will learn to take the feedback through the lens of Christ and the Holy Spirit (the angel Kronk) in me. 

Sure, the devil Kronk might still exist in my mind, but the idea of him dictating my life sounds more and more laughable by the minute when I have a living, active God who is not only in  my corner, but is worthy of my praise whether I am weak or strong. 

Before Kronk makes his decision to let the sack go down the waterfall or not, the devil Kronk confidently gives the angel Kronk and Kronk three reasons they should listen to his ideas:

Devil Kronk: "Number one - look at that guy! He's got that sissy stringy music thing!"

Angel Kronk (agitated): "We've been through this. It's a harp, and you know it."

Devil Kronk: "Reason number two. Look what I can do."

Devil Kronk then proceeds to do a handstand, and half way through his performance, lifts one hand as a show of strength and skill.

Kronk (confused): What does that have to do with anything?

Whether I am too strict or the greatest teacher of all time. Ultimately, if pleasing God is my end goal, it is Christ in me that will be my positive, powerful legacy.

In light of Christ in me, all Satan can do is a handstand, while the Holy Spirit can help me make decisions that are in alignment with Christ and his will for me.

What the students see when they want me as their teacher is Christ in me, and when I fully embrace the power of the Holy Spirit in my heart and mind, it makes Satan's handstands more comical than intimidating. My dad's version of the devil Kronk is "A lion without teeth." His version is probably more accurate than a miniature Kronk with a mouse voice, devils horns, a trident, and a red wet suit. Regardless, who we listen to will determine how we carry out God's will for our lives.

When Paul was a changed man through God's intervention, he did not turn back - he listened to the angel Kronk voice in him and pressed onward toward the goal to spread the Gospel to as many nations and churches as he could. He understood who lived in him, which carried far more weight than appearing wealthy, knowledgeable, and powerful like the super apostles did.

"I have been crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me."

- Paul, from Galatians 2:20

Paul knows what it's like to listen to both the angel Kronk and the devil Kronk; he persecuted Christians before he became the Paul we know today. 

God loves to remind me who I am in him, and when students approach me with eagerness and excitement - and a hint of naivety - exclaiming their prediction about being in my future class, it reminds me of the positive, powerful legacy I am creating with the help of the Holy Spirit.

Whether he's a toothless lion or an animated devil in red spandex, our free will and the advocate we are promised in the Holy Spirit gives us the power to not listen to him.

Even if the Holy Spirit is a robed angel with a sissy stringy music thing.

Andy, the Samaritan, and the Messiah

The Story:

Once upon a time, there was a runaway slave who is running through the woods to complete his escape plan. He approaches a lion that stops him in his tracks, for this beast is injured. If not for a large thorn, the lion would be freely roaming the woods as he usually does on a normal day. Unfortunately, the thorn is the reason he is down for the count, a victim of the thorn whose sharp, pointy edge has debilitated the king of the forest and paralyzed him from striking fear in his prey. Though it does not explicitly say, it is likely the injury from the thorn has simultaneously hurt the lion and allowed the slave to flee from his owner unharmed.

But something interesting happens. The runaway slave, whose name is Androcles, like most adventure movies, sees his exit, the hurting lion, then his exit, and quickly weighs the pros and cons in his head. This is also probably the point where, if this story were a show airing on FOX, it would shoot to a commercial, causing the entire room of viewers to wait impatiently for the decision the protagonist (or antagonist) will make.

Instead of making his in and out of the woods unharmed - after all, what good is a lion if his paw is bloodied from a sharp thorn? - the slave stoops down to aid the lion by pulling the thorn out of his paw and nursing him back to health. The lion, out of a show of gratitude, takes the slave to his cave, provides him with meat he collects from the forest, and essentially keeps him safe from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, their freedom comes to and end shortly after, because both are found by the emperor of Rome and separated for some time before being taken into the arena to be seen as a public spectacle in a gladiator fight.

When the time comes for slave and lion to perform in this dual, the ravenous lion is let out of the cage to face the man and bounds with great speed in an effort to make the slave his food.

Right before pouncing, the lion recognizes the man and instead of eating him whole, he stops and begins licking him as a sign of friendship and affection. The emperor is so thrown off by this display of love, loyalty, and devotion, he pardons both the slave and the lion and thus declaring them officially free. No longer is the slave considered "runaway" free but free "by law," so he no longer has to live in fear of being caught again.

Kindness is the Theme of Life:

I love using this story to teach the components of literature to my students because, at fifth grade, students are ruthlessly rude and disrespectful to one another, break hearts in the name of "self-defense", speak sarcastically to one another, and develop proficiency at navigating - and hiding behind - the digital codes of social media. They become bullies in their own right. If you want evidence, eavesdrop into a conversation and you'll quickly find out how unforgiving the battleground of an adolescent can be -- and it's not just what they speak with their mouths, it's also what they don't say and their lack of manners that can often be appalling to anyone who knows anything about common courtesy. 

With this short story, I can teach elements of fictional literature and model how we should treat each other all in one lesson. Androcles and the Lion is Aesop's gift to all teachers. Androcles & the Lion demonstrates, in a slightly exaggerated way, the good that can come from being a Good Samaritan even when no one asked you, or paid you, to play that role. 

Some would call it Karma, some would call it God protecting those choose to be like Jesus, and some might label it "being the good the world needs." Regardless of what my takeaways from this story are, it's an easy one to teach my 5th graders because kindness is powerful no matter what religion you believe, time period you live in, or society you are part of, kindness does a whole lot of good for any community. Personally, I feel kids at this age get lost navigating through what they want versus what they experience the world giving them on a daily basis. They desperately crave to fit in, be liked, and feel understood. If they don't, they resort to versions of themselves they would never want to be friends with if they saw themselves behaving the way they do. Kids at this age, and maybe you and I from time to time, need a little bit of Andy and The Lion to teach us a few lessons or two about kindness.

 Everything to Gain, Everything to Lose 

As a teacher educating 10-year-olds on the theme of this story, I always hear the tip-of-the-iceberg or Mariana Trench responses to "What is Aesop's moral of this story?" Tip-of-the-iceberg is the simple reply: "Kill them with kindness!" or "Kindness is cool." 

I want to go deeper than that. Mariana Trench deep.

In other words, what is the cost of kindness? What does "even when it's hard" look like?

Students are smart to add, "Even when it's hard," because there is plenty of text evidence to connect to the claim. We call that "Supporting Details." But where is the evidence in their own life when kindness is difficult? Most kids can tell you how to be kind, define kind, and wear Old Navy shirts with "Choose Kindness" embroidered across the front of it. We're good at preaching kindness, but what do we do when an injured lion steps in front of your agenda?

Think about it like this: the moment the Lion strikes the thorn, the roles are reversed. The slave has power because of the freedom he experiences while on the run - no one to depend on anymore. The Lion is now dependent on the removal of the thorn to regain his reputation as king of the jungle. In a world where everyone and everything operates under their identity, the slave is weak and the lion is strong. Additionally, if this lion really is the King of the jungle, a pesky thorn should have nothing on him. This thorn is a mere dust mite compared to the lion's sheer strength and will power. Right? Not only does the lion represent an obstacle standing between the slave and his freedom, he's also dealing with an animal that could destroy you from limb to limb because he has a big appetite. I don't know if you've heard, but it is quite difficult to reason with a hungry lion. They typically don't see a human to befriend, but meat to devour and consume. Once the thorn is gone, so is Androcles. Gone to be with the inside of the the lion's stomach. 

When Androcles experiences a moment of hesitation, if there is one, upon hearing the cries of the injured lion, he has everything to gain upon ignoring those cries. On the flipside, he has everything to lose if he assists the lion through his predicament: Androcles could get tricked by this beast in the forest and get eaten alive or the slave master could catch up to him and send him back with a severe punishment awaiting him. Best case scenario, it stalls his perfect escape from slave life - he's almost to the finish line where freedom is waiting to join him. Worse case scenario, his one shot at escaping the hands of his master is gone either because he gets eaten alive or the master finds him and returns him from whence he came.

 No one would judge him, scold him, or rip him apart on social media if he decides to ignore the lion. If anything, Androcles would be encouraged to leave the lion alone - after all, he's preserving his own life.  No one would blame, Androcles. To make the decision easier, no one in the forest was witnessing firsthand the dilemma staring him down; there was no Instagram following, no Facebook Live feed for Androcles' friends to view, and no news van parked in the forest so the runaway slave's kindness would go viral. He had no motivating factor to do his deed of the day. He had no agent chirping in his ear telling him to perform an act of kindness so the entire forest would know about in order for it to improve his image as the good guy doing good things. It was the lion, Androcles, and his moral compass guiding him. Despite having everything to lose and a healthy, man-eating lion to gain, Androcles still chose to rescue the hurting lion. 

If you ignore the ending of the story, and even the part where Andy and the lion become besties, there is no logical reason the slave should stop to help. No reason whatsoever. Period.

Let's stick with the Tip-of-the-Iceberg response: Kindness is cool. Is it? In this case, it doesn't sound too cool. Yes, Andy is kind, and that's respectable. If cool means eating raw meat the lion gives you as a gift, getting recaptured, and forced to fight against a ravenous lion in an arena - the same killer lion who you just befriended, then yes, cool. But that wouldn't be a cool life for me. The moment the word "Recaptured" was part of the timeline, I stopped considering pulling a thorn out as an option.

Let's zoom in on Andy's decision making for a minute. In the beginning of the story, Androcles is a runaway slave in a forest where his owner is no where to be seen. What does this mean for the slave? His escape plan worked. Androcles is probably no different than your typical human. He probably reasoned with himself to not show anyone kindness or help anyone in need because that would stall his only shot at freedom. No one would oppose him deciding to do what makes him happy. His slave friends probably said something along the lines of "You do you" or "Let the haters hate." When the slave hears the cries of the lion, all the convincing the devil on Androcles' shoulder did to keep him focused on his escape plan fell to the wayside. He used his freedom to set the lion free. He traded the freedom he had to love the lion unconditionally, even if it cost him any future freedom he would have. He didn't keep his freedom to himself; he shared it by giving the lion a shot at freedom from the thorn.

That's the Mariana Trench response.

What this Means to Us:

In a lot of ways, Androcles should be us on any given day. We are called to a higher standard in how we treat one another, not just when it is most convenient or when all eyes are on us. The fact that Androcles and the Lion takes place in the forest where no other creatures a mentioned is not by accident. Androcles gave up his perfect escape plan because someone needed help - and without a moment's hesitation, he jumped in to save the lion. He risked his own life to save the lion so the lion could get back to doing lion things. Androcles is the Aesop's Fables version of the Good Samaritan.

One of the observations my students undoubtedly make at some point in the conversations we have about this story is how many times the slave could have taken care of his needs and done nothing for the lion. First, he could have kept running through the woods and taken advantage of the lion's thorn misfortune. Second, when the lion brings Androcles to the cave to feed him food as a gift for pulling the thorn out of his paw, he could have said "toodles" after getting his fill. Since he didn't, Androcles was recaptured and sent to the Colosseum to take part in the games against his friend, the lion.

The more you think about this story, the more it makes you wonder what would have happened if Andy didn't stop and assist the lion. Sure, he may have still gotten recaptured and dropped into the arena to face the lion, or maybe not. Maybe Andy would be spotted on some nameless island off the grid, sipping Pina Coladas and munching on the finest fresh sushi. All you can eat too. Regardless of the outcome, Andy sacrificed his freedom so someone else could be free. The slaves freedom from slavery became the lion's freedom from a thorn. Isn't this what we're called to do as well? In a moments notice, we should consider how to step in to assist those who need it, regardless of what it accomplishes for us. It is evident in this short story that not once did Andy consider what saving the lion would do for himself. 

Unfortunately, too often, I do the opposite of Androcles. I calculate the risk of being Jesus to others and wind up talking myself out of kindness. Like Andy and the lion, the Samaritan who assisted the Jewish man in distress was a part of a people group staunchly opposed to Jews. While lions and humans are not known to be enemies of each other, they also are not known to be within the same pride - they are not known to coexist in the wild together, and anyone who advises you to pack your bags to go live with the lions in the grasslands of Africa is an utter fool. 

So, we have a runaway slave who assists a lion without regard for his own future in one of Aesop's fables. We have a Samaritan man going out of his way to help a Jewish man heal in one of the parables told by Jesus. Both of the main characters in each story have no reason to do what they did except because it is the right thing to do. They both did something great for someone else, even if it meant sacrificing their own agenda. 

On the cross, Jesus didn't just do what he did because "Kindness is cool." Andy, the Samaritan, and Jesus all represent a step deeper than kindness: Love. The first two stories are fictional - a fable and a parable. Jesus' story of dying on the cross so we can experience life is real. His loving kindness was not shown out of convenience. It cost him his freedom. He died a brutal death, filled with torture, humiliation, and indescribable pain so that we could live an abundant life. He pulled the thorn out of us and wore a crown of them on his head. That's not just kindness. It's love. 

It's love in the form of sacrifice, and Jesus urges us to use his death an resurrection as an example for how deep our love should be for those around us:

"As the Father has love me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love...My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends."

-John 15:13 

Androcles laid his freedom down for the lion so he could be freed. The Good Samaritan aided the Jew in his recovery and sacrificed his time, energy, and finances to help him. Jesus set those captured by sin free by putting those sins on his shoulders and taking them to the cross, where we belonged.

How will you lay your life down for those God placed in your path?

*https://www.wwf.org.uk/learn/fascinating-facts/lions 

**https://www.britannica.com/animal/lion

Mr. Tweed-Suit Man: At Your Service

Over 10 years ago, 2013, it was my first year at EDUPRIZE Charter School in Gilbert, Arizona. It was the beginning of the school year, which meant most of Arizona was God's oven and we were his delicious cookies, hoping to not to melt. But it wasn't the heat that had me worried. On this particular Friday afternoon, we had a half day with the students, and the second half of the day was meetings with the staff. This staff meeting included a special announcement:

"One of the great honors of being one of few A+ rated charter schools in Arizona," our principal began,

"Is that we are a model school for other principals and administrators to look to for ways to improve their own school and also get that A+ rating that we already have." 

She paused.

I gulped.

She continued, "Next week, we're having principals from other schools tour our school, and some of them will pop into your classroom for a visit. Since you're the reason our school gets that A+ rating, we want you to show them how it's done." She smiled that warm smile principals are known to have. I did not share that same smile at the time.

Are you kidding? This is the beginning of my second year. I'm a rookie! No way they're going to see me as the reason we're getting A+ marks. In fact, the reason we have an A+ is because the evaluators haven't been in my room yet! 

I'm not sure if I thought those very words at the time, but I remember being nervous and not having the kind of confidence needed to blow anyone's socks off. But, they were coming, and I had no choice but to pray that they'd either not come in my room or God would come down and turn water to wine - or some kind of miracle that would allow me the opportunity to escape the work day embarrassment-free.

After a sleepless weekend came and went, I was as ready as I could be. Monday morning also came and went, and I was able to breeze through the lessons without worry because there were no visitors popping in; no adults accept me. It was heavenly. I was thankful because it looked like I would escape the day unharmed by these upper-level visitors. I'm pretty sure their workday would be just as productive if they just searched "Incredible teachers" on YouTube and watch those videos, then tell their staff to be like them. Why do they have to come to my classroom to see what cool teachers do in the classroom? I'm not suggesting principals and superintendents are awful people (after all, I got hired by one), but they have expectations and probably drive Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs. In addition, most of them have gone through multiple certifications, all of the teaching positions, and various forms of experience in the school system before being hired into the position they currently held. For them to be inspired by me, I need to show them something amazing. Isn't that how it typically works? While their expectation was to see a great teacher in action, my expectation was that these visitors were the Grim Reaper, and this experience would be the death of me. 

Then the door opened to my classroom. Here we go.

I just started my reading lesson, and in walks a bald man with glasses and brown tweed suit with matching pants. He had a yellow visitor sticker on his right pocket, and he pulled up a chair in the back right corner of the room.

He just watched. The same thing a visiting principal would do. He was clearly that man.

It was my time to shine. Time to put my big-boy pants on and make my principal, my parents, my future kids and their kids, proud. I knew I couldn't toss him out of my classroom, so I did what I knew was best.

I walked over to this tweed-suit-man and introduced myself. 

"Hello, welcome to our school. My name is Mr. Fitz." Get ready to have your mind blown, I guess, I thought.

"Nice to meet you," he replied, standing up. He held out his hand to shake mine. Nice and strong. He had the handshake of a principal and even sounded like a principal. Obviously he ran a school 20-30 minutes from mine, and he probably ran it like a champ.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, I just wanted to stop in and see how it's going."

"Absolutely, and we're glad you're here!" I replied outwardly. Inwardly, Why me? God help me.

Boy, did He. I decided to go rogue from my written plans and put all of my best training to practice. Spring Arbor University, my Alma Mater, would be proud. Kids 20+ years into the future would be proud. I ran reading centers, made my expectations for the kids clear, infused technology and art into the lesson, and cracked jokes to keep the kids entertained. I did what administrators know as differentiated, monitored students' progress, and managed the behavior and discipline like a professional parent. It was incredible and still ranks in my top-10 best lessons taught to this day.

After I took a moment to catch my breath from the spectacular performance, I noticed the principal standing up to get my attention. 

"Wow, that was amazing. It's good to see my daughter's teacher in action -- oh, I'm sorry --" the tweed-suited man interrupted himself. "I didn't introduce myself...

I'm Ron. Ron Moller. Allison's dad."

Allison's dad? As in, parent of one of my students? I thought. 

I wanted to slap him. Of course he couldn't introduce himself as Allison's dad at the beginning. Of course he had to wait until the end of my spectacular lesson to finally tell me who he really is. My reading lesson was so good, it would be the top video trending that administrators would find on YouTube if they typed "Incredible Teachers" in the search bar and hit enter. 

But who was it for? Who was I trying to impress?

Allison's dad.

Forget he students, I did all of this performing and doing what great teachers did for Allison's dad.

All this man wanted to do was watch me teach his daughter how to infer using quotes from a passage. He wasn't even visiting to help me grade assignments, hang art on the wall, teach a mini-lesson on story structure, or show my students how to juggle. He was there, on the same day principals and administrators were also visiting classrooms mind you, to be convinced his daughter was in good hands being educated by me. 

I don't blame him. He loves his daughter, wants what's best for her, and desires for her to get the best education a 5th grade teacher could offer her. And it's highly unlikely for him to know other schools were coming by to check us out too.

I blame myself. 

After all, I was not hired to inspire parents of fifth grade students. I was not entrusted 25+ students so that their parents could be in awe of my detailed weekly newsletter, amazed by my communication via e-mail and telephone, and be taken aback by my ability to thoroughly conduct parent-teacher conferences with the confidence of a 20-year veteran educator. So, why was I trying so hard to impress Mr. Tweed Suit Man? I knew in my heart I was teaching because I wanted to make the student's lives better, not a late-30s man in a suit watching me teach for the first time. It was meant to be, "Hello Students, Mr. Fitz, at your service," not "Hello Mr. Tweed-Suit Man, Mr. Fitz, at your service." A subtle distinction, but important.

Unfortunately, Mr. Tweed Suit Man is a representation of how easy it is to lose sight of the real mission. Allison's dad symbolizes every time I get swept up in how I am perceived by others in order to gain their approval. Forget how God sees me and the important role he has me playing when I am trying so hard to impress the Tweed Suit men of my life.

Sometimes he is disguised as my wife. Sometimes my boss, or the parents of students I teach. Even myself, perhaps. I often try so hard to prove my worth - to prove I am enough, that I deserve to be a teacher of children. Worse, I continually reflect on my work and tell myself it wasn't good enough even if I have plenty to smile about. 

No matter who dons that suit and sits in the classroom of my mind and heart, I spend so much of my energy devoted to pleasing that person or people, that I forget who I should actually be doing the best work for. Under the topic of teaching, the obvious answer is that my best work should be done for the students. After all, they learn best when I put my best foot forward. 

However, even the kids should not be primary reason why I do the work to the best of my ability: "So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God" (1 Corinthians 10:31). It may sound cliché, but when we allow our daily mission statement to be to reflect the glory of God in everything we say and do, it changes our inward mindset and outward posture. Our view of the day is seen through the same lens of God. Our problems, obstacles, and issues seem miniscule in the grand scheme of God's design. Even our victories are only a small fraction of the bigger picture God has in mind.

What does this mantra of doing everything for the glory of God look like on a day-to-day basis? Answer: The theme song of my childhood, sung by none other than my dad. 

This is the day
This is the day

This is the day that the Lord has made

That the Lord has made

I will rejoice

I will rejoice

I will rejoice and be glad in it

And be glad in it.

I couldn't tell you who sung the song, and I am almost certain it didn't win a Grammy, but it doesn't make the message behind it any less powerful and true.

What resonates with me about this song is what it emphasizes. We can all rejoice in anything to the point of idolizing it. According to Merriam-Webster, rejoice means "to feel joy or great delight," so if we want to rejoice in a great Netflix documentary or having a three-day weekend to celebrate an obscure holiday, we could. But this song is emphasizing who made the day and taking delight in it. Dallas Baptist University** defines glorifying God as "to mirror His image, which is to love, and to love generously, as he does." I believe God takes great delight in what he made, and if we are to take delight in each day he made, we are mirroring his image by loving what he loves in the way he loves it. This song takes my heart and mind back to why I even try to be my best in all I do. 

Secondly, Matthew 22:37 says, "Love the Lord your God with all of your heart, and with all of your soul, and with all of your mind." Loving the Lord looks like being your best with the right motives, motives that glorify God. Solomon once prayed to God, "Give your servant a discerning heart to govern your people and to distinguish between right and wrong" (1 Kings 3:9) - as the story goes, God granted wise Solomon this wish, and gave him a lot more than just what he asked for, making him the richest king in human history. Solomon doesn't ask God to give him the power to please the man in the tweed suit with a mind-blowing lesson plan, or to move up the corporate ladder. No, he asks that God will give him a discerning heart. Why? It glorifies God.  

For me, glorifying God is taking delight in each day as an opportunity to serve the students with incredible opportunities to learn and grow; glorifying God is using wisdom to distinguish between right and wrong so I can help the students know the difference too. It's not about the man in the tweed suit, gaining national notoriety, or making more money than needed to survive. When it becomes about my own advancement, it changes who I serve and glorify. My god becomes about me, my agenda, and making my needs the highest priority when I take my focus off of God and how to glorify him. This is what caused the downfall of Solomon. He took his eyes off of honoring God and instead focused on how his wealth, prosperity, and position could make him his own god. At some point, the tweed-suited man distracted Solomon from what initially crowned him king.

If you struggle with fixing your eyes on God and using your life to glorify him, it helps to identify the tweed-suit man in your life. Maybe you've got great intentions, but your motivation is wrong. For example, me putting together the right lesson plan that was flawless is a noble endeavor, but doing it to impress who I thought was the principal of another school was wrong. Or maybe, you're in the muddy part of life, deep in sin and rebellion and you desire to put to death those ugly habits that overshadow a life protected by the love of the Father. In the end, you're not glorifying God, but the flesh.

In either case, a good starting point is to recognize where you stepped away from God and what caused it, then allow God to train your heart and mind to turn to him rather than the motives of the flesh. As you dig deep into this heart change, don't forget to put on an attitude of gratitude, rejoicing in each day that the Lord has made. 

I try my best to make each day at school about the kids and glorifying God by how I teach them, but I'll admit, the tweed-suit man often comes through my heart and mind and likes to toy with it. Sometimes, he comes in the room in the form of my boss, and I begin to craft my lesson around pleasing her. Though I do tend to lose focus on the mission at hand: honoring God through the way I teach and love my students, I am grateful for the infinite opportunities to come back the following day stronger than the days leading up to it. 

Through God's grace, I can refocus my attention back on who I am here to serve:

My Lord Jesus Christ. 

At your service.

**"Christ: Our Model for Glorifying God" - https://www.dbu.edu/

Spiritual ADHD: Asking Dumb Questions, Forgetting God, and How to Stop Doing Both

Having worked over a decade at the same charter school, in the same grade (5th), with the same academic standards, and virtually the same 8-10 minute drive five days a week and 180 days a year, I have had my fair share of experiences with students I have taught in year's past come back to visit me in my classroom: three feet taller and hopefully a profusion of knowledge in that ever-growing brain of theirs. I have also experienced kids much younger than 5th grade, approach me at school practically yelling, "Mr. Fitz! My sister was in your class!" And while the confidence they have to approach me in such a manner is inspiring and their excitement to chat with me is flattering, I am not as hard on myself for forgetting who it is I am talking to compared to when it comes from a former student five years older and three feet taller.

After all, there was once a time when I taught them 30+ hours a week, 180 days out of the year. All that time, and the best I can do is think, Who are you and why do you look so familiar? My logic is, if I truly formed a solid bond with that student, I should know them by name no matter how many years passed. I should recall vivid memories, because my entire year was formed around molding that child academically, socially, and emotionally.

I'm not one to forgive myself quickly and easily, especially in the aspect of teacher-student relationships. I pride myself in my ability to connect with the students in a friendly, silly, encouraging way that reminds them they matter and are seen, heard, and most importantly, considered a valuable part of the classroom and the world. So when I forget, it feels like I never connected with them when they were in my classroom full time. Then I feel worse. I should know this student because I put my time and energy into loving them, I think to myself. 

Then I consider the disciples, who are just like me, and it becomes so much easier to forgive myself for these blunders.

Throughout the New Testament, there are numerous "I forgot" moments the disciples have in Jesus' presence: ones where Jesus must have been thinking, Have you gone mad? Are you deranged? Like a coach should have unswerving confidence in his players representing the team, I'm certain Jesus had a similar attitude towards his disciples. But sometimes you have to wonder why Jesus chose them in the first place.

Consider one example. Jesus revealed to the disciples the suffering, unforgivable torture, and eventual death he would endure after being arrested and placed in the hands of the chief priests. Peter staunchly replies that it will never happen to Jesus, no way no how. Anyone who had ever read this part of Matthew knows what happens next. Without hesitation, Jesus calls Peter, "Satan" and a "Stumbling Block" (Matthew 16:21-23). Can you imagine being the other 11 disciples in that moment? You could probably hear a rabbit munching on a carrot in the nearby garden of Gethsemane. Matthew probably whispered "No he didn't" to Phillip to cut through the awkward silence like a sharp knife.

"Glad I didn't share what I was thinking," one disciple. "Did he call him Satan?"

"Do you actually think Peter is Satan?" Another disciple.

"Suspend him without pay," a third disciples whispers.

"Bro. We're not getting paid," pause. "Wait, are you getting paid?"

"Someone give Petey a hug. He needs it." 

"He needs more than a hug...if you know what I mean."

"Andrew! You naughty dog!"

Regardless, Peter's famously bold statement that caused Jesus to call him Satan is not the only incident that would cause most to wonder what was going through the minds of the disciples, who gave up their old lives to spend every waking moment walking with Jesus and getting to know him. After all, if you were to invest all of that time, effort, and energy following Jesus' every footstep, listening to every word, and copying every behavior, you should be able to discern what to say and not to say during his most tense moments.

But this moment is not just a stand-alone. Peter acting a fool is not an abnormal incident where a disciple misspoke and expressed a thought that was misaligned with Jesus' mission - and it's not just Peter.

Enter Phillip, another one of Jesus' disciples, who had a whoopsie moment in front of Jesus. A "You've been with me all this time, and that's the best question you've got?" kind of moment. In fact, I'm pretty confident my translation isn't too far off from what was actually said.

In John 14, we see Jesus sitting with his disciples, talking to them and preparing them for the future - a future, mind you, without Jesus' physical presence. Fortunately, the disciples had already spent a lot of time with Jesus up until this point, so there would be no reason to believe what teachers in the school setting would try to avoid calling a "dumb question." But, as most, if not all teachers know, dumb questions do exist, and Phillip proves just that. 

He asks a dumb question.

I'll also happily admit that I tell kids the only dumb questions are ones that have already been answered less than 5 minutes prior. What's wild is that Jesus insinuates Phillip's question is profoundly dumb because Jesus spent his entire journey with the disciples answering the question Phil asks. Take a look:

"Phillip said, 'Lord, show us the father and that will be enough for us.'

Jesus answered, 'Don't you know me, Phillip (you know it's real when he calls him Phillip, not Phil), even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, 'Show us the Father'?" (John 14:8-9).

There is so much unpacking we can do here, but to stay on point, this is exactly what Spiritual ADHD looks like, because Jesus essentially tells Phillip, "Where have you been?" Maybe Phil didn't forget - maybe he was just afraid of what a post-Jesus world would look like. Or maybe through fear, Phil forgot who Jesus is and what his mission was when he was on earth. Either way, Phil's woopsie moment goes down as one of the Hall of Fame "I Forgot" moments.

***

While it would be easy to lambaste Phil for asking such a disrespectful question, it would be even easier for Phil to criticize us for our lack of faith and understanding. After all, we're the ones living in an age where streets are abundant with churches we can freely worship in without condemnation and a prison sentence awaiting us. We're the generation that has WiFi access, Bible apps and Christian e-books just one click away. Don't care for digital books? Go to Amazon and have a physical book delivered to your door in less than one week. You are not frowned upon for loving God; in fact, enter any church and you likely find someone else who wants to walk the spiritual journey with you - and speaking of walking, you don't have to. You can drive, and if you can't, you can find someone who does. The point is, most people don't have restrictions to their faith the way the disciples did back then.

And we have "I forgot" moments like Phil did all the time. Even in a society where the Bible and Christ-inspired believers, pastors, and authors are right around the corner, on the internet, and within our friend groups just a text away, we still forget how mighty, loving, gracious, powerful, and wise God is. We forget that He is on our side, and He does not just have the answer...

He is the answer.

So, how do we avoid falling into these "I forgot" moments that so many of the disciples got swept up in?

1. Seek Christ with your entire being: "Those who seek Christ, shall find him," according to Matthew Henry Commentary on Luke 24, "he will manifest himself to those that inquire after him..." 

Since I have worked at EDUPRIZE for a while I have seen many faces - most of them I know because they spent approximately 180 days in my classroom. The students I see outside of the classroom are on the way to dropping my students off at specials (PE, Computers, Science, Music, etc.) or at lunch, when other younger grades are outside as well. Because I am not engaged with these younger grades on a daily basis, they know my name but I often don't know theirs when they shout mine. 

God's Word promises we will find Him when we look, and unlike my EDUPRIZE interactions with kids I do not know, he knows your name! When we abide in him and store our treasures up in Heaven, not on our earthly problems, he will manifest himself to us - what an incredible gift! 

2. Limit time spent "admiring the problem": Do not confuse this with 'considering' the problem. Yes, we do need to consider the problem, but as a means to an end. Problems should only garner attention in order to come up with adequate and appropriate solutions. When we're confronted with spiritual ADHD - lack of focus on our solution - we should spend more time developing solutions through God's wisdom rather than focusing only on the problem and its deadly ripple effects. As Kaye Otten and Jodie Tuttle says in their book How to Reach and Teach Children with Challenging Behaviors, "...we need to use [time] wisely, focusing more time on problem solving than problem admiring." Though Otten and Tuttle's book applies more to children and their misbehaviors in the classroom, we can easily apply this rule of thumb to how we approach our spiritual journey with God. 

From my own experience, sometimes I get so wrapped up in my problems, I fuse God to them and make myself believe that He takes delight in engineering my problems just to make me miserable. Out of uncontrollable anger and unrelenting negative emotion, I demand God do something in my favor, rather than trust Him that He is already doing something far greater in me than I can ever ask or imagine. In the end, I expend far more energy fighting against God rather than allowing his wisdom, guidance, providence, and everlasting love do the fighting for me. 

 If we are patient, slow down, and admire Him, we might find the solution faster than we can fully reflect on the problem.

3. Believe God is Smart Enough - "...What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived --- the things God has prepared for those who love him. These are things God has revealed to us by the Holy Spirit." Sounds too good to be true, right? It is, but it is also true - it's found in the Bible: 1 Corinthians 2:9-10. For context, Paul says even the rulers of the earth couldn't understand it. 

One evening, I met two friends of mine for coffee. The goal in meeting was to uplift one another through prayer, Biblical wisdom, and general anecdotes that relate to our prayer requests. 

One of these friends is the type of guy who has the gift of words. You know the type; their prayers are Hall of Fame conversations with God - fueled by intense emotion, commanding enunciation, and an exceptional string of vocabulary words that I would never think once to use in my prayers. You would think he rehearsed these prayers before showing up to our bi-monthly meetings. As we were nearing the end of our meeting, he shared that we need to "believe God is smart enough." On my 16-minute drive home, my friend's exhortative words rang loudest of all of the wisdom he shared.

Believe God is smart enough.

Even if you did use over 35% of our brain, any version of intelligence you can think of does not come close to what God has planned. But how often, when confronted by a problem, especially those enormous ones that don't seem to go away, do we only use ourselves and everyone else except God. Mostly, we get down on our knees by our bedside when we're at our wits end, down to our final straw, and spending our last $6. We don't use God and his infinite wisdom first. He is usually our last resort.

I am not comparing myself to God here, but it reminds me of when a child misbehaves because another student "made him do it." My typical response is, "Why didn't you come to me before it got worse? I could have helped you navigate through the problem without you getting into trouble!" Like any student who misbehaves in response to another student's behavior, we are always responsible for how we respond. If you agree that God is smarter than you and I, raise your hand. I'm sure you raised your hand as your staring at these words, because of course he is. But we don't. So often we don't.

We can approach the throne room of grace...and find grace to help us in times of need (Hebrews 4:16), or not go to God in the middle of trial. God lovingly gifts us with free will, so the bottom line is: Did you go to God? Or did we forget how intelligent and wise he is? 

***

Maybe you don't give God enough credit in your day because you only seek God when it's convenient, you admire the problem too much, you don't believe God is smart enough to solve your problems, or a combination of the three. Or maybe, "none of the above" is the reason you're forgetting that God made you, he loves you, and he knows you by name. 

Is Jesus asking you the same question? "Don't you know me...even after I have been among you such a long time?"

Your desire to pursue him does not weaken or strengthen his desire to pursue you. Unlike me not knowing the little ones' names when they say hello to me at school, God knows you and wants you to know your problems can be solved because He is smart enough. 

"If you seek Him, you will find Him." 

You will also find the answers you're looking for. 

Your Gethsemane vs. Your Agenda: Revisiting Your Priorities

 

Meet Diggs, a French Bulldog who is a bulldozer driven by a spatially unaware, uneducated, and unnecessarily aggressive brain. You may see a dog who loves his naps, but don't let his relaxed disposition fool you. Once you show any desire to play with him, he's like a little football player who has no off switch and will do anything to secure a loose football - like rolling back a wind-up car until you hear the loud clicking noise, then releasing it.

If those metaphors don't do the trick, imagine you have a squeaky red ball in your hand. Less than three feet in front of you is a drooling dog struggling to remain seated in an effort to get what he eagerly desires: to catch the elusive ball and show how inferior it is compared to him. If you were to put ADHD, obsessive compulsion, and squeaky ball idolatry into one animal, it would be Diggs. 

A story like the one above is only the tip of the iceberg full of stories that make our pup adorable, quirky, and unique from the rest of his canine counterparts. To say he has a personality is simplest way to describe him. His response to any toy would prompt anyone to reasonably ask, "What is going through Diggs' head?" The answer: "Toy" and "I will show I am better than toy." 

"Treat" and "Food" are alternatives, but we'll save these additional hobbies for another time.

The funniest, yet mildly most dangerous part about Diggs and his fascination for squeaky toys is how clumsy he is when the toy is dangling in front of him. He will jump, run over Stella, slide into walls, and even bump his head on coffee tables just for the pleasure and joy of claiming the toy as his own and proving he has control over it - even if it ends in an all-out tug of war competition. 

Unfortunately, what drives Diggs' ineptitude and unawareness is his overly aggressive, intense pace in which he lives his life. For example, his sister Frenchie, Stella, the smaller and feebler of the pair, will lovingly approach me in hopes for an encouraging "Who's a good girl," a pat on the head, a belly scratch, or any combination of the three. Once Diggs catches wind of this, he will go Bulldozer Mode into Stella to get an equal amount of attention, which is where I see his aggressive nature come out most.

Unfortunately, Diggs doesn't know when he's not careful, and he certainly doesn't know how to be more aware of his surroundings even if we gave him treats to help him. We can train him to sit and wait, which he does do while violently shaking like a K9 police dog being held back seconds before attacking a drug lord. But to tell Diggs to stop or calm down in order to master awareness would be like trying to teach a carrot to use self-defense before getting eaten. 

In fact, I have found that the only difference between training a carrot to use self-defense and Diggs to use manners through mindfulness is when I can promise him food 5-10 seconds later. Rarely, Diggs prefers his red ball over food, so food is a clear favorite no matter what. That being said, the only way he will voluntarily slow down the pace of his life is if food is in the deal.

At this point, you're probably thinking, "Duh. It's a dog. They don't think about mindfulness the way we do." I can't speak for you, but I often feel I am closer to Diggs' mindfulness level than I am to Gandhi. I am as impulsive as they come, especially when, right in front of my eyes, is something I really want to do or have. The moment a "toy" is dangling in front of me, I will do anything to grab a piece of it, even if I bump my head or plow into other people to get it. I lose all sense of what my priorities are in order to accomplish what I want or get what I am after. My wife calls it "fixation," and she couldn't be more accurate. When I become fixated on certain parts of my day, thoughts in my head, or the whereabouts of a misplaced item, everything else gets shoved to the backburner for a period of time; if longer than a period of time, my wife often has to dig me out of the mental and emotional mess I made through the unnecessary fixation grave I fall into. 

It would be unfair to put everyone under the same umbrella of impulsivity and mindless thinking, especially the type A personalities who can pridefully create a daily agenda and pound it out with perfection with little to no distractions derailing the schedule. But in a general sense, we live in a distraction-filled world more now than ever before. As Rich Villodas writes in his book, The Deeply Formed Life: Five Transformative Values to Root Us in the Way of Jesus, "Our world continues on, faster and busier, and we are reminded that our souls were not created for the kind of speed to which we have grown accustomed. Thus, we are a people who are out of rhythm, a people with too much to do and not enough time to do it." We may say we've nailed down the perfect routine, but the more we fill our days with things to do, the more other needs get pushed aside.

Unfortunately, and more often than not, our time with God is what takes the back seat; in fact, sometimes we even kick him out of the car altogether when we idolize other aspects of our agenda.

N.T. Wright introduces the paradox of living in union with God by writing, "It is only when we slow down our lives that we can catch up to God"* The more I ponder this concept, the more I identify with it. The rise of Social Media since the early 21st century (Facebook: 2004, Twitter: 2006, Instagram: 2010, Snapchat: 2011, VSCO: 2011, Discord: 2015, etc.) has sped up our lives. And it's not just social media and apps on 5G Wi-Fi that speed our lives up. On TV,  a shot that cuts to a new viewpoint on television changes every 7-8 seconds on average, according to a Salisbury University study. Even the way TV shows are filmed train our brains to expect our eyes to see things at a greater speed! However, the digital and technology age we live in is not the only aspect of our lives to blame - we organize our daily agenda to fit as much as we can within 24 hours; fast food restaurants, expedited shipping, and Instapot meals also aid us in our desire to go through the experience quicker so we can move on to the next item on our to-do list at the greater speeds than a gazelle being chased through an African Savanna. Downtime is seen as a waste of time, and resting from all of the hustle and bustle is seen as optional in an effort to be productive. In fact, I would go a step further and say the digital and technology companies and apps are as successful as they are because doing things more efficiently has always been a priority for the customer.

"What is efficient is not always effective," Bob Goff, author of his book Dream Big, writes. It's difficult to agree with Bob when the fast food, online shopping, and 5G Wi-Fi gives us every reason to believe our effectiveness has improved because these things make us efficient. However, Bob adds, "Love’s goal isn't ever efficiency; it's presence" - and if anything is eliminated from our agenda with the introduction of these hi-speed additions influencing our decisions, it's presence, because to be present, we have to slow down. How can you properly love the journey if you're constantly trying to find shortcuts? How can you build a proper relationship with those around you if your constantly cutting back on time in order to save it?

When Jesus was just a short time away from his death, he was "overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death" (Mark 14:34). What did he do? He went to be alone for an hour. An hour! My average prayer length is 3 minutes! Even when I'm journaling, meditating, or worshipping in song, I barely crack 20 minutes. If there were any example of slowing down in the Bible, this is it. Going away for an hour just to pray, which was the first thing Jesus said to his disciples before he went off to be alone with God (Mark 14:32), is quite impressive. 

If I were Jesus, I would be creating a to-do list, writing my last blog post, teaching one more writing lesson to my 5th graders, and cleaning the garage for my wife. Maybe I would finally delete all of the store promotion spam e-mails filling up my storage if I have time before the chief priests send people to arrest me. The point is, my go-to habit is to do something, knowing that efficiency is the motivation for doing it. I certainly would find it difficult to fit in 1 hour of prayer!

Most of my life, I have been told to be like Jesus and to read the Gospels to see how Jesus acted. If this is true, which it is**, then Jesus' moment in the garden of Gethsemane should resonate with us and teach us to do what he does to be in the presence of God. 

The world promises us the reward we get from speeding through it is efficiency. If Diggs slowed down and showed patience, he would be rewarded a treat or dinner at 6:25 instead of 6:27. The point is, Jesus knew slowing down his day to meet with God was a gamechanger, because he knew the reward that came with being with God was peace in the midst of chaos. "Abba Father, [Jesus] said. "Everything is possible  for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will" (Mark 14:36). Jesus knew meeting with God was a priority. 

Jesus could have filled that hour with more teaching, healing, hanging out with mom and his other loved ones, and preparing for his death by traveling around and sightseeing. I'm sure no one would have blamed him. Instead he brought himself and his heart before God in the stillness of the garden. 

Do we have this time allotted in each part of our day, or do we fill it with more of our agenda? Do we buy into the lie the world tells us that efficiency is always most effective and to fill your life with activities that are done quickly so you can have spare time to do more? 

In Paul's letter to the church in Philippi, he talks about the reward for knowing Christ, and to him, it far outweighs anything on his agenda. "But whatever gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ" (Philippians 3:7-8). In other words, Paul has concluded that he has falling so deeply in love with knowing God that he is willing to purge his agenda, his past idols, and anything that stands between him and God just to walk with him.

This is what Bob Goff and N.T. Wright are talking about. To effectively know Christ Jesus your Lord," efficiency is not effective. "Slowing down to catch up with God" is the most effective and rewarding thing you will ever do with your life. Paul didn't say he wants to fit God into his busy schedule; he considered everything in this world garbage compared to knowing Christ. Garbage!  Therefore, make walking with God a part of everything you do, and that includes building Gethsemane into your day. 

Through seeking your Gethsemane with God, you slow down, and through slowing down, you find yourself knowing your Creator in ways you never thought could be possible. 

As a child, my dad referenced Psalm 46:10-11 a lot, and it is the perfect fit to close out:

"'...Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth.'

The Lord Almighty is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress."

Are you with him?

*Taken from Rich Villodas' book The Deeply Formed Life: Five Transformative Values to Root Us in the Way of Jesus, pg. 7, chapter 1.

**In John 14:12-14, Jesus told Phillip that those who believe in him will do what he has been doing; in Luke 6:46-49, Jesus compares us to a wise builder if we hear his words and do what he says but he also compares us to a foolish builder if we don't listen to his words and do what he says; in James 1:22-25 we are told if we don't listen to the Word and do what it says, it's as if we look in the mirror and forget our appearance when we leave.