I could've been somebody. . .

I read Sandra Cisneros' novel House on Mango Street for my grad class last week. The book is a collection of connected short stories about a young Hispanic-American girl growing up in her neighborhood. Several quotes stood out to me about the book.

1. “I could’ve been somebody, you know? my mother says and sighs.”

I think this is the great fear for everyone in life – to wake up and realize what one could have been and see unrealized potential. I know I fear this on almost a daily basis. However, this mother doesn’t see that she is somebody. She is a wildly successful mother (it seems). She is likely someone who loves her family passionately. She has so much more than many people in life and has accomplished a great deal through her children. This was an important reminder to me, that perhaps what I accomplish with my family is so much more important than fulfilling professional potential.

2. “They always told us that one day we would move into a house, a real house that would be ours for always so we wouldn’t have to move each year. And our house would have running water and pipes that worked. And inside it would have real stairs, not hallway stairs, but stairs inside like the houses on T.V. . . . This was the house Papa talked about when he held a lottery ticket and this was the house Mama dreamed up in the stories she told us before we went to bed.”

“I knew then I had to have a house. A real house. One I could point to. But this isn’t it. The house on Mango Street isn’t it. For the time being, Mama says. Temporary, says Papa. But I know how those things go.”

To me, this is a great picture of real life. On one side, you have the dream. This is what you hope for, this is what you’ve been told is within your reach as part of the American Dream. On the other side is reality. There is a disappointment when reality doesn’t match the dream. But the author knows “how those things go.” It’s life.

Also, this "Promised Land" approach to life is one of the most dangerous approaches to happiness that attacks the daily lives of so many individuals. It’s the “I’ll be happy when. . .” mindset, or the “If I can just get through this. . .” approach. The bottom line that people need to figure out (and that I need to remind myself of often) is that happiness is more of a choice and less of a product of circumstances. I won’t be happier when my graduate degree is complete. Things won’t calm down once I get through this grading period. If I’m not able to be content in all circumstances, I probably won’t be able to be content in any.

Also, these “promised land” dreams are what leads to a great deal of disappointment in life. It’s so easy to build up in our heads a perfect picture of what something will be like – first job, marriage, kids. And it’s rarely if ever how you picture it. Even the realities of the politics involved in being an educator are something that weren’t part of the grand picture I had in my head when dreaming of being a teacher. When expectations don’t meet reality, it’s easy to get down. (I know this sounds like a contradiction to my comments about dreaming big in an earlier post. Perhaps it is. But I'm okay with that)

A few other quotes that caught my eye, but that I'll let speak for themselves:

- “People who live on hills sleep so close to the stars they forget those of us who live too much on earth. They don’t look down at all except to be content to live on hills.”

- “All brown all around, we are safe. But watch us drive into a neighborhood of another color and our knees go shakity-shake and our car windows get rolled up tight and our eyes look straight. Yeah. That is how it goes and goes.”

- “Until then I am a red balloon, a balloon tied to an anchor.”

Preaching to myself, the deer

I'm working my way through a series of sermons by John Piper about the book of Psalms. The great thing about the Psalms is that they are poetry - raw, immediate, emotional responses to a range of life situations. Sometimes I find solace reading the words of someone living thousands of years ago who felt exactly like I do. More often, however, I read what I wish I were feeling.

The sermon I recently listened to was about Psalm 42, about a man in spiritual depression (to download sermon, go to http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/Sermons/BySeries/84/2806_Spiritual_Depression_in_the_Psalms/). What struck me were two of the six responses by this writer.

One of them is that the writer preaches to his own soul. Piper called it crucial that we learn to preach the truth to ourselves. Piper quotes Martin Lloyd-Jones:

"Have you realized that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself? Take those thoughts that come to you the moment you wake up in the morning. You have not originated them but they are talking to you, they bring back the problems of yesterday, etc. Somebody is talking. Who is talking to you? Your self is talking to you. . ."

I find it exceptionally common to be in a situation in which I know the truth but I don't feel the truth. I don't forget the realities of God; I would just prefer to listen to myself stay focused on how I feel I'm being cheated or wronged. In those times I must preach to myself.

The other thing that stood out regarded a well-known verse from this Psalm: "As a deer pants for flowing streams, so pants my soul for you, O God" (verse 1). What stands out here is that despite the depression and turmoil being dealt with, the writer doesn't say that he thirsts for relief from his circumstances. He doesn't thirst for escape from his enemies. He certainly wants these things. But more important to him is God Himself. He wants God. And if enduring these storms brings him closer, then he will endure these storms.

Seek God, and preach to myself. I'll add that to not being strongly moved on my to-do list for the week. I've got a lot of work to do.

Notes from today

Some notes from today:

1. One writing assignment I gave to my Modern American Lit. students was to write down what they believed about God and how they came to that belief. I told them to include both what they are sure of and what they think they know. But I asked them to tell me their personal beliefs, not those of their family. It's a pre-reading prompt for the text The Color Purple.

I think this is a worthy question for all of us. If you can't answer the question and feel good about the answer, you probably don't know what you believe. And if you don't know what you believe, you have no world-view directing your decisions and actions. Very dangerous.

I love teaching this book because the author's message is one I deplore. I disagree whole-heartedly with the ideas the author suggests about God in the book. It's a challenge, therefore, to love the literature but hate the message. And the reward is that I get to hear teenager reaction to the book. I get to see them being forced to stretch their initial image (or lack thereof) of God and justify or change that belief. I think many people are scared to death to read texts about ideas they disagree with. In reality, I know of no better way to solidify one's beliefs than by allowing them to be challenged by someone who stands in very different shoes.

2. I read what I consider to be one of the greatest lines in all of the Psalms tonight. David writes in Psalm 62:

"He is my defense;
I shall not be greatly moved."

I want this to be true of myself more than just about anything right now. I would love to build a reputation of someone who shall not be greatly moved. I shouldn't be greatly moved (worked up, upset, complaining, agitated, etc.) by many of the trivialities in life. When things are tough, if I truly believe what I say I believe, I should stand strong, unfliching. I shouldn't feel my blood pressure boil when silly people say silly things, or when situations I can't control prevent me from my own illusion of being in complete control. And I shouldn't let the number of things on my "To-do list" move me away from patience, from prayer, and from focus on my priorities.

I know of no greater challenge to myself right now than to not be greatly moved. I seek to stand strong; because when I don't, I reveal how little I truly believe God is.

Ideas this week

A few assorted ideas I’ve come across in the past few days:

1. Never pray for something unless you’re willing to be part of the answer.
- Grant Osborne

Our associate pastor included this as part of his sermon last Sunday. It’s a challenging concept. His context: Christ viewed the people of the world as A)sheep without a shepherd who were both harassed and helpless, and B) the harvest (souls to save). His followers have the command to see people in the same way, and to be as desperate as a harvester is to get in the crop before it spoils. I can pray all I want for this “harvest”; but if I’m not actively doing anything about it, it’s an empty request.

2. What you want has a massive impact on what you’ll allow yourself to believe.

This one came from a recent John Piper sermon I listened to tonight while working out. I fear the number of truths I hold on to because I simply want them to be true, or because it would be inconvenient if they weren’t. And I don’t know how one would be able to see these faulty trughts without the help of a friend. Readers – if you see me believing anything foolish out of convenience or out of an empty desire, I beg you to call me on it.

3. Having dinner with characters.

At the English teachers conference I was at last weekend, one of the questions that teachers pondered was which literary character would they most like to have dinner with. They provided a list of common characters, and from the list I picked Atticus Finch. I think the question goes deeper than who is your favorite character, and I’m at a loss to answer the question as I’ve pondered it from an unlimited bank of possibilities. I also have thought about which person from the Bible (other than Christ, obviously) I’d most like to have dinner with, So many to choose from, but so many flaws as well. I don’t have an answer for either, but I’m really curious what my readers have to say on this. If you’ve got any thoughts on this matter, post a comment.

Stories = Life

"The language of stories is the language of life."

This idea is one I intend to explore further later; but for now, the short version. The conference I attended last weekend was the Iowa Council of Teachers of English Fall Conference. It was great to be with a room full of people who also love literature. The above idea was a statement at some point during the conference (and a statement I've read from many authors as well), and one of the speakers took it another step further. She contends that many individuals believe their story is already written. They buy into a certain story, and they expect their life to follow that story. When the real story doesn't go according to the imagined story's expectations, people experience disappointment.

When I think about this, it certainly is in the realm of truth. I hate when I get disappointed by a bad ending in a book or film. If I'm expecting something completely different, I'm not happy. The same is true of life. Many of us are expecting certain endings to the various stories we are involved in. We believe that "happily ever after" and all the romanticized morals from fables apply specifically to us, that the story is already written and we exist only to experience the ending. It's easy to lose our way and get disillusioned when we realize we have no editorial control. It's a real kick in the teeth, actually.

I see this in relation to Christianity in two ways. My first thought is my theory that Christians (or those who profess to be Christians) get lost or doubt their faith when they listen to the wrong story. They believe that being a Christian guarantees them an easy or comfortable life. The frustrating thing to me is that they believe it because that story is so pervasive in Christian environments. The message seems to be that, "If you'll accept Jesus into your heart right here and now by listening to the words that I'm praying right now, everything will be great." I've heard this message over and over. I've heard many testimonies talking about how terrible life was, then the individual remembered who God was, and then all was immediately well. I'm happy for that person, but I think it's a dangerous message.

The story Christ tells is an entirely different one. The world will hate you, He says. The meek will inherit the earth. Your job is to serve. You will be persecuted, and perhaps even killed. I can require your life or anyone else's at any minute of any day. There must be a death of your worldy desires. Give and love sacrificially.

My only point here is that when the wrong message is believed, it will ultimately lead to individuals feeling let down. It will lead to doubt. When the story doesn't end the way they thought it would, they will seek another story.

The other relation to Christianity comes from a Zig Ziglar speech I was listening to in my truck on the way to the conference. He talked about an especially tense Dallas Cowboys football game in which everyone who watched was on the edge of their seat, teetering on the edges of all sorts of emotions during a particularly close and important game. He said he was calm the entire time he was watching. Then he explained why - he watched the game on tape after he already knew the outcome. His point: Biblically-speaking, we know the outcome. It isn't a life of comfort, but it is an eternity of joy. It is fulfillment and purpose and a conquering of death. It is a victory in the only contests that matter. To know the outcome is a much easier way to live.